The warm feeling is back, clouding all my dark thoughts. I drift off to sleep, not quite trusting my budding happiness.
I dream of Monica, only her hair is shorter and darker. We sit at a table with Evan and a dark haired boy I don’t recognize. Our heads are bent over tablets that remind me of an iPad. The boy glances up and our gaze locks. The sadness lurking in his bright green eyes seeps into my marrow. His mouth lifts into a small smile before he breaks contact. As I look down, I see Monica studying the two of us. Her hatred is unmistakable.
In the morning, I wake up earlier than usual to put on makeup after my shower. Instead of my usual jeans, I put on a tan sweater with a suede skirt and heeled boots, then stand in front of the full-length mirror hanging on my closet door.
It looks like me, not the shell I’ve become.
The clock reads 7:10. At the last moment, I grab my bracelet and put it on as I go out to face my mother.
Let the questions commence.
Mom sits at the kitchen table in front of her laptop, her steaming coffee next to her. She raises her gaze as I grab my Pop Tart breakfast. “You look very pretty,” she murmurs, lifting the cup to her mouth.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have tutoring today?” She keeps her focus on the computer screen.
“Yes, I have tutoring every day except for Friday.” Irritation makes my words bristly. “Evan doesn’t tutor me every day, just so you know. I have another tutor, too. Maryann. A girl.” Brilliant, Julia.
Mom chuckles. “Sorry. I was just curious. I also wanted to remind you that you have an appointment with Dr. Weaver tomorrow after school. Unfortunately, I can’t get off work.” She looks up and uses her I-mean-business voice. “I think it’s time you start driving again.”
I take a step back, bumping into the counter. “No.”
“Julia, you have to go to this appointment and I can’t get off work. With your father gone…”
The mention of my father screws my conviction deeper. “Okay. I’ll figure it out.”
“The longer you wait to drive, the harder it’s going to be.”
“I know.” I put on my coat and pick up my backpack, heading for the door. “I’ve got to go.”
“I love you, Julia.” Mom calls after me. I hear the wistfulness in her voice, wishing things were the way they used to be.
I stop and take a deep breath but can’t bring myself to face her. Things will never be the way they used to be. “I know, Mom. I love you too.”
I walk out the front door and immediately wish I’d brought an umbrella. A fine mist falls, damp and cool enough to make me uncomfortable, but not heavy enough to soak through my coat. I’ve left a few minutes early, but instead of waiting on the porch, I start down the sidewalk. It’s better this way. There’ll be too many questions if Evan picks me up in front of the house.
He’s either running early or eager to see me. I’ve only begun walking when his dark blue car turns onto my street and pulls up to the curb next to me. The passenger door swings open and his head comes into view. “What are you doing? Why are you walking?”
“I was ready early,” I say as I climb in. “I needed to get out of the house.”
“Bad morning?”
I turn to him and smile, amazed he’s really here picking me up. “No, not any more.”
His face lights up. “You’re beautiful.” He takes my hand and strokes the back of it with his thumb.
The hair on my arms stands on end and my stomach flutters. “Shouldn’t we go to school now?”
He cups my face with his free hand. “No, not yet. Let me look at you first. I haven’t seen you since yesterday.” The way he gazes at my face, I’m glad I put the effort into applying makeup.
He’s so close all I can see are his eyes, clear blue with a few black specks scattered here and there. His thumb, rough and calloused, rubs across my lower lip.
The air in my lungs grows stale. I release my breath in a whoosh then cast a glance over my shoulder to see if Mom’s watching. The front window looks clear. “I think we should go or we’ll be late.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He pulls away from the curb still holding my hand. “What’s your first class?”
I look at him from the corner of my eye. How much do I really know about this boy? It’s odd that he’s so interested in me yet we don’t even know each other’s schedule.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “What does that have to do with your first class?”
“Nothing, it’s just we hardly know anything about each other. How can you be so sure you like me when you hardly know me?”
He looks alarmed. His grip on my hand tightens as though he thinks I’ll jump from the car. I give an involuntary jerk and his face softens and he loosens his hold. “My favorite color is blue. I like hamburgers but not pickles—can’t stand them. Running helps me relax.”
“What’s your favorite TV show?”
The surprise is back for a millisecond before he smiles. “I don’t watch TV. I read.”
“Okay, favorite book?”
“Really, Julia?”
“Yes. Favorite book?”
“Captured by Steven Morris. Happy now?” He laughs but his thumb taps the steering wheel in a rapid tempo. “So what’s your first class?”
“Spanish. What about you?”
“Calculus.”
“Sounds fun.”
He grunts. “It’s boring.”
“Because it’s hard?”
“No, because it’s too easy. They should have learned this stuff by now.”
I give him a curious look. “What do you mean they?”
His eyes widen and he swallows, scratching his forehead. “Did I say they? I guess it’s because I pick it up so fast I don’t feel part of the class.” He flashes me a smile as he pulls into the school parking lot.
My stomach cramps with anxiety.
“You okay?” he asks with a worried look. “You turned kind of pale.”
“I’m just nervous.”
Evan parks and leans close, his lips gently brushing mine. “You’re a hundred times better than anyone in this school. And if you want, we’ll leave the campus for tutoring.”
I nod, my forehead rubbing against his. Somewhere in the recesses of my memories this feels familiar, like I’ve done this before. The back of my head tingles.
He pulls away. I’m colder and lonelier and it’s like a piece of me is missing. I don’t understand this feeling or the fact that it happens every time he stops touching me.
We walk into school, Evan’s arm around my waist. Students in the halls stare and whisper as we pass. Evan tenses as we stop at my locker.
“Enough!” he yells.
The murmurs in the hall quiet and everyone freezes.
“What are you all staring at? I’ll go out with whoever I want. Anyone who has a problem with it better take it up with me, not Julia.” Evan’s voice bounces off the metal lockers and reverberates down the halls. “Now get going!”
They scurry away, casting their gaze to the floor as they pass but resume their gossiping from several feet away.
I rest my hand on his arm. “You didn’t have to do that, Evan.”
His eyes dart around, looking for someone to defy him. “I’m sick of the way they’re acting. What’s the problem, anyway?”
I shut my locker door. “The problem is that you’re one of the most popular people in school, and you’ve just announced that you’re dating the school pariah. It just isn’t done.”
He curls his lip. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Well, that’s how it is and you know it.”
“It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
I laugh, but it’s shallow from my nervousness. “I think you made that pretty clear.” I can’t help but think that over a week ago he would’ve been one of the people staring in amazement.
We stop in front of the Spanish classroom
and I smile tightly. “See you before English Lit.”
Before he has a chance to say anything, I turn on my heels and enter the classroom. I open my notebook to the page I drew on yesterday so I can work on the mystery of my hidden messages.
Senorita Gomez begins to lecture about verb conjugation. I take notes but also continue drawing, watching as the lines form a V and an A. When the bell rings, I’m sure my hand is drawing the letters to Evan’s name.
The morning flies by, leaving little time to think of anything else. As I tromp down the stairs to English Lit, I realize this is when Sarah stands outside the classroom, usually clinging on Evan like a tomato plant. My stomach twists into a ball at the thought of facing her.
Evan waits by my locker, leaning his shoulder against it. He smiles as I walk toward him and the fuzziness in my head unfurls the lead weight in my gut, if only a bit.
The way he’s watching me, added to my imminent encounter with Sarah, makes me nervous. I feel a desperate need to say something, anything to get my mind off it. “Hey, I’ve been looking at my drawings, watching as I draw them. I think I’m writing your name.” After the words spill out, I’m horrified. Out of the vast number of topics in the universe, this is the one I pick. It’s nearly as bad as saying I’ve been writing a zillion variations of Mrs. Julia Whittaker.
But he looks excited at the news. “Really?”
“Yeah, I want to look at my old ones and see if I find anything else besides the Celtic love knots.
“We can look at it together at lunch.”
“Did you find your necklace?”
A guilty look flashes over his eyes. “No, I didn’t.” He takes my hand and his warmth spreads to my cold fingers. I’m self-conscious standing so close to him, especially with the awkward glances that follow us. But word of Evan’s outburst has infiltrated the James Monroe communication network already. No one outwardly gawks like this morning.
As we walk to class, my breakfast threatens to make a reappearance. “You realize we’re about to see Sarah?”
His eyes narrow into a scowl. “The key to Sarah is to stand up to her and not take her abuse. Don’t let her intimidate you.” He squeezes my hand for reassurance.
“Easier said than done.”
He stops and looks down at me. “From what I heard, you did a great job in class last week. Sarah wouldn’t shut up about it. Besides, what does she have that you don’t?”
“Are you serious? Looks. Class. Power.”
He blinks in confusion. “You have all of those things.”
I snort and begin to walk again even though facing Sarah is the last thing I want to do. “Yeah, right.”
Evan grabs my arm and pulls me to the wall. “Are you serious? You really don’t think you’re better than her?”
“Sure, on some global, metaphysical scale I’m superior to her. But on the James Monroe social scale, I’m a cow pie.”
He shakes his head and leans closer. “There’s more to your life than this idiotic school. Change your scale of measurement.” He smiles. “You can do this.”
Sarah stands outside the door when we arrive. Her arms cross over her chest and her feet are planted hip distance apart. She has the aura of someone looking for a fight.
“Evan,” she snarls. “I see you have your new pet with you.”
Evan’s hand tightens around mine. “Her name is Julia. I suggest you learn it.” His voice is clipped.
An evil smile lifts the corners of her mouth and she raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I’ll be using it, all right.”
Evan whispers in my ear. “I’ve got to go. Will you be okay?”
“Of course.” I give him a tiny smile to prove it.
Still, he hesitates before he says, “I’ll see you after class.”
I nod and watch him walk away. When I turn to go into the room, Sarah blocks my path. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet my breath pulls in anyway. Past experience proves that sidestepping her won’t work. My best option is to find out what she wants.
She continues to stare. It occurs to me this is part of her intimidation, to make me squirm.
I lift my chin and look at her, trying to keep my face expressionless. I hope she doesn’t see the tremor in the hands clenched at my sides.
To my immense satisfaction, she caves first. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I know you’re kind of slow, but I thought it was obvious. I have English Lit every day this period.”
Evil fills her eyes. “Evan is mine. I thought I made that clear last week.”
“I guess you forgot to make that clear to him.”
Her gaze narrows and hatred oozes out her pores. “I’m warning you.”
“What’s your problem?”
“My problem is you. Ever since Evan disappeared last week, he’s been obsessed with you. Why is that?”
The bell rings and the students loitering in the hall duck into classrooms, but Sarah stands her ground. The door to English Lit closes. It’s now Sarah and me in an empty hall.
“How would I know?” I’d like to know the answer to this question myself.
“Something stinks here and I don’t think it’s your cheap perfume.”
My eyes widen out of reflex, but she notices and grins.
“Oh, yeah, I can smell your wannabe ass a mile away. I don’t know what you did to him, but I intend to find out. Consider yourself warned.” She disappears into the classroom.
My heart palpitates as my breath comes in shallow pants. Not for the first time, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
Chapter Eleven
I stand in the hall and consider my options. I can either hide somewhere and cry or go into class. While the first option is my preference, the stubborn part of me refuses to give Sarah the satisfaction. After counting to twenty—twice—I slip into my seat just in time for roll.
Mrs. Jacobs has ended her unit on Poe and decides a trip to the school library is in order. The class is thrilled, since a visit to the library is the closest thing we get to a field trip. We’re supposed to check out classical literature books for our book reports due in three weeks. She encourages us to use our time wisely, but most of the class goofs off.
I use my time wisely to check out Evan’s favorite book, Captured, by Steven Morris. When I search for it on the computer, nothing comes up. I try spelling Steven a variety of different ways but still nothing.
Huh.
The librarian sits at her desk waiting to give assistance, but most of the students are hiding behind book racks and pretending to look busy.
“Excuse me.”
She looks up, surprised. “Oh, hello, Julia. What can I help you with?”
I’m astounded she knows my name, then again, I have spent some time here lately. “I’m having trouble finding a book. Captured by Steven Morris. I even looked up both spellings of Steven.”
“Is it fiction or nonfiction?”
Good question. “I don’t know.”
She smiles. “It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t be a problem.” She turns to her computer and searches. After a half a minute she looks at me. “Are you sure you have the title and author right? I’m not coming up with anything either.”
“I thought I did…” It isn’t a difficult title or name. I’m sure it’s right.
The librarian pushes away from the keyboard. “Sorry. As far as I can tell, that book doesn’t exist.”
“Thanks anyway.” I walk away, shaking my head. I must have remembered it wrong. How can Evan like a book that doesn’t exist?
I check out Little Women before the period is over. It’s a copout. I’ve already read it but figure I need all the extra help I can get with all my makeup work. I’ll read something new for the next report.
When the bell rings, I’m heading out the library doors when I’m bumped from behind and slammed into the wall. My books fall to the floor and papers scatter everywhere.
“Oops,” Sarah laughs as she walks past. “I didn’t see you ther
e.”
She and Lindsey lean into each other and giggle over their stunt before they head to the cafeteria.
I purse my lips and try to snuff my brewing anger as I bend over to pick up the mess. A pair of hands comes into my view, scooping up papers. I raise my eyes to see a brown-haired boy I vaguely recognize.
“Thanks.” I lower my gaze in embarrassment.
“Hit and run, huh?”
I panic and my eyes widen in alarm. Is he talking about the accident?
He leans back slightly, acting like I’m contagious. “You know…Sarah smashing you into the wall and taking off?” He shakes his head and hands me the papers as he stands. “Yeah, okay…” He strides toward the cafeteria.
“Thanks,” I call after him, feeling like a complete and utter idiot.
“Why were you talking to Reece?” Evan comes from behind and catches me off guard.
I jump and almost fall over. “Is that his name?”
“You don’t know him?” His voice raises in surprise.
I gather the last of my books and stand. “No, never met him before. He helped me pick up some of the papers I just dropped.”
Evan glances over his shoulder in the direction Reece has disappeared. “He’s bad news. You’d be safer to stay away from him.”
Evan’s reaction seems a little strong considering the guy just helped me out. Then I remember Evan mentioning Reece’s name before. “But he only—”
Evan’s eyes darken and he practically growls, “Trust me.”
“Okay.” I have no reason not to, but it still rankles some hidden nerve. “Hey, while we were in the library communing with the classics, I looked up your favorite book. Only it wasn’t there.”
All expression falls off his face and he scratches his forehead. “It’s not? It’s probably because the library is so small.”
“No, I had the librarian look, but she didn’t find it anywhere.”
As he lowers his hand, I notice a slight tremor. “Must be some kind of fluke. Do you want to go to the cafeteria for lunch or your secret spot?”
I snort. “What do you think?”
“Secret spot it is. Did you bring a lunch today?”
I don’t say anything.
“As I suspected. Good thing I packed enough for you too.”
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