by Chris Cannon
He jerked around. “Sorry.”
“Thanks. Now can you get the hell out of my way?”
He laughed and stepped aside. I shouldered my way through the rest of the crowd, while Jane trailed behind. When we reached my locker, I dropped my backpack on the floor, spun the combination lock, and whipped the door open so hard it slammed into the locker next to mine with a loud clang.
“What did that locker ever do to you?” a male voice asked.
I turned to see who was talking to me. It was the guy who’d almost hit me. What did he want?
“She’s a little cranky this morning,” Jane volunteered. “The guy she’s dating has been a jerk.”
What the hell? “Jane, sometimes you overshare.”
The guy laughed. “My name’s Chase, and you are?”
“Haley.”
“Well, Haley, if you decide to dump the jerk, maybe we could go out sometime.”
And my world turned sideways. When I tried my hardest to look good, the guy I was trying to impress didn’t notice me. When I didn’t give a crap what I looked like, and behaved in an overtly bitchy manner, cute guys asked me out.
“Okay.” I felt the corners of my mouth curve up. I watched him walk away, admiring the fit of his Levi’s.
Jane sidled up. “Dark hair, dark eyes, nice butt, I think you should go for it.”
None of this made sense. “I’m wearing faded old jeans and a turtleneck. What gives?”
She stepped back and scanned my ensemble. “Where’d those jeans come from? They fit great.”
“My mom cleaned out her closet for the shelter garage sale. I called dibbs.”
She pointed to my head. “What did you do to your hair?”
“Nothing. I washed it, dried it, and twisted it into a knot because I didn’t want to deal with it.”
Jane tilted her head. “Maybe that’s it. You have this I-don’t-give-a-crap-what-anyone-thinks vibe going today, and it’s kind of cool.”
Me. Cool. I laughed at the irony and headed for homeroom.
…
I considered faking a violent illness, so I could leave school before dealing with the whole Jane-Nathan-Bryce debacle known as lunch. For her part, Jane tried not to gush about how excited she was to see Nathan.
Before history class started, Jane leaned forward in her seat and tapped my shoulder. “We can sit at our old table for lunch if you want.”
“Did you make cupcakes?”
“Miss Patterson.”
Aw crap. I turned around in my seat to face the front of the room, doing my best to look innocent. “Yes?”
Mr. Brimer gave me the evil eye. “What is so important that you have to interrupt my lecture?”
First off, he hadn’t been lecturing. Class had barely begun. I should have ducked my head and said I was sorry. But I wasn’t in the mood today. “I asked Jane if she brought cupcakes for lunch.”
“Cupcakes?”
I nodded. Students around me laughed.
Mr. Brimer frowned. “I need all eyes on the board. We have a test Wednesday, in case you’ve forgotten.”
…
By the time lunch rolled around, I didn’t have to fake illness. Nerves had my stomach grinding against itself like it was trying to digest my intestines. “Maybe I’ll go eat in the car.”
Jane grabbed my elbow. “No way. We want Bryce to see what he’s missing.”
“Right. Unless I grow six inches and get a boob job, he’s not interested.”
“He can’t be that shallow.”
“Yes, he can. In case you haven’t noticed, he only talks to girls with a certain body type—tall and curvy. I’m probably the only short girl he’s ever spoken to.”
Ice-cold wind swirled up a mass of leaves on the sidewalk and flung them in every direction. Jane and I spent the rest of the walk picking bits of leaves out of our hair. When she opened the cafeteria door, the wind gusted and blew the door back with a bang. Students looked up to see who had made the noisy entrance.
Just what I wanted, all eyes on me. All eyes except Bryce’s, of course. He sat in his usual spot talking to Nathan, ignoring the peons around him.
“Did I get all the leaves out of my hair?” Jane asked.
Tiny pieces of brown-and-yellow leaves peppered her hair. “No. Hold still.”
I stepped behind her and ran my fingers through her hair to dislodge the unwanted debris. There were a few tiny pieces that refused to budge. “That’s the best I can do. What about me?”
She did her best to clean my hair and then we joined her boyfriend and my nonboyfriend.
“What was that about?” Nathan asked.
“What was what about?” Jane unpacked her lunch.
“Why were you messing around with each other’s hair?”
“We were trying to de-leaf each other.” I brushed at a piece of leaf stuck to my shirt, and sent it flying into Bryce’s cold fried rice.
“Watch it.” He jerked backward.
“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” To further annoy him, I reached over and plucked the leaf from his rice with my fingers.
“Have you lost your mind?” He pushed the container away.
“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. Here.” I picked up his spoon, excavated the top layer onto his napkin, and pushed the rice toward him. “There you go. All the girl germs are gone.”
Nathan had a hard time swallowing as he tried not to laugh.
Jane chuckled behind her hand.
Bryce looked at me like I’d offered him a freshly decapitated bunny for lunch.
“Don’t touch my food.” Bryce sounded exactly like my brothers when they gave me an ultimatum.
I’m not proud of what I did next, but I blame my reaction on years of sibling rivalry. I reached over and held my finger a millimeter above his rice. “I’m not touching it. I’m not touching it.”
Nathan clamped his hand over his mouth in what I guess was an attempt not to spit food across the table. Caught off guard, Jane spewed soda all over Bryce. He blinked, like he couldn’t quite believe what had happened.
Red-faced, Jane shoved napkins at him. “I’m so sorry.”
Bryce didn’t acknowledge her. He sat there seething, his nostrils flaring with every exhale.
I picked up my own napkin and blotted at the droplets of soda glistening on his cheekbones. “Don’t worry, you’re still as pretty as ever, you just sparkle a bit now.” I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it.
“You think this is funny?” He picked up his soda and shook it.
“You wouldn’t.” I pushed away from the table, but not fast enough. He aimed the can at me, popped the top, and a geyser of cold soda shot toward me. I screeched and batted the can back toward him. Soda splattered my face and dripped from my hair. And I didn’t care, because Bryce was laughing.
“What do you know, you sparkle, too.” He swiped at the rivulet of soda running down his forehead.
“What’s going on here?” The cafeteria monitor had arrived on the scene.
“His soda exploded.” Jane stated this like it was a normal occurrence.
“I know his soda exploded.” The monitor pointed at Bryce. “Mr. Colton, can you explain how this happened?”
“I dropped my soda earlier, but I didn’t count on it creating this sort of mess.” Bryce managed to look innocent and offended the monitor would suggest such a thing.
“It’s not like he survived unscathed.” Jane pointed at Bryce’s shirt, decorated with caramel-colored splotches.
The monitor narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Both of you need to clean up. Go change into your gym clothes.”
“That won’t work. I need to change more than my shirt.” I gave him an apologetic smile, hoping he’d understand my bra was wet. I didn’t want to have to spell it out for him. I knew he understood when his face colored. “Go sign out in the office. If you’re not back by the end of your lunch period, you’ll receive detention.”
“One more th
ing, I didn’t drive. Can Jane be excused, too?”
“No. Your boyfriend can drive you.” With that parting shot, the monitor turned and walked off.
I wasn’t sure how happy Bryce would be to have me in his Mustang in my current condition. I met his gaze. “Shall we?”
He flicked a small puddle of soda at me. “You’re riding in the trunk.”
Chapter Eleven
Haley
After explaining the situation to the secretary, we received a pass allowing us to leave school grounds with the stipulation that we return within thirty minutes. On the walk from the cafeteria to the main building, I hadn’t noticed the cold, because I’d been focused on Bryce. The walk to the parking lot was another matter. We’d gone less than a hundred feet and I felt like an icicle.
“I’m freezing.” Without bothering to ask, I grabbed Bryce’s arm and placed it around my shoulders.
When we were within ten feet of his Mustang, Bryce pressed a button on his key and the trunk popped open.
I bumped him with my hip, knocking him off balance. He laughed and pushed the button to unlock the doors.
“I’m not sure we can make it back in half an hour.” Bryce pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward my end of town.
“You could borrow one of Matt or Charlie’s shirts,” I suggested.
“Not going to happen.” He turned the heat on and fiddled with the temperature.
“It won’t take me long to change,” I said.
Bryce reached over and flipped a piece of my hair. “What about this?”
My hair. Here I was focused on him, not realizing I more than likely resembled a drowned rat. I flipped the visor down and checked the mirror. All in all, I didn’t look too bad. Since my hair had started out a mess, it didn’t look much worse, just crunchier. “You don’t like this look?”
“Here’s the plan, I’ll drop you off, drive to my house to change, and then come back for you. If we don’t make it in time, we have detention. Not a big deal.”
Okay. I admit it. In the far back corner of my brain, I imagined a scenario where we called off school and I spent the rest of the day with a shirtless Bryce. Apparently, that wasn’t meant to be. Still, I was in such a good mood, when he pulled up to my house, I considered kissing him.
My dad sitting on the front porch eating his lunch put an end to that fantasy. He shot up and moved toward the car. Wanting to head off any drama, I climbed out to meet him.
“What’s wrong?” My dad glared at Bryce.
“Everything is fine. Bryce’s soda exploded at lunch, and the school gave me thirty minutes to come home and change.” I waved at Bryce, indicating he should take off before Dad started the interrogation.
My dad’s eyes narrowed as he watched Bryce’s car drive away. “Where’s he going?”
I jogged toward the house. “He’s going home to change and then he’ll be back to pick me up.”
“Haley—”
“Sorry, Dad, no time to talk.” I booked up the stairs to my room, grabbed new clothes, and headed for the shower. The hot water was bliss. Too bad I couldn’t linger. Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in jeans, a cami, and V-neck blouse, because even though I wanted to look nice I wasn’t about to freeze.
With the blow dryer set on high, I blasted the moisture from my hair and twisted it up in a knot. How much time could I have saved over the years if I’d known guys liked messy hair? Since I hadn’t eaten lunch, I ran downstairs and scarfed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
According to the clock, Bryce needed to appear in my driveway in the next two minutes if we wanted to make it back to school on time. Five minutes ticked by. I considered calling his cell, but didn’t. If he was running late, he’d know and me telling him about it wouldn’t change anything. What was the worst that could happen? Detention? I’d lived through one. Another one wouldn’t kill me.
The front door opened. My dad entered carrying his plate. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”
I checked the clock. No way would we make it back in time. “Should I call him?”
“Give him a minute.” Dad poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table.
Ten minutes later, I picked up the phone and backtracked through caller ID until I found Bryce’s number. I dialed, and he picked up on the first ring.
“I’m turning into your driveway now.” He didn’t sound happy.
“Is everything okay?” Dial tone. He’d already hung up.
“Problem?” Dad asked.
“Possible mood swing in the wrong direction.” I opened the door and watched his car come down the drive.
Dad joined me and peered over my shoulder. “Want me to talk to him?”
I shot him a look. “Yeah, cause that would help.”
He laughed and muttered something about the backhoe as I ran out the door.
…
Bryce
Everything would be fine. I needed to hold it together for the rest of the school day, and then I could go home and politely ask my father why his secretary, Ginger, was sitting in our kitchen, in one of my mother’s robes, at ten till noon.
My head pounded as I replayed the scene. I’d gone in the back door, taking my usual route, and walked past the kitchen. Thank God Ginger hadn’t seen me. I’d snuck up to my room, washed my face, changed shirts, and then exited the house through a side door, grateful I hadn’t run into my father.
Jolting down Haley’s substandard driveway did not improve my mood. I knew we were going to be late. Nothing I could do about it. There’d only been a slim chance we’d make it in time to begin with. As soon as I brought the car to a halt, she dashed over and climbed inside.
One look at my face, and she reached for my hand on the steering wheel. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. Talking about it, opening up to Haley sounded good but I wasn’t ready to go down that road, and it’s not like it would solve anything.
She retreated to her side of the car and stared out the window. I turned the car around and headed for school. Detention was a given. At this point, I didn’t care.
Reaching the end of Haley’s gravel road, I hit smooth pavement and stepped on the gas.
Haley said something I didn’t catch. “What?”
“I said, are you mad at me?”
“Not everything is about you.”
I heard her quick intake of breath. Honestly, I couldn’t deal with any drama from her right now. It was all I could do not to drive back to the house and demand an explanation. Both my mother and I put up with my father’s habitual absences. He expected me to win every golf and tennis match I played, but never came to watch. I’d lost count of the times he’d missed my mother’s charity events. What the hell was wrong with him?
“Stop,” Haley yelled.
I slammed on the brakes, inches from the doe, which bounded across the road in front of me. Haley flew forward, like a rag doll, restrained by the shoulder strap of her seat belt. I braced myself against the steering wheel. My breath came in gasps. I jerked my head up to check the rearview mirror, praying not to see a car bearing down on us. Thankfully, the road behind us was empty. I pulled the car over on the shoulder of the road and tried to regroup.
First order of business: Haley. “Are you hurt?”
She sucked in a breath. It sounded like she was trying not to cry.
Hell. Could this day get any worse?
“Talk to me, Haley.”
She sniffled.
Checking to makes sure there wasn’t any oncoming traffic, I climbed out of the car and walked around to open her door. I squatted down so we were on eye level. “Tell me what hurts.”
“My shoulder feels like someone tried to rip my arm off.”
I reached over and unhooked her seat belt. “Let me see.”
She turned and I moved the neckline of her blouse over to check her shoulder. An angry red welt stood out against her fair skin. The thin material of her blouse had done little to break th
e friction of the seat belt.
“Damn it.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“Are you going to cry?”
“Maybe.” She wiped at her eyes. “My shoulder is killing me, and we almost hit that deer, and I don’t even know why you’re mad at me, and we need to get back to school.”
At least I think that’s what she said. By the end of her rant, her voice was so high she sounded like one of those cartoon chipmunks.
Only one of those items was within my control. I pulled out my cell and dialed school. I explained the situation to the secretary and told her I needed to take Haley home or to the hospital. She advised me to have both our parents call in to excuse the absence. Yes, because that’s what mattered right now.
“School is taken care of.” I’d call my mother once I had Haley checked out. “Do you want to go home?”
She nodded.
I drove back to her house, keeping watch out for large land mammals trying to kill us. I drove even slower down the gravel road to her house. Partly because I was paranoid about her dogs, and partly because her dad wouldn’t be thrilled with me.
When we stopped in the driveway area, her dad was nowhere to be seen.
“Your dad needs to call school—”
“I know.” She unbuckled her seat belt, keeping her head down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t see the deer. My mind was someplace else.”
She nodded.
Her dad came out the front door. I wanted to drive away, but that wasn’t an option. I climbed out of the car. “We almost hit a deer. Haley’s pretty shaken up and the seat belt hurt her shoulder.”
Before I could make it around to open Haley’s door, her dad was giving her a hug. She burst into tears and said something in that chipmunk voice.
He looked over at me, and I braced myself for the tirade I knew I deserved.
“You okay?” her dad asked.
I nodded, shocked he’d asked.
“Let’s get in the house.” Her dad gestured like I should come, too. It’s not like I had anywhere else to go. There were issues at my house I didn’t want to deal with.
Seated at the kitchen table, her dad inspected the welt on her shoulder. “Let’s get some ice on that.”
