Stumbling over my own feet, I lose my balance, face planting into the dirt. I lay there for a second, because now everyone is laughing even harder. I don't even want to get up. I can feel my skin turn red, and the tears I'm trying so hard to hold in are starting to fall. Dirt is sticking to my face, getting sucked into my nose as I try to breathe.
“Oh my God, I was right!” Sandy blurts out from above me, her laughter bordering on hysterical. “Wow, you really are such a loser.”
Lifting my head, I see my sketchpad splayed open on the ground, pages of my book spilling across the grass. And right on top, right there for everyone to see, are the doodles of mine and Lyle's names together in hearts, complete with arrows and lips, and all kinds of little loving designs.
No, no, no. This can't be happening.
“You all right?” There's a hand in front of my face, open, with wiggling fingers. “Let me help you up.”
My eyes move up the arm, and I see the one person I really didn't expect, and really didn’t want to see. Lyle Vox. His eyes are soft, his smile sultry and smooth. The knot in my gut twists hard and fast, making me feel like I'm going to throw up.
Nodding awkwardly, I take his hand. He pulls me to my feet easily, his eyes moving up and down my body. “You got some good scrapes.” Jerking his head, his eyes keep moving down my legs, and to the pile of papers at his feet.
Kill me, just kill me now.
Lyle bends over, scooping up my sketchpad and grabbing loose papers. I know he sees the one with our names, the stupid one I let myself draw while daydreaming.
Why? Why did I do that?
I'm such an idiot!
Closing my eyes, I bite my tongue. I feel like a damn fool, a stupid girl for letting my feelings get etched into paper in little bubble hearts with our names.
“Wow, I'm impressed. These are pretty good, I'd love to see more some time,” he says, holding out the book with a smile. But it's not a teasing smile or a condescending smile. He appears genuine, like he's actually curious.
Snatching my notebook from his hand, I attempt to grab all the papers, but some fly out and tumble across the grass. I'm not chasing them down, all I want to do is leave.
Hanging my head, I start to walk away. I can't look back at him or I may actually throw up all over the ground. He knows how I feel now, and that in itself is scary as hell.
Holding my stuff close to my chest, I just keep walking.
Kira runs up beside me and grabs me by the shoulders. “You okay?” she asks, her voice concerned. I sniffle and half nod, keeping my eyes on the ground. “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse, and get those cuts cleaned up.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks with me.
I'm sitting on the bench in the nurse's office, holding my head in my hands. “I want to die, Kira. Seriously, this is awful. I'm never going to be able to show my face in school again.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asks, jumping up onto the bench beside me. “Do you even realize what happened?”
“Uh, yeah. I made a complete fool of myself, and I'll never live it down. I'm going to be the laughingstock of the entire school.”
“No, dummy, that's not it at all. Lyle literally ran across the entire football field to come help you off the ground. He didn't have to do that, but he did. So, what does that tell you?”
“It tells me he's not as much of an asshole as his sister.”
“No, it says he cares. He cares enough about you that he ran fifty yards just to see if you were okay. Lyle was at your side before I was. Tell me that's not a little curious.”
My eyes meet hers, and she shrugs. Could she be right? Could he maybe have some feelings for me?
The thought turns my aching heart into a tirade of excitement. If Lyle has even the slightest interest me, just a hint, that's all I need to make my entire fucking senior year worthwhile.
The nurse comes into the room, and Kira jumps down to the floor.
“I'm heading back to class. You good?” she asks.
“Yeah, thanks, Kira.” Smiling, I'm starting to feel a little bit better about what happened.
Lyle did run across a field to come to my side. He did compliment my art and tell me he'd like to see more. That's more than he's ever said to me in my entire life. Before today, the only conversation we ever had was him asking me if the meatball sub was good in the school cafeteria.
That was it. A single question about food.
He never looked at me again after that. But, I saw him, I always saw him.
I saw him as he struggled with geometry. I saw him as he gave a presentation about the color hues in art. I saw him as he climbed the rope with his steel muscles and thick calves.
I saw him everywhere.
Giving me a smile, she walks backward out the door. “That's what best friends are for.”
The nurse cleans the scrapes on both my knees and bandages them. Once I'm all set, I get a hall pass from her, and start toward my locker to grab my books for my next class.
Standing at my locker, I flip through the books, pulling out the ones I need.
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Shutting the door on my locker, I see Sandy coming down the hall. “It's Dirty Dalia, the waste of air.”
Lyle is walking beside her, his eyes meet mine, and I wait to see if he says anything to his sister about how she's acting. He shifts his gaze, moving to the
