“That’s Vincent. He was on our cruise this summer. We almost hooked up.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Clarify, for the non-native?” I asked.
“We danced once after dinner, and he could barely keep his hands off of me. He asked me on a moonlight walk, and I know he would have at least made out with me. Seriously, he was this close to making a move, until Brendan ‘happened to run into us’ and told him I was only a freshman.” Her voice was a cross between a whine and a groan. Lovely.
“And he’s a…?”
“Junior,” she sighed.
“And did Brendan also tell this guy that you have a boyfriend?”
She waved me off, still staring at the guy. “We were on a break this summer.”
Hearing Julia talk about Rush like that, I wondered why she was even with him in the first place.
“That’s random that Vincent and….”
“Sofia,” she said.
“…Sofia were on the same cruise as you guys.” I tried to hide my annoyance that Brendan hadn’t mentioned any drop-dead gorgeous new-kid sibs with annoying names like Vincent and Sofia when he gave me the rundown of the cruise.
“Not really. Their dad just started working with ours.” She waved her hand, then smiled briefly at me before continuing to stare at Vincent. “Or something.”
Halfway down the hallway, the new girl—Sofia—stopped at a locker. No. Oh, no. My heart stopped. No way her locker was right next to Brendan’s.
Of course, half a second later, Brendan stopped there too. The second he saw her, like every other guy at this school, his jaw fell open. Drool might as well have been pouring out of his mouth. I’d never thought of Brendan as an imbecile that could be distracted by a stupid drop-dead gorgeous girl.
Guess he was.
But then something even worse happened. The girl leaned against the locker, popped her hip out to the side, tucked a tendril behind her ear, and flashed Brendan the biggest damn smile I’d seen on anyone all day. I recognized that smile. She was flirting.
Brendan smiled back and, finally, Vincent stuck his hand out and shook hands with Brendan. Brendan’s face looked wary for a second, but then he relaxed and smiled.
Julia was still buzzing as she watched them. I assumed that she hadn’t dashed over there yet because she wanted to stick by me. I couldn’t deny that I was grateful. “He’s obviously going to be best friends with Brendan. So he’ll be at the house all the time.”
“So?” I grumbled.
“So at least I get to look at him,” Julia giggled. “I’ll see you after school.”
“See ya.” I squeezed her shoulder and she was off.
I walked toward my next class, slowing down a little as I neared Brendan. He always walked me to class when he saw me. But as I got near him, the smell of that girl’s perfume overwhelmed me. Apparently it was putting him under some kind of spell—he didn’t even look at me. So I sped up instead of stopping.
When I looked back over my shoulder one last time, Vincent’s eyes met mine. I didn’t want to—I swore I didn’t—but I full-on smiled, letting it reach my eyes. And, oh God, he smiled back and flashed the most perfect dimple I’d ever seen.
Whoa. Suddenly, the hallway felt scorching hot.
I couldn’t stop, so I turned back toward my class, trained my eyes on the black and white tile floor, and sped the hell up.
Ω
For all of American History class, I tried to focus on our teacher’s lecture. History wasn’t normally that bad, and I reasoned that American History could be fun if I got Brendan to watch movies about the events with me. The Crucible, Gone with the Wind, Tombstone, The Grapes of Wrath. He loved that stuff. I mostly tolerated movies—hardly any attention span to sit through the two hours or more—but even I had a soft spot for Wyatt and Josephine’s love story.
I sat there, flipping through the pages of the textbook and adding. Four hundred and thirty-six days from when Japan joined the Axis to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Nine hundred and twelve days from Pearl Harbor to D-Day. Four hundred and twenty-six days from D-Day to Hiroshima. And twenty-five thousand, two hundred and twenty-eight days from Hiroshima to my own personal atom bomb arriving at Mansfield.
A cloud of cologne greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the classroom. I looked up, and there was Vincent, fiddling with a locker handle. He was having trouble with the thing, and I remembered how tricky the ones at Mansfield had seemed when I started here last winter. I paused for the briefest second, and then his eyes met mine. They were milk chocolaty brown with flecks of green, and had the thickest, darkest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a guy. They seemed to nearly touch his eyebrows when he looked at me.
Wow.
“Do you need some help with that?” I asked, my voice sounding way breathier than I intended.
“There’s a trick to them, isn’t there?” He grinned, and that dimple was…
Wow.
I reached over to grab the handle. He didn’t move at all, so now I was about half an inch from being pressed up next to him. I wiggled the handle side to side quickly, then wrenched it upward. Like clockwork, it popped open.
“Thanks,” he said, smiling down at me. I forced myself to break my gaze with him, and when he swung his bag up to rest it on the edge of the locker and started to stack his books inside, I saw it. A lacrosse patch, right there on his bag.
I hate lacrosse players.
The fact that lacrosse was as big at WHS as football was in a Texas town hadn’t helped my case back home. Carson had been the team captain, and everyone loved him. Breaking up the school’s poster couple by supposedly sleeping with Carson had only painted a target bigger than Texas on my back.
“Okay, well, I’ve gotta go.”
“Wait,” he said softly, smiling at me still. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Ashley,” I mumbled, looking down at my shoes.
He stuck out his hand. “Ashley,” he said. “Pretty. It suits you.”
Holy hell, those eyes were convincing. I shook his hand, and when I started to pull back, he squeezed it the slightest bit, then let go.
“I’m Vincent,” he said. “Before you go…could you show me where the hockey field is?”
“You’re trying out, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said. “What’s the matter? Is that, like, a popularity death sentence here?” he laughed.
The look on my face must have been way too transparent. I forced a smile. “No…uh, no. It’s nothing.” This guy was not Carson, I reminded myself. This guy was cute, and new, and not Carson at all. Not even close. He pulled a baseball cap out of his locker and tugged it down over his mop of curls. I spent two seconds wondering why anyone would want to cover up such perfect hair. When I caught myself, I blushed, blinked hard, and brought out the smile again.
“It’s this way,” I said. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
pleased with each other from the first
I stopped by Brendan’s locker after lunch. It was on my way to fifth anyway, and I hadn’t talked to him all day.
I’d spent the whole last period taking deep breaths and trying not to worry about Aphrodite. I tried to remind myself that Brendan wasn’t like other guys—he didn’t care about looks more than anything else. And even if he did think she was gorgeous—because, of course he would—there’s no way he would spend as much time with her as he did me. We were best friends. We lived next door to each other. We were both Mathletes, for Christ’s sake. Or, I would be, next week. Brendan would only see her a few minutes a day, at his locker. No big deal.
No big deal.
I let out a huge sigh of relief when I saw him standing there, and when he turned to smile at me, that same old grin that told me he couldn’t be happier to see me. My heart eased a little bit, and all the stress melted away.
Despite not being a lacrosse player, Brendan was popular as hell. When I first got here, I thought it was because of his money. But as I hung out with him and his friends, I reali
zed that it was his personality. That kid could get along with anyone. And he truly did, too. He was friends with the popular guys, and even though he didn’t really play sports, he could sling a ball with the best of them. But then, he was also friends with the less popular kids. Even the geeks.
Even me, who didn’t really fit in anywhere or get along well with anyone. Who, when I first arrived at Mansfield, spent her days mired in self-pity unless Brendan came to drag me out. Who was a total beast when I was first adjusting to my meds. Brendan didn’t care one bit. He patiently fed my mood with pancakes, vintage movies, or random park outings with Hamlet the Great Dane, depending on the context.
Brendan really had a good heart. Even though he was completely clueless about how hopelessly in love with him I was, he had a good heart. That’s why everyone liked him.
Brendan told me about his horrible lab partner for Chem, and we laughed about the ridiculous sweaters the math professor we shared always wore. Then, New Girl Goddess rolled in. Of course, I knew before I saw her. Her perfume made sure of that.
“Oh, Ash! This is Sofia.” He never broke his gaze away from her. If he hadn’t said my name, I would have thought he didn’t even know I was there.
“Sofia,” I said. I’m sure I sounded suspicious. I couldn’t help it. Saying her name made me sound like a pretentious Italian snake. It felt wrong on my tongue. Actually, I wished I could rinse and spit.
“You’re…Ash?” the girl asked. Even though she was the same height as me, I swore she looked down at me.
“Ashley,” I said, giving my smallest acceptable smile. “I’m Brendan’s…neighbor.”
“Yeah,” Brendan said. “She’s my…one of my and Julia’s best friends. She moved in last year.”
“Wow.” Her smile was saccharine sweet. “That’s funny! You never mentioned her the whole time we were on the cruise...”
I sucked in a sharp breath, and tried to hide my hurt. It was one week. Just one. Maybe one week wasn’t a ton of time to tell someone everything about your life back home. Even about your best friend.
“And she wants to be on the team, too.”
“Oh!” Sofia seemed to perk up. “Yeah. Obviously we’re here at Mansfield Prep over any of the other Pitt schools so that we can get into the best colleges. B here told me that this is great for applications.”
Ew. “B?” Brendan hated all nicknames. I knew because whenever Julia wanted to annoy the hell out of him she’d call him “Bren” or even “Denny.” I had to admit, that one always made me giggle.
I watched for the look of annoyance to cross his face, but he just stood there like nothing earth-shattering had happened.
This was worse than I thought.
She flashed that stupid 100-watt smile at him again. “You’re doing trials for you Mathletes team next week, right?”
Brendan stared at her with a dreamy half-smile. Gross.
“Yeah,” I said. “Starting them. There are only a couple spots on the team, though.” Maybe this girl didn’t understand that Mathletes was just as important at this school as football and cheerleading were at others. Especially that it was just as important to Brendan. Getting into Harvard, Stanford, or, as a last resort, Carnegie Mellon for their amazing math programs was his number-one goal.
If Mathletes had been this cool at Williamson, I might have been okay there. Only four Mansfield Mathletes could go to State, and if we won, only two could represent at Nationals. This girl had no idea what she was getting into. Except my stomach twisted when I wondered if maybe she did.
“Oh, I’m not worried. I’m really good. We almost made it to State last year.”
“Almost?” I said. Brendan had led Manfield’s team to State, and they’d come in third.
“Wasn’t my fault,” she said, flicking a tissue-thin piece of paper out of the brand-new planner she carried. “Just brought these to the office for my records. See for yourself.”
“That’s awesome,” Brendan said, finally finding some words. This was almost too painful. I glanced over his shoulder at the transcript. Straight As. Sofia had straight As, in honors classes. A better than 4.0 GPA.
“Yeah, awesome,” I said. It looked like I’d have to jolt Brendan back to reality. “Speaking of Mathletes, we’re still meeting after, right?”
“Um, yeah.” Brendan finally looked at me. “And we’re gonna need you.”
“Well, I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. You’re giving me a ride home, right?” He’d given me a ride home every school day for the last half a year. Granted, we’d had the summer, but still. Had he really forgotten?
“Brendan, you’re not going straight home after school, are you?” Sofia looked at him with huge eyes and a slight smile. I hated the way she said his name, like the n’s were too hum-my. “You’re coming with us to Custard’s First Stand?”
“Custard’s First Stand?” I asked, my voice going up a pitch. Most of the kids who hung out there were in middle school. Brendan nodded, looking at her like she’d asked if he wanted a million dollars.
I took a deep breath, fumbling in my bag for nothing and trying not to watch Brendan watching Sofia. “Okay, good,” I lied. “I’m craving some soft-serve anyway. So, I’ll meet you at the car, okay?”
“See ya, Ash,” Brendan said, not even bothering to look at me. I rolled my eyes and tried to explain the twisting in my gut as anger instead of the top of an inevitable downward spiral.
of a cautious temper
Custard’s First Stand wasn’t a half-bad idea. It was crazy hot outside and something made me want a big bowl of vanilla piled high with M&M’s. I hopped out of Brendan’s car and met him on his side, and we walked silently together up to the ordering window.
The breeze blew hot and lazy, swirling around my calves and where my hair touched my shoulders and back beneath the tank top I’d been wearing under my uniform shirt all day. I closed my eyes and stood there, feeling Brendan’s presence beside me. For a moment, I could imagine that today had gone just like any other day, that my best friend hadn’t been so gaga over the new girl that he had almost completely ignored me.
That I wasn’t in danger of being completely alone all over again.
“Hey.” A solid, round shoulder nudged into mine, almost knocking me off my feet. I opened my eyes and caught myself.
“Hey yourself. Watch what you do with that thing. You could hurt someone.”
“You’re right. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents.”
“Ha ha.”
“What’re you thinking about?” Brendan asked in his teasing voice. “Pretty intense daydream to close your eyes and get yourself knocked over for.”
I’m thinking about how I wish you’d look at me like you looked at her all damn day. “Oh, I don’t know. That it’s good to be back at school.”
The gravel in the parking lot crunched under rolling tires. I looked up just in time to see the shiniest red Porsche possible pull in, and Sofia’s ridiculously long legs stretch out. Vincent drove, and seeing his baseball cap dip just enough to cover his eyes made me wince. What a tool. Until he turned and looked right at me.
His eyes sparked, and tugged right at something else inside me. And the way one corner of his lips pulled up in a smile…okay. Now I got why Julia was all obsessed-at-first-sight. This guy was absolutely gorgeous.
It wasn’t long before half the lacrosse team joined us. Apparently Vincent had just introduced himself to all of them, and they were already fast friends. Most of them brought their girlfriends, and some of those girls brought their unattached friends. So, basically, we were going to have a little replay of lunchtime, except after school, more expensive, sweatier, and without any bathrooms to retreat to.
Fantastic.
I didn’t mind these girls, really, I’d just never gotten close to them. It’s not that Britt, Aubrey, Charlotte and Zoe weren’t nice, or smart, or funny, it’s just that I’d never quite fit in. My drama was way more depressing than their drama. I couldn’t bring myse
lf to give a shit about lacrosse games or who was dating who after the hell I’d gone through last fall. By the time I’d been at Mansfield Prep for a few months, they’d given up on me.
Everyone had, except Brendan.
Which is why it bugged me so much that he hung on Sofia’s every word. She was just like them. Exactly like freaking Kaylie Mitchell, who’d made my life a living hell at Williamson. Brendan had always wanted to hang out with me, not the stock pack of popular girls. And yet here he was, fawning over their newly transplanted queen bee and everything I was trying to forget from my old home.
The girls all sat on one side of the two picnic tables we’d dragged together, and the guys on the other. I reflexively sat across from Brendan, all the way on the end, and watched as all the girls leaned in toward Vincent like seedlings to the sun. He chatted with them, leaning forward and asking their names, leaning in close to say things quietly in each of their ears. The giggles were copious.
“So, what do you think about this guy?” Brendan asked, leaning forward and flicking his head toward Vincent. Just then, a tan, toned arm with perfectly painted nails rested on Brendan’s forearm. “Space for me?” Sofia’s sickly sweet voice interrupted the words I was about to say. That I thought Vincent was obviously very full of himself.
Sofia started chatting with Brendan again, flicking her hair back and pushing her chest out. Suddenly, I itched to leave the table, get up and walk anywhere. But even I knew how weird that would look, so I just looked down and pushed the M&M’s around in my melting custard, watching the colors bleed and swirl into a weird shade of reddish-greenish-brown. Between the oppressive heat outside, and the melting point of custard, I figured this would be warm soup in a few seconds under eleven minutes. Ugh. Now I didn’t even want the custard.
Solving for Ex Page 2