Divided
Page 22
Brodie pulled his hand from my waist and sat up straight again. He was quiet until Mr. Vigil walked away from our table. "There's a party Saturday at Crisper's house. Come with me."
My nerves were fried, I still hadn't caught my breath, and this guy was seriously wearing me out. I laughed in his face for like a solid minute. Mr. Vigil came back and gave me a concerned look. Covering my face with my hand, I waved at him. "Sorry, sorry." Somehow, I managed to get control of myself and looked at Brodie again. "No."
He didn't flinch or miss a beat. His immediate response was, "Why not, sunshine?"
"Why do you keep calling me that? I'm far from sunny and chipper. Is that supposed to be a sarcastic insult?"
"Not at all. Something about you makes me feel kinda light and sunny. I can't explain it better than that. And I'm an excellent judge of people." He tucked a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. "This whole black hair, sarcastic, tough girl thing you got going on—it's just a front." I glared at him, but he just moved closer, our noses only a few inches from touching. "Hey, your secret's safe with me. You do a good job—it's a good front—I'm just better at spotting who people really are than others."
Right, he was the freaking Yoda of Armstrong High. I looked back down at the stupid worksheet and circled all the correct answers in less than a minute then put my pen and binder away. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him still watching me.
My impatience finally got the better of me. "What?"
"Lemme see your pen again."
I couldn't hold back my exasperated sigh as I dug it back out and handed it to him. He surprised me by grabbing my right arm and turning it over, palm up on the desk. Along my arm he wrote his number and the words, "Use It."
"Change your mind about Saturday."
What was up with this guy? How did he live with so much confidence? Didn't it make it hard to walk through doorways with a head as big as his? He didn't say If you change your mind or In case you change your mind. No, it was a command.
Three beeps on the intercom had me sighing in relief. A male voice I knew to be Mr. Jones' said, "Mr. Vigil, please send Risa Neely to the front office for check-out."
"You're leaving?" Brodie asked in an almost sad voice that made me look at him. He actually seemed disappointed.
"I have a doctor's appointment." I pointed to my knee brace and leaned down to pick my crutches up off the floor.
He slid his fingers through mine, and I couldn't completely hold back my smile over the way he kept touching me like he was my boyfriend. For someone who'd been doing her damnedest not to feel anything at all, he was seriously derailing my progress.
"Saturday?" he asked.
But I simply shook my head, pulled my fingers from his, and hobbled out of the room.
About the Author
Kimberly Montague was born and raised in the Bay Area of California before moving to North Carolina with her husband where they now live with their three dogs and oversized cat. When she's not reading, gardening, spending time with her family, or antagonizing her pets in creative and loving ways, she can be found with some form of electronic device mounted on her fingers as she tries to keep up with the large conference of characters battling for individual dominance in her brain.
This is the second novel in the Setenid Blight series. Manipulated: Setenid Blight Book Three will be available by fall 2012. She also has two adult romance novels: Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 mph and Until the Morning Sun.
Contact Kimberly Online:
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