someone in the hall threw a slur in her direction, but I guess if you fire a bullet at someone enough times, eventually they learn not to flinch.
And it made sense now, too, why she thought our loft was safe. Even without the bulletproof windows and high-tech entrance pad, it was still the safest place she had.
“No, it’s fine,” she said when I tried to reach for her, and she slipped a finger under her sunglasses to wipe at her eyes. “It’s cool. I think … I think I’m just going to ditch the rest of the class, if that’s okay with you.”
“I can ditch with you,” I offered. “I mean it. We can do something. Do you want to get a manicure?”
She smiled a little. “You’re a good friend. But I think I want to be alone for a while. Gotta get used to it again.”
And before I could stop her, Roux turned and walked away in the opposite direction of our SAT prep class, not even turning around when I called her name.
Chapter 8
“And then she just walked off. She just left me alone sitting on a bench like one of those people who feed pigeons and I feel awful.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you even listening?” I stopped walking and turned to Jesse in the middle of the street.
“Of course I am!” He held up his hands in mock-surrender. “Roux left you in the park and you turned into a pigeon. See, crystal clear.”
I tried not to smile but my mouth gave me away. “You’re horrible.”
“I think you mean
hilarious
.” Jesse looped his arm over my shoulders as we started to walk again. We were going to Joe’s in the West Village for iced coffee and some much-needed catch-up time. I had spent the two days since Roux’s outburst researching everything I could about the 1933 double-eagle gold coin, Saint-Gaudens, and Dominic Arment. I also kept working on the lock that Angelo had given me, but I was no closer to cracking it. Jesse had spent those same two days insoccer practice and, after his dad found out that he hadn’t done any of his summer reading yet, poring over
The Poisonwood Bible
and
Slaughterhouse-Five
.
Both things were excellent cover-ups for the fact that we weren’t really talking. I mean, we were talking. We just weren’t …
talking
.
“So Roux was upset and left you alone in Washington Square Park.”
“Yes,” I said. “And she didn’t answer any of my texts like she normally does.”
“What do you mean?”
“She usually sends lots of emoticons and emojis and exclamation marks. If she could text
actual
fireworks, she probably would.”
“Well, I’m really glad now that Roux never texts me. Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jesse said, grabbing my arm and reeling me back as I started to stalk away. “Sarcasm off, okay? I’m listening.”
“No, you’re placating me.” I stood on the sidewalk as he held my wrist. “There’s a difference.”
“Yes, in the spelling. I’m sorry things are weird now between you and Roux.”
I was not feeling particularly charitable, though. I had spent two days doing ridiculous amounts of research, but without the Collective’s resources, it felt like walking on a tightrope without a net. My eyes hurt from the computer screen, my neck was all wonky from leaning forward to stare at the screen, and now I wasn’t even sure how to talk to my best friend.
“No, you’re not sorry,” I told Jesse.
“Now you’re pouting.”
“Am not.”
He smiled, the corners of his mouth quirking a little. “It’s pretty cute. Wanna stamp your foot, too?”
“Yes. Into your crotch.”
He drummed his fingertips against the inside of my wrist, making me shiver a little. “You’re cheating,” I said. “You can’t do that. I’m mad at you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Am I? Is this cheating, too?” He started to pull me to him and gently pressed his mouth against my shoulder, working his way up my neck.
“
Such
a cheater,” I murmured. “Okay, stop, stop,” I added when he started to kiss the spot just under my ear, the spot that
And it made sense now, too, why she thought our loft was safe. Even without the bulletproof windows and high-tech entrance pad, it was still the safest place she had.
“No, it’s fine,” she said when I tried to reach for her, and she slipped a finger under her sunglasses to wipe at her eyes. “It’s cool. I think … I think I’m just going to ditch the rest of the class, if that’s okay with you.”
“I can ditch with you,” I offered. “I mean it. We can do something. Do you want to get a manicure?”
She smiled a little. “You’re a good friend. But I think I want to be alone for a while. Gotta get used to it again.”
And before I could stop her, Roux turned and walked away in the opposite direction of our SAT prep class, not even turning around when I called her name.
Chapter 8
“And then she just walked off. She just left me alone sitting on a bench like one of those people who feed pigeons and I feel awful.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you even listening?” I stopped walking and turned to Jesse in the middle of the street.
“Of course I am!” He held up his hands in mock-surrender. “Roux left you in the park and you turned into a pigeon. See, crystal clear.”
I tried not to smile but my mouth gave me away. “You’re horrible.”
“I think you mean
hilarious
.” Jesse looped his arm over my shoulders as we started to walk again. We were going to Joe’s in the West Village for iced coffee and some much-needed catch-up time. I had spent the two days since Roux’s outburst researching everything I could about the 1933 double-eagle gold coin, Saint-Gaudens, and Dominic Arment. I also kept working on the lock that Angelo had given me, but I was no closer to cracking it. Jesse had spent those same two days insoccer practice and, after his dad found out that he hadn’t done any of his summer reading yet, poring over
The Poisonwood Bible
and
Slaughterhouse-Five
.
Both things were excellent cover-ups for the fact that we weren’t really talking. I mean, we were talking. We just weren’t …
talking
.
“So Roux was upset and left you alone in Washington Square Park.”
“Yes,” I said. “And she didn’t answer any of my texts like she normally does.”
“What do you mean?”
“She usually sends lots of emoticons and emojis and exclamation marks. If she could text
actual
fireworks, she probably would.”
“Well, I’m really glad now that Roux never texts me. Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jesse said, grabbing my arm and reeling me back as I started to stalk away. “Sarcasm off, okay? I’m listening.”
“No, you’re placating me.” I stood on the sidewalk as he held my wrist. “There’s a difference.”
“Yes, in the spelling. I’m sorry things are weird now between you and Roux.”
I was not feeling particularly charitable, though. I had spent two days doing ridiculous amounts of research, but without the Collective’s resources, it felt like walking on a tightrope without a net. My eyes hurt from the computer screen, my neck was all wonky from leaning forward to stare at the screen, and now I wasn’t even sure how to talk to my best friend.
“No, you’re not sorry,” I told Jesse.
“Now you’re pouting.”
“Am not.”
He smiled, the corners of his mouth quirking a little. “It’s pretty cute. Wanna stamp your foot, too?”
“Yes. Into your crotch.”
He drummed his fingertips against the inside of my wrist, making me shiver a little. “You’re cheating,” I said. “You can’t do that. I’m mad at you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Am I? Is this cheating, too?” He started to pull me to him and gently pressed his mouth against my shoulder, working his way up my neck.
“
Such
a cheater,” I murmured. “Okay, stop, stop,” I added when he started to kiss the spot just under my ear, the spot that
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