who's acting normal. Besides, Jada has the hots for him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Little Miss Virtuous? I thought she was headed for the nunnery.”
I frowned at him. “Why would you think that?”
His hand moved lower, to the small of my back and I shivered. “Stories,” he said. “Lots of guys who've crashed and burned, who haven't even made it off the tarmac with her.”
I knew I should be upset. I should spring to the defense of my former best friend. But I felt something else stab at me. Jealousy.
“ Including you?” I knew the answer, of course. Jada would have told me in a heartbeat if he'd ever expressed interest.
He wrinkled his nose. “Not my type.”
“Oh?” His hand moved lower still and I was suddenly having a hard time remembering to breathe. “What is your type?”
“ You,” he whispered.
THIRTEEN
Aidan rescued me the next day, an unlikely knight in ripped jeans and a black Rancid t-shirt. He intercepted me on my way to the bench.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Jada and Case were already sitting down. Jada was bent over her backpack, rummaging for something, but Case's eyes were on me, watching.
“ Finding a nicer place for you to eat.”
Holding my hand, he led me past groups of students sitting on the grass, weaving through the maze of bodies and backpacks to one of the senior benches.
I held back. “Here?” I whispered. I'd been hoping for a smaller, secluded spot, a place for just me and him.
He pulled me forward and sat me down on the bench. “Why not?”
He made quick introductions. Most had been at Scotty's party and they greeted me with reserved smiles and tentative hellos. I didn't blame them. I was just some random sophomore barging in on their territory. If Aidan noticed, he didn't let on. He sat down next to me and positioned his arm on the back of the bench behind me, so his hand could brush my shoulder every so often. I knew what he was doing. Laying claim. And telling his friends to be cool.
Each passing day was easier. After a week, I could stroll right past my old lunch spot, usually without so much as a glance in that direction. Aidan was always waiting for me with a smile on his face and, pretty soon, his friends were, too.
One week turned into two. And then another. Jada and I didn't talk much anymore. The only time we did speak was in English class. At first, our conversations were friendly. We tried to feign a sense of normalcy, to pretend that our friendship was the same despite the fact that we never spent time together and that our phone calls and texts had become nonexistent. I'd come to class and she would ask about my weekend and I'd ask her how her latest meet had gone. But even that began to change. More often, she would turn the other direction, toward Emma O'Rourke, and chat about practice and time trials. Emma was on the track team, too. I tried not to care. After all, it had been my decision to cut her out, to not share with her. She wasn't the one to blame for our withering friendship.
Logan and Carter acted as though I no longer existed. They stared down at the ground as I passed them at lunch, whispering loudly as soon as I ambled by, still within earshot. Words like “stupid” and “slut,” words intended to hurt me. So much for a kind, Christian attitude, I thought. They were never rude to my face; Logan would even smile at me in Geometry if I glanced in his direction. But our friendship was gone. Finished.
At least Case remained friendly. Even though I didn't sit with him at lunch anymore, he always managed to chat for a couple of minutes in class, before Mrs. Lopez arrived, spewing rapid-fire Spanish at us. I was glad we'd become friends and that he still treated me like one. None of my other friends did.
He was waiting for me by my desk a few weeks after my lunch defection. I noticed his hair was growing out a little; soft brown wisps flirted with his eyebrows and curled over his ears.
“Hey,” I said as I
He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Little Miss Virtuous? I thought she was headed for the nunnery.”
I frowned at him. “Why would you think that?”
His hand moved lower, to the small of my back and I shivered. “Stories,” he said. “Lots of guys who've crashed and burned, who haven't even made it off the tarmac with her.”
I knew I should be upset. I should spring to the defense of my former best friend. But I felt something else stab at me. Jealousy.
“ Including you?” I knew the answer, of course. Jada would have told me in a heartbeat if he'd ever expressed interest.
He wrinkled his nose. “Not my type.”
“Oh?” His hand moved lower still and I was suddenly having a hard time remembering to breathe. “What is your type?”
“ You,” he whispered.
THIRTEEN
Aidan rescued me the next day, an unlikely knight in ripped jeans and a black Rancid t-shirt. He intercepted me on my way to the bench.
“What are you doing?” I asked. Jada and Case were already sitting down. Jada was bent over her backpack, rummaging for something, but Case's eyes were on me, watching.
“ Finding a nicer place for you to eat.”
Holding my hand, he led me past groups of students sitting on the grass, weaving through the maze of bodies and backpacks to one of the senior benches.
I held back. “Here?” I whispered. I'd been hoping for a smaller, secluded spot, a place for just me and him.
He pulled me forward and sat me down on the bench. “Why not?”
He made quick introductions. Most had been at Scotty's party and they greeted me with reserved smiles and tentative hellos. I didn't blame them. I was just some random sophomore barging in on their territory. If Aidan noticed, he didn't let on. He sat down next to me and positioned his arm on the back of the bench behind me, so his hand could brush my shoulder every so often. I knew what he was doing. Laying claim. And telling his friends to be cool.
Each passing day was easier. After a week, I could stroll right past my old lunch spot, usually without so much as a glance in that direction. Aidan was always waiting for me with a smile on his face and, pretty soon, his friends were, too.
One week turned into two. And then another. Jada and I didn't talk much anymore. The only time we did speak was in English class. At first, our conversations were friendly. We tried to feign a sense of normalcy, to pretend that our friendship was the same despite the fact that we never spent time together and that our phone calls and texts had become nonexistent. I'd come to class and she would ask about my weekend and I'd ask her how her latest meet had gone. But even that began to change. More often, she would turn the other direction, toward Emma O'Rourke, and chat about practice and time trials. Emma was on the track team, too. I tried not to care. After all, it had been my decision to cut her out, to not share with her. She wasn't the one to blame for our withering friendship.
Logan and Carter acted as though I no longer existed. They stared down at the ground as I passed them at lunch, whispering loudly as soon as I ambled by, still within earshot. Words like “stupid” and “slut,” words intended to hurt me. So much for a kind, Christian attitude, I thought. They were never rude to my face; Logan would even smile at me in Geometry if I glanced in his direction. But our friendship was gone. Finished.
At least Case remained friendly. Even though I didn't sit with him at lunch anymore, he always managed to chat for a couple of minutes in class, before Mrs. Lopez arrived, spewing rapid-fire Spanish at us. I was glad we'd become friends and that he still treated me like one. None of my other friends did.
He was waiting for me by my desk a few weeks after my lunch defection. I noticed his hair was growing out a little; soft brown wisps flirted with his eyebrows and curled over his ears.
“Hey,” I said as I
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