you like a map?” she asked the girl in front of me.
It was the first time we’d been within speaking distance since that day in my room. I knew all about the high road and how I should have taken it instead of slapping her. I’d rehashed the situation a hundred times afterward. Deep down, I never felt entirely apologetic. I was mostly confused, hurt, and pissed off that my supposed friend would doubt me about something so serious. But sometimes remorse snuck in, like a sour candy mixed with a batch of sweet ones.
“Would you like a . . . oh, it’s you,” she said, noticing me.
“I’m the next shift.”
She handed me the remainder of her stack. “Good. I’ve got better places to be.”
“Kayla—”
She sauntered away.
I took a step after her, then stopped. Forget it. We hadn’t spoken in months. Now wasn’t the time to reconcile.
I needed to focus on getting through a few minutes of this sucky event. Once I was safely at home, I could analyze the Kayla situation while alphabetizing the disease-related books in Dad’s office. News stations were available 24/7 for my worrying pleasure. Or I could watch a movie, something stupid and light, wallowing in my solitude.
A tall guy standing next to me sneezed. I stood on the threshold to the gym, observing the throng, hearing the coughs, thinking about germs.
I couldn’t do it.
Who was I kidding? If there was some type of flu going around, I couldn’t immerse myself in a crowd of potentially contagious people, not even for fifteen minutes. My legs trembled as I scurried from the school with my head down. Sitting outside on the front bench, I took a few deep breaths, feeling better. Leaving was the safest course of action. I had abandoned the maps and was rushing across the parking lot to the smoking corner when Ethan intercepted me.
“Hey, Lil.”
He fell into step next to me.
“Hi.” I had an unlit cigarette ready in my hand and I couldn’t help twirling it nervously.
“I guess you don’t need the extra credit?”
“Um, I was keeping Megs company for awhile. I don’t really feel like staying.”
“It’s still hard for me to believe you smoke now.”
“Things change, right?”
“Maybe,” he said. “But not everything has to be different.”
We reached the oak tree and I lit up, exhaling loudly in protest.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve wanted to talk to you. I think that I . . .” He pushed his bangs across his forehead. “I still miss the way things used to be. With us. Remember the park? That was one of the best times ever.”
Of course I remembered that day. We’d had an old-fashioned picnic by the pond, then took turns feeding each other a hot fudge sundae we’d gotten from the ice cream truck. We’d kissed for the rest of the afternoon, lying on the grass in the sun.
“I could spend forever like this,” he’d said, holding me close.
If I shut my eyes, I could almost feel his arms around me, his lips pressing on mine.
No. That was before. Now he stood across from me, watching me smoke, catching me off guard with this conversation. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be together again. Familiar in a good way? Or awkward now that my secret had created an invisible wall between us?
“Look, I’m not saying we have to start going out again. But what if you came over? We could hang out, watch a movie. Maybe that mash-up of all the fairy tales. That’s it. No commitment.” He took a step closer, narrowing the space between us.
Please don’t kiss me. I froze while he brushed a strand of hair gently away from my face, the way he’d done a million times before.
With that motion, the familiar gesture, my resolve weakened. “All right,” I whispered.
“Tonight then? Seven-ish?” he asked.
“Oh.” That was sooner than I expected. “Um, OK.”
“See you then.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into, but I didn’t see us living happily ever after.
I washed
It was the first time we’d been within speaking distance since that day in my room. I knew all about the high road and how I should have taken it instead of slapping her. I’d rehashed the situation a hundred times afterward. Deep down, I never felt entirely apologetic. I was mostly confused, hurt, and pissed off that my supposed friend would doubt me about something so serious. But sometimes remorse snuck in, like a sour candy mixed with a batch of sweet ones.
“Would you like a . . . oh, it’s you,” she said, noticing me.
“I’m the next shift.”
She handed me the remainder of her stack. “Good. I’ve got better places to be.”
“Kayla—”
She sauntered away.
I took a step after her, then stopped. Forget it. We hadn’t spoken in months. Now wasn’t the time to reconcile.
I needed to focus on getting through a few minutes of this sucky event. Once I was safely at home, I could analyze the Kayla situation while alphabetizing the disease-related books in Dad’s office. News stations were available 24/7 for my worrying pleasure. Or I could watch a movie, something stupid and light, wallowing in my solitude.
A tall guy standing next to me sneezed. I stood on the threshold to the gym, observing the throng, hearing the coughs, thinking about germs.
I couldn’t do it.
Who was I kidding? If there was some type of flu going around, I couldn’t immerse myself in a crowd of potentially contagious people, not even for fifteen minutes. My legs trembled as I scurried from the school with my head down. Sitting outside on the front bench, I took a few deep breaths, feeling better. Leaving was the safest course of action. I had abandoned the maps and was rushing across the parking lot to the smoking corner when Ethan intercepted me.
“Hey, Lil.”
He fell into step next to me.
“Hi.” I had an unlit cigarette ready in my hand and I couldn’t help twirling it nervously.
“I guess you don’t need the extra credit?”
“Um, I was keeping Megs company for awhile. I don’t really feel like staying.”
“It’s still hard for me to believe you smoke now.”
“Things change, right?”
“Maybe,” he said. “But not everything has to be different.”
We reached the oak tree and I lit up, exhaling loudly in protest.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve wanted to talk to you. I think that I . . .” He pushed his bangs across his forehead. “I still miss the way things used to be. With us. Remember the park? That was one of the best times ever.”
Of course I remembered that day. We’d had an old-fashioned picnic by the pond, then took turns feeding each other a hot fudge sundae we’d gotten from the ice cream truck. We’d kissed for the rest of the afternoon, lying on the grass in the sun.
“I could spend forever like this,” he’d said, holding me close.
If I shut my eyes, I could almost feel his arms around me, his lips pressing on mine.
No. That was before. Now he stood across from me, watching me smoke, catching me off guard with this conversation. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be together again. Familiar in a good way? Or awkward now that my secret had created an invisible wall between us?
“Look, I’m not saying we have to start going out again. But what if you came over? We could hang out, watch a movie. Maybe that mash-up of all the fairy tales. That’s it. No commitment.” He took a step closer, narrowing the space between us.
Please don’t kiss me. I froze while he brushed a strand of hair gently away from my face, the way he’d done a million times before.
With that motion, the familiar gesture, my resolve weakened. “All right,” I whispered.
“Tonight then? Seven-ish?” he asked.
“Oh.” That was sooner than I expected. “Um, OK.”
“See you then.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into, but I didn’t see us living happily ever after.
I washed
Similar Books
