you and I
are friends, just friends. Nothing happened."
"And it never will. Now get out."
Anger dances across his face with amusement, "No. You're
being ridiculous. You're jealous and being crazy. I'm not leaving. I thought
Sarah wanted help with her math. If that’s not the case, then I'm not
interested in being anything else."
I roll my eyes and turn away from him, "Whatever."
I hear him playing with his phone. "Hi. Can I get a pizza
delivered? What's the address here, Lynnie? Erralynn? Address?"
I give him the finger behind my back.
"Mature." He frowns and talks to the person on the
phone again, "Yes, Lynnie Lake's house. Yes. That’s the one. What kind of
pizza do you have? Pepperoni, loaded, or Hawaiian? That’s it?" He sighs, "Okay Pepperoni, I guess. Certainly. Thanks."
I laugh.
"Wow, none of the pizza places have anything but that? I
had a chicken pizza once in Bangor—that was delicious." His eyes
drift, “A friend and I went there, it was interesting.
I love pizza. I get it as often as I can.”
“You are so weird.” I’m not as angry as I would like to be.
"Do you have a phone?" he asks.
I shake my head, "Mary won't pay for one and I save
everything to pay for New York."
"You don’t message?" he sounds dumbfounded.
I shake my head.
"Wow. How do you communicate with your friends? Seems
everyone is addicted to these things. I never see anyone who doesn’t have one
in their hands at all times. They do make life
easier."
I laugh, “You sound so weird sometimes.”
“I was raised very formally.”
“Cool.” I shake my head, "Anyway, I don’t need a phone.
The whole town is three miles squared, and I have a house phone. Pretty sure I
can walk that far if I have to."
He grimaces, "But how do you survive without instant
access to it all? All the kids these days have a phone. It’s all the rage on
TV. Brandon lent me this one. It’s his old one. He insisted."
The way he talks is crazy, like he is an old man. I don’t care
about phones. Not right now. Sam is hurt because of me. I know it is me, me and the curse.
I feel Bastion's body weight on the bed as he sits next to me.
"Are you truly angry with me, over helping your friend with math?"
I blush, "I just figured, you were being nice to me for .
. . you know."
He shakes his head, "I don’t."
"For, like, sex." I feel worse.
He laughs and rubs his hands through his thick hair,
"Wow, you really have a wicked opinion of me."
I blush, "No. But you were all over her and laughing and
stuff. She was into you, for sure."
He shakes his head, "No, I wasn't. I was being nice. I
thought she was your friend."
"She is." I nod, "She likes you. I don’t want
to talk about it. How did you know where to find me, anyway?"
He looks tired and annoyed, "Well, I heard about the jock
and the allergies from your dear friend Sarah. She got a text in class. She
told me all about how everyone would think it was somehow your fault and I ran
looking for you. I saw the people lined up outside the bathroom and I knew you
were there. I panicked. I thought for sure they were being mean to you. I heard
you crying and I acted like a psychotic. I kicked the door in, grabbed you, and
ran from the school. I think your friends probably think I'm insane."
I laugh, "They do, but not for the reason you think. They think you're nuts
for touching me and being near me. Look at Sam."
My voice drops off.
He leans into me a little, "That’s not your fault. I
swear he had an allergic reaction. I will actually prove it to you."
I sigh and listen to my stomach gurgle.
“Watch.” He leans forward and presses his lips against my
forehead. The heat from his breath startles me. I try to pull back but his arms
have encircled me. He kisses my cheekbone and then down beside my lips. His
phone rings again. He sighs and pulls it out, freeing me to move back and get
some space between us. My heart is pounding. He looks at it and sighs,
"Yes."
I can hear a girl's voice.
He rolls
are friends, just friends. Nothing happened."
"And it never will. Now get out."
Anger dances across his face with amusement, "No. You're
being ridiculous. You're jealous and being crazy. I'm not leaving. I thought
Sarah wanted help with her math. If that’s not the case, then I'm not
interested in being anything else."
I roll my eyes and turn away from him, "Whatever."
I hear him playing with his phone. "Hi. Can I get a pizza
delivered? What's the address here, Lynnie? Erralynn? Address?"
I give him the finger behind my back.
"Mature." He frowns and talks to the person on the
phone again, "Yes, Lynnie Lake's house. Yes. That’s the one. What kind of
pizza do you have? Pepperoni, loaded, or Hawaiian? That’s it?" He sighs, "Okay Pepperoni, I guess. Certainly. Thanks."
I laugh.
"Wow, none of the pizza places have anything but that? I
had a chicken pizza once in Bangor—that was delicious." His eyes
drift, “A friend and I went there, it was interesting.
I love pizza. I get it as often as I can.”
“You are so weird.” I’m not as angry as I would like to be.
"Do you have a phone?" he asks.
I shake my head, "Mary won't pay for one and I save
everything to pay for New York."
"You don’t message?" he sounds dumbfounded.
I shake my head.
"Wow. How do you communicate with your friends? Seems
everyone is addicted to these things. I never see anyone who doesn’t have one
in their hands at all times. They do make life
easier."
I laugh, “You sound so weird sometimes.”
“I was raised very formally.”
“Cool.” I shake my head, "Anyway, I don’t need a phone.
The whole town is three miles squared, and I have a house phone. Pretty sure I
can walk that far if I have to."
He grimaces, "But how do you survive without instant
access to it all? All the kids these days have a phone. It’s all the rage on
TV. Brandon lent me this one. It’s his old one. He insisted."
The way he talks is crazy, like he is an old man. I don’t care
about phones. Not right now. Sam is hurt because of me. I know it is me, me and the curse.
I feel Bastion's body weight on the bed as he sits next to me.
"Are you truly angry with me, over helping your friend with math?"
I blush, "I just figured, you were being nice to me for .
. . you know."
He shakes his head, "I don’t."
"For, like, sex." I feel worse.
He laughs and rubs his hands through his thick hair,
"Wow, you really have a wicked opinion of me."
I blush, "No. But you were all over her and laughing and
stuff. She was into you, for sure."
He shakes his head, "No, I wasn't. I was being nice. I
thought she was your friend."
"She is." I nod, "She likes you. I don’t want
to talk about it. How did you know where to find me, anyway?"
He looks tired and annoyed, "Well, I heard about the jock
and the allergies from your dear friend Sarah. She got a text in class. She
told me all about how everyone would think it was somehow your fault and I ran
looking for you. I saw the people lined up outside the bathroom and I knew you
were there. I panicked. I thought for sure they were being mean to you. I heard
you crying and I acted like a psychotic. I kicked the door in, grabbed you, and
ran from the school. I think your friends probably think I'm insane."
I laugh, "They do, but not for the reason you think. They think you're nuts
for touching me and being near me. Look at Sam."
My voice drops off.
He leans into me a little, "That’s not your fault. I
swear he had an allergic reaction. I will actually prove it to you."
I sigh and listen to my stomach gurgle.
“Watch.” He leans forward and presses his lips against my
forehead. The heat from his breath startles me. I try to pull back but his arms
have encircled me. He kisses my cheekbone and then down beside my lips. His
phone rings again. He sighs and pulls it out, freeing me to move back and get
some space between us. My heart is pounding. He looks at it and sighs,
"Yes."
I can hear a girl's voice.
He rolls
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