“You’re not wearing your tie.”
He glances down at his shirt as though that’s new to him. “I don’t know how to tie one. My last school didn’t have a lame-ass uniform.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes and lift my hand. “Where is it?”
Patting both his pockets, he pulls it from his left one.
“Give it here and hold these.”
He takes my books without argument, standing still as I dress his toddler ass.
“Do you put highlights in your hair?” I ask, needing to fill the silence with conversation while our bodies are a little too close for comfort. His eyes fixate on my face in intrigue.
He shakes his head. “No. Why?”
The lightened locks are styled longer on top of his head fall over his forehead, and I have to refrain from brushing them from his eyes.
“Stuffed under that stupid ball cap you wear, it looks dark,” I tell him, tying a perfect Windsor knot at his neck. “But it’s got blond through it.”
I pat the tie into place, smiling at my handiwork.
“All natural, Squirrel,” he tells me, loosening the tie almost immediately.
Frowning as he hands me back my books, I lift my head in slow motion. “Did you just nickname me after a rodent?”
“A cute rodent.”
I shake my head, forcing my feet forward once again.
“How’s your first day?” I ask, walking to remove the insult from my skin.
A rodent. He may as well have nicknamed me Rat.
“Meh.”
“A few of the girls in my earlier class were talking about you,” I offer to remove the melancholy from his voice.
“Jealous?” He smirks.
I frown.
“Too far?”
I lift my thumb and forefinger, separating them an inch. “Just a lot.”
He laughs easily. “I told my gran I met you. She invited you over for dinner.”
My feet halt their movement once again. “What? Why?”
“Hell if I know,” he says defensively. “She got excited that I’d met my first friend here.”
“I’d hardly call us friends,” I combat.
“Semantics,” he disputes. “Tonight. Seven o’clock. Don’t disappoint my poor sick gran.” He pouts. “I’ll see you then. Gotta run.”
I stand in the hallway as the bell rings, and all the other students move on to their classes. I’m left alone with my shock, trying like hell to understand what just happened.
My feet turn in the direction he jogged away, but I’m greeted with emptiness. Turning back, I lift my leaden feet, dropping them in the direction of my next class.
Sitting in my designated seat, I pray the teacher doesn’t hear the way my cell buzzes in my pocket.
Unknown: Gran wants to know if you have any allergies.
I frown.
Henley: how did you get my #?
Brooks: Told the lady in the office you were my ride home. She knows Gran, she felt sorry for me.
Henley: you just signed her termination slip. Just an FYI. My only allergy is you.
Brooks: Cute. Also, I do need that ride home.
“Something more interesting on your phone than what I’m teaching, Miss Wright?”
My cheeks burn automatically. “Uh. No. Sorry.”
“I thought so. Phone away before I’m forced to confiscate it.”
She would never. I’m too good of a student, but the act is for the rest of the class. An example she needs to set.
Shoving my cell into the bottom of my bag, I ignore my annoying neighbor, irritated by the fact he’s declared us friends.
I slide my tray onto the table, hitting it against Addy’s. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“You look extra miserable today. Cute, but super off. What’s up?”
Addy is my one and only friend in this school. More, this entire town. Having psycho parents tends to keep others away, so people keep their distance. It used to upset me, but I can’t blame them. I don’t even want to be around them, and they’re my own flesh and blood.
Ripping along the skin of my banana, I growl. “Nothing. That weird guy I met at my rock started here today. He thinks we’re friends.”
“You mean the super cute guy walking toward our table with the Hollywood hair and dreamy eyes?”
Chewing my fruit, I turn.
Sure enough, Brooks moves toward us, ignoring the flirty eyes the rest of our cohort are throwing his way.
“Hey.” He sets his tray down beside mine. “I’m Brooks.” He introduces himself to Addy as thought sitting with us is the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m Addison. Addy,” she corrects herself.
I stare at her with wide eyes, attempting to telepathically communicate with her to stop.
“Hey, Squirrel,” Brooks prompts when I don’t speak.
“I will force this banana up your nose if you call me that again.”
“Squirrel?” Addy all but coos. “That’s so sweet.”
“Squirrels are rodents, Addy. It’s not sweet. It’s offensive.”
“You are all tiny like a squirrel.” She ignores me. “And you’re always hiding away in the forest.”
“You never texted me back. Where will your driver pick us up from?”
I close my eyes. “I don’t have a driver.”
“Who picks you up?”
I fight against the sting caused by his simple question. “It’s Monday, so Mom.”
“You didn’t mention your parents were separated?”
“I wish,” I mumble, refusing to engage further.
“Henley’s parents are obsessed with her. They hate one another but basically go into war for her affections. The school had to force scheduled pick-up days to stop them from arguing at the gates. They refuse to get divorced in case one gets awarded more time with her than the other by the courts.”
Girl code, broken.
I glare at my supposed friend.
“What?” she asks innocently. “It’s not a secret, Henny. The entire school saw it happen.”
My esophagus closes over, and I struggle to swallow the banana in my throat. The texture now like glue. Throwing the remainder of the fruit onto my tray, I push it away.
“Sweet, I get to meet your mom.”
I turn to Brooks, but he’s oblivious to my state, his focus set solely on his burger. I watch as he all but dislocates his jaw to take an inhuman bite.
A sense of relief
