After several attempts, I finally slid from his grip and sat on the edge of the bed, looking back at his half- naked body draped in covers. I watched him for a moment and sighed. The lines were becoming blurred, and it was my fault.
His hand slid across the sheets and he touched my fingers. “What’s wrong, Pigeon?” he said, his eyes barely open.
“I’m going to get a glass of water, you want anything?” Travis shook his head and closed his eyes, his cheek flat against the mattress.
“Morning, Abby,” Shepley said from the recliner when I rounded the corner.
“Where’s Mare?”
“Still sleeping. What are you doing up so early?” he asked, looking at the clock.
“The alarm went off, but I always wake up early after I drink. It’s a curse.”
“Me, too,” he nodded.
“You better get Mare up. We have class in an hour,” I said, turning on the tap, and leaning over to take a sip.
Shepley nodded. “I was just going to let her sleep.”
I shook my head. “Don’t do that. She’ll be mad if she misses.”
“Oh,” he said, standing up. “Better wake her, then.” He wheeled around. “Hey, Abby?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Travis, but I know that he’s going to do something stupid to piss you off. It’s a tic he has. He doesn’t get close with anyone very often, and for whatever reason he’s let you in. But you have to overlook his demons. It’s the only way he’ll know.”
“Know what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at his melodramatic speech.
“If you’ll climb over the wall,” he answered simply.
I shook my head and chuckled. “Whatever you say, Shep.”
Shepley shrugged, and then disappeared into his bedroom. I heard soft murmurs, a protesting groan, and then America’s sweet giggling.
I swirled the oatmeal around in my bowl, and squeezed the chocolate syrup in as I stirred.
“That’s sick, Pidge,” Travis said, wearing only a pair of green plaid boxers. He rubbed his eyes and pulled a box of cereal from the cabinet.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, snapping the cap on the bottle.
“I hear your birthday is coming up. Last stand of your teenage years,” he grinned, his eyes puffy and red.
“Yeah…I’m not a big birthday person. I think Mare is going to take me to dinner or something.” I smiled, “You can come if you want.”
“All right,” he shrugged. “It’s a week from Sunday?”
“Yes. When’s your birthday?”
He poured the milk, dunking the flakes with his spoon, “Not ‘til April. April first.”
“Shut up.”
“No, I’m serious.” he said, chewing.
“Your birthday is on
He laughed. “Yes! You’re gonna be late. I better get dressed.”
“I’m riding with Mare.”
I could tell he was being intentionally cool when he shrugged. “Whatever,” he said, turning his back to me to finish his cereal.
CHAPTER FOUR
the bet
“He’s definitely staring at you,” America whispered, leaning back to peek across the room.
“Stop looking, dummy, he’s going to see you.”
America smiled and waved. “He’s already seen me. He’s still staring.”
I hesitated for a moment, and then finally worked up enough courage to look in his direction. Parker was looking right at me, grinning.
I returned his smile, and then pretended to type something on my laptop.
“Is he still staring?” I murmured.
“Yep,” she giggled.
After class, Parker stopped me in the hall.
“Don’t forget about the party this weekend.”
“I won’t,” I said, trying not to bat my eyes or do anything else ridiculous.
America and I made our way across the lawn to the cafeteria to meet Travis and Shepley for lunch. She was still laughing about Parker’s behavior when Shepley and Travis approached.
“Hey, Baby,” America said, kissing her boyfriend square on the mouth.
“What’s so funny?” Shepley asked.
“Oh, a guy in class was staring at Abby all hour. It was adorable.”
“As long as he was staring at Abby,” Shepley winked.
“Who was it?” Travis grimaced.
I readjusted my backpack, prompting Travis to slide it off my arms and hold it. I shook my head. “Mare’s imagining things.”
“Abby! You big, fat liar! It was Parker Hayes, and he was being
Travis’ expression twisted into disgust. “Parker
Shepley pulled on America’s hand. “We’re headed to lunch. Will you be enjoying the fine cafeteria cuisine this afternoon?”
America kissed him again in answer, and Travis and I followed behind. I sat my tray between America and Finch, but Travis didn’t sit in his normal seat across from me. Instead, he sat a few seats down. It was then that I realized he hadn’t said much during our walk to the cafeteria.
“Are you okay, Trav?” I asked.
“Me? Fine, why?” he said, smoothing the features of his face.
“You’ve just been quiet.”
Several members of the football team approached the table and sat down, laughing loudly. Travis looked a bit annoyed as he rolled his food around on his plate.
Chris Jenks tossed a french fry onto Travis’ plate. “What’s up, Trav? I heard you bagged Tina Martin. She’s been raking your name through the mud today.”
“Shut up, Jenks,” Travis said, keeping his eyes on his food.
I leaned forward so the brawny giant sitting in front of Travis could experience the full force of my glare. “Knock it off, Chris.”
Travis’ eyes bored into mine. “I can take care of myself, Abby.”
“I’m sorry, I….”
“I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t want you to be anything,” he snapped, shoving away from the table and storming out the door.
Finch looked over at me with raised eyebrows. “Whoa. What was that about?”
I stabbed a tater tot with my fork and puffed. “I don’t know.”
Shepley patted my back. “It’s nothing you did, Abby.”
“He just has stuff going on,” America added.
“What kind of stuff?” I asked.
Shepley shrugged and turned his attention to his plate. “You should know by now that it takes patience and a
