office. We’re about to get busted anyway, just standing here.”
“If you really do forgive me, then you wouldn’t still be going to the office.” He tightens his hold on the strap of my backpack.
“Ohmysweetgoodness, Galen, why are we even having this conversation? You don’t even know me. What do you care if I change my schedule?” I know I’m being rude. The guy offered to carry my things and walk me to class. And depending on which version of the story I believe, he either asked me out on Monday already, or he did it indirectly a few seconds ago. None of it makes any sense. Why me? Without any effort, I can think of at least ten girls who beat me out in looks, personality, and darker foundation. And Galen could pull any of them.
“What, you don’t have a question for my question?” I ask after a few seconds.
“It just seems silly for you to change your schedule over a disagreement about when the Titanic —”
I throw my hands up at him. “Don’t you see how weird this is for me?”
“I’m trying to, Emma. I really am. But I think you’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and it’s taking a toll on you. You said every time you’re around me something bad happens. But you can’t really know for sure that’s true, unless you spend more time with me. You should at least acknowledge that.”
Something is wrong with me. Those cafeteria doors must have really worked me over. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be pushing Galen away like this. Not with him pleading, not with the way he’s leaning toward me, not with the way he smells. “See? You’re taking it personally, when there’s really nothing personal about it,” I whisper.
“It’s personal to me, Emma. It’s true, I don’t know you well. But there are some things I do know about you. And I’d like to know more.”
A glass full of ice water wouldn’t cool my cheeks. “The only thing you know about me is that I’m life threatening in flip-flops.”
That I won’t meet his eyes obviously bothers him, because he lifts my chin with the crook of his finger. “That’s not all I know,” he says. “I know your biggest secret.”
This time, unlike at the beach, I don’t swat his hand away. The electric current in my feet prove that we’re really standing so close to each other that our toes touch. “I don’t have any secrets,” I say, mesmerized.
He nods. “I finally figured that out. That you don’t actually know about your secret.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Or I just can’t concentrate because I accidentally looked at his lips. Maybe he did talk me into swimming.…
The door to the front office swings open, and Galen grabs my arm and ushers me around the corner. He continues to drag me down the hall, toward world history.
“That’s it?” I say, exasperated. “You’re just going to leave it at that?”
He stops us in front of the door. “That depends on you,” he says. “Come with me to the beach after school, and I’ll tell you.”
He reaches for the knob, but I grab his hand. “Tell me what? I already told you that I don’t have any secrets. And I don’t swim.”
He grins and opens the door. “There’s plenty to do at the beach besides swim.” Then he pulls me by the hand so close I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he whispers in my ear, “I’ll tell you where your eye color comes from.” As I gasp, he puts a gentle hand on the small of my back and propels me into the classroom. Then he ditches me.
8
THE FINAL bell rings and students leak from every crevice of the redbrick building. Bus brakes hiss in the distance and the lower classmen corral into the bus ramp, bottlenecking to board. The juniors and seniors herd to the parking lot in a steady stream, which seems to coagulate around Galen and his not-so-modest car. He leans against the trunk, nodding to the males admiring the vehicle and avoiding eye contact with the females admiring something else.
The wave of students turns into a traffic
“If you really do forgive me, then you wouldn’t still be going to the office.” He tightens his hold on the strap of my backpack.
“Ohmysweetgoodness, Galen, why are we even having this conversation? You don’t even know me. What do you care if I change my schedule?” I know I’m being rude. The guy offered to carry my things and walk me to class. And depending on which version of the story I believe, he either asked me out on Monday already, or he did it indirectly a few seconds ago. None of it makes any sense. Why me? Without any effort, I can think of at least ten girls who beat me out in looks, personality, and darker foundation. And Galen could pull any of them.
“What, you don’t have a question for my question?” I ask after a few seconds.
“It just seems silly for you to change your schedule over a disagreement about when the Titanic —”
I throw my hands up at him. “Don’t you see how weird this is for me?”
“I’m trying to, Emma. I really am. But I think you’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and it’s taking a toll on you. You said every time you’re around me something bad happens. But you can’t really know for sure that’s true, unless you spend more time with me. You should at least acknowledge that.”
Something is wrong with me. Those cafeteria doors must have really worked me over. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be pushing Galen away like this. Not with him pleading, not with the way he’s leaning toward me, not with the way he smells. “See? You’re taking it personally, when there’s really nothing personal about it,” I whisper.
“It’s personal to me, Emma. It’s true, I don’t know you well. But there are some things I do know about you. And I’d like to know more.”
A glass full of ice water wouldn’t cool my cheeks. “The only thing you know about me is that I’m life threatening in flip-flops.”
That I won’t meet his eyes obviously bothers him, because he lifts my chin with the crook of his finger. “That’s not all I know,” he says. “I know your biggest secret.”
This time, unlike at the beach, I don’t swat his hand away. The electric current in my feet prove that we’re really standing so close to each other that our toes touch. “I don’t have any secrets,” I say, mesmerized.
He nods. “I finally figured that out. That you don’t actually know about your secret.”
“You’re not making any sense.” Or I just can’t concentrate because I accidentally looked at his lips. Maybe he did talk me into swimming.…
The door to the front office swings open, and Galen grabs my arm and ushers me around the corner. He continues to drag me down the hall, toward world history.
“That’s it?” I say, exasperated. “You’re just going to leave it at that?”
He stops us in front of the door. “That depends on you,” he says. “Come with me to the beach after school, and I’ll tell you.”
He reaches for the knob, but I grab his hand. “Tell me what? I already told you that I don’t have any secrets. And I don’t swim.”
He grins and opens the door. “There’s plenty to do at the beach besides swim.” Then he pulls me by the hand so close I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he whispers in my ear, “I’ll tell you where your eye color comes from.” As I gasp, he puts a gentle hand on the small of my back and propels me into the classroom. Then he ditches me.
8
THE FINAL bell rings and students leak from every crevice of the redbrick building. Bus brakes hiss in the distance and the lower classmen corral into the bus ramp, bottlenecking to board. The juniors and seniors herd to the parking lot in a steady stream, which seems to coagulate around Galen and his not-so-modest car. He leans against the trunk, nodding to the males admiring the vehicle and avoiding eye contact with the females admiring something else.
The wave of students turns into a traffic
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