Rumors (A Lingering Echoes Prequel)

by Erica Kiefer

The lunch bell rang. Walking down the hall on Friday, I hurried toward Mr. Nordell’s room. In my haste, I didn’t even see Shane until he called my name. He grabbed my arm to slow me down.

  “There you are,” Shane said. “Where are you going? Didn’t you see my texts?”

  I pulled my arm free from his grasp, not appreciating the hold. “No, I haven’t had time to check my phone. I was in a hurry, actually.” I noticed the irritated gleam in his eyes.

  “Well, wherever you were going, you need to cancel. Austin just had free period and is driving back with pizza. He’s meeting us in the senior quad. Come on.” He took my arm again, pulling me in the other direction.

  “Hey, stop it,” I said, freeing my limb once again. He wasn’t gripping me hard, but I didn’t appreciate him intervening in my plans—plans that were more important to me than eating cheap pizza. The annoyance in Shane’s expression returned.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. His dark eyebrows push downwards with disappointment. “We’ve hardly hung out all week. You keep disappearing.” His expression turned. His fingers caressed the side of my face and, with a softer voice, he said, “You ok?”

  At his touch, my own annoyance faltered, as did my words. I could admit that I wasn’t being much of a girlfriend to him this past week… or whatever our relationship was at the moment. Wasn’t I supposed to look forward to hanging out with him, rather than feel obligated?

  I paid attention around me for a moment, catching the infatuated ogling happening from a number of girls passing by. You are so lucky, their expressions seemed to say when they caught my eyes. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t appreciate being with Shane? Superficial or not, it was easier to be a part of this dating limelight than spotlighted by grief. I didn’t want to lose that.

  I gently removed his fingers from my face but made a point of holding his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Burying a sigh, I turned my back on Mr. Nordell’s classroom. My conversation with him would have to wait until after the weekend now. “All right, let’s go get some pizza.”