Brian looked flustered as he began rummaging through his things to find his class schedule. His face turned a bright shade of red, and beads of sweat began forming on the back of his neck. He was obviously thrown off by the fact that a person like Drew Markoviak was talking to him.
“Don’t worry about it, Brian,” Drew said with a calming voice. “It’s an easy mistake, and maybe it’s not even your fault. I bet the office ladies double-booked this locker on accident. They’re idiots like that.”
Brian looked up at Drew with a hesitant smile, though he couldn’t quite succeed at making eye contact with her.
“Tell you what.” Drew set down her backpack and yanked my class schedule out of my hand.
“What are you doing?” I whispered frantically.
Drew ignored me as she unfolded my schedule and began tearing at the top right corner. “Gemma’s locker is at the other end of the hall. It’s in a really good location, across from the girl’s bathroom and right next to a vending machine.”
I wondered how in the world she knew where my locker was or where the vending machines were for that matter. Then it hit me: she didn’t.
She continued, “But since I think you’re a great guy, Brian, I’ll let you have Gemma’s locker, and she will just share mine. That way we don’t have to go to the office and confront the grouchy office ladies. Deal?”
Brian looked at me for reassurance. But before I could respond Drew had Brian’s schedule in her hands and was tearing off the top right corner of his schedule as well.
“Here.” She shoved the torn piece of my schedule in Brian’s face. “This has the locker number and combination on it.” She handed him back his schedule, slipping me the torn-off corner with his locker number and combination. “And really, Brian, don’t worry about a thing. It was an honest mistake.”
Brian stumbled away from the locker, clearly not knowing what had just happened. But just like everyone had last year at Franklin Junior High, Brian obeyed her orders and disappeared down the hall.
I started loading a notebook into the locker—not because it was heavy, but because I wanted to look like I belonged in high school—when Drew began opening the locker next to it. “What are you doing?” I was more confused now than ever.
“You didn’t really want a share a locker, did you? We’re in high school now.”
“I’m not following.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just know that you are now going to have your own locker next to your best friend.”
I looked back and forth between Drew and Brian’s open locker. “This really was Brian’s locker?” I was piecing it all together. “You lied to him.”
Drew leaned against her open locker and took a bite out of a pear. “White lies don’t count.”
“Not to the person telling them anyway.” It was Trace’s voice, and when I turned back to my locker, he was leaning against it with his arms folded and a skeptical expression.
I was, of course, surprised to see him. I didn’t think he was going to ever talk to me again after what happened the night before. “Oh, hey, Trace.” I stepped around him and grabbed the notebook back out of my locker. “How’s it going?” Keep it casual. Act like nothing happened.
“I wanted to apologize about last night.”
I took in a deep breath. “Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I could feel Drew watching us from the corner of her eye, though she was pretending to be watching the football players chatting at their lockers.
“I shouldn’t have taken off like that. I mean, you shouldn’t have done some things that you did either, and I guess I was just mad. But I still acted like a jerk. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
I knew he was waiting for more. Maybe an explanation. Probably an apology. But I wasn’t ready to give either of those. It just didn’t seem right somehow to apologize to Trace when things with Jess and me were still so off. “What’s your schedule like?” I looked up at Trace for an answer but soon realized that both he and Drew were still as statues, both staring in the same direction. I turned to see what they were looking at when I saw Jess coming down the hall. Half of the big, burley jocks at the lockers across from us shouted their greetings at him as he approached. Blond, brunette, and red-headed girls alike swarmed him with smiles and flirtatious squeezes and batted eyes. It was so weird to see him like this, and strange to realize that Jess, my Jess, was the Buddy Holly of Franklin High. But he was oblivious to it all because as he approached our lockers, he had a sad, distant gaze that was locked on my own. As he passed, he lightly lifted the corners of his lips as if to tell me that despite it all—the fighting, the weirdness, and uncertainty—he was still happy that I was there.
As it turned out, high school was just a larger and slightly more cliquish version of junior high. The school itself was built sometime in the mid-fifteen hundreds (I swear), so the halls were tall and dark, and the classrooms smelled of duct tape and the eighteen layers of paint that covered the walls. But the coolest part about the school—the one thing that made it bearable to look into my future and see myself practically living there for the next thirty-six months of my life—was the courtyard. It was located on the opposite side of the school from the parking lot, and it expanded for a good half mile before it disappeared into a forest of trees. The school itself was surrounded by mountains, and there was a certain place on the grass beyond the lunch tables where if you laid on your back long enough, you actually felt like they would fall on top of you. I know this because I was in that very spot from the time lunch ended until the final bell rang. Drew’s older brother, Greg, had told her that in high school, the principal doesn’t even call your parents when you skip class, that your teacher just marks you absent and it shows up on your report card at the end of the year. By that time, if your parents actually notice it, they figure you were just sick that day. So I guess I have to correct myself. Now there were two things about high school that made it bearable.
I lay on the ground with my head burrowed in the grass, my arms sprawled heavily over my stomach, trying as hard as I could to not think about what had just happened at lunch. I had been sitting just ten feet closer to the school at one of the tables on the courtyard patio when it happened. And by it, I mean…it.
Drew and I had just gotten our lunch—pizza and a soda (because Drew had informed me that’s what you’re supposed to eat in high school)—and were comparing the rest of the day’s classes when Jess stepped up behind Drew and motioned for me to come talk to him. It annoyed me that he was acting so cool, that he could just nod his head in a certain way to provide a command. It annoyed me even more that I got up from the table and followed him like an obedient dog.
“Let’s sit down,” Jess said under his breath. He looked almost as tired today as he had last night. I obeyed him and quietly sat on the grass, crossing my legs underneath me and followed him with my eyes as he lowered himself beside me. For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. He just squinted ahead through the sun toward the mountains while twisting a piece of grass between his fingers. I wanted so badly to tell him about my second-period English class and how I had actually gotten Ms. Gilbert—the worst teacher in the history of Franklin High. Jess had her the year before and had warned me about her a hundred times. I wanted to tell him how her knee highs had fallen around her ankles just like he always said and how she didn’t even notice that a couple was making out on the back row of the class.
But things were different now. Jess didn’t call me over to the grass to hear about Ms. Gilbert or the make-out session.
Jess scratched at something on his shoulder, which seemed to pull him away from whatever he was thinking about. He looked at me suddenly as though just remembering that I was there. “How’s your day been so far?”
“It’s a first day…you know.”<
br />
He nodded, understanding that that was about all the information he was going to get. “I feel really bad about last night.”
My shoulders relaxed slightly. “Yeah, me too.”
“I never should have talked to you like that. I don’t know what it is about that Trace kid, but he always brings something out in me.” He took a deep breath. “It’s not his fault though.”
“No, it’s not.” I agreed. “It’s my fault.”
Jess stared at the grass in his fingers as he slowly shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault either.” He hesitated on his next words. “I think everything that happened between us was…” he considered his words carefully. “It all happened so fast. Maybe too fast.”
I focused on his lips as he spoke, making sure I heard every single word, because it almost sounded like what he was saying was that he thought it was a mistake. The letter, the kiss, all of it. He wished it had never happened.
He continued, “I mean, I like you. You know I do.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that fact. “But it was like, one minute we were just friends, and the next minute we kissed, and then we went three months without seeing each other or barely even talking for that matter.” He caught his breath. “But when I got home, it was like we were already in the middle of this three-month long relationship and…” His head fell to his chest. “I don’t know, I just don’t think we’re ready for it.” He took in one more breath before concluding. “I don’t think I’m ready for it.”
I looked away from him and down at my hands in my lap. Was it possible that Jess had just said what he said? Did he just tell me it’s over? Was Jess Tyler—my Jess, my lifelong, lives-across-the-street, throws-rocks-at-my-window best friend—breaking my heart? “Is this because of last night?” I asked, silently pleading for some kind of an explanation.
He looked at me for the first time, and I could feel him staring at me with pity in his eyes. Like it was torturing him to have to watch me suffer. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Gemma. It’s sort of been building up all summer. I mean that night was incredible, and what I said in the letter was true. I meant every word of it. But we’re sixteen. It doesn’t make sense for either one of us to be tied to one person.”
It was impossible to breathe, let alone fight or nod or move at all. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that. I had no idea how to respond. So I didn’t.
“Do you think we can start over?” he continued, but I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “Do you think we can go back to the way things were? Can we just be friends again?”
I felt my head turn toward him, and soon I was staring at him, suddenly despising the face I had loved for so long. Friends? He wanted to go back to being friends? I knew that the answer to his question was no. I knew as clearly as I knew my name that things between Jess and me could never be how they were before. Before last summer. Before the kiss. Even if we made it past this. Even if a day existed somewhere in my future where I could look at him in the eyes without wanting to cry, without wanting to slap him across the face, our friendship would never be so deep, so true, so untainted as it had been before. But I didn’t want Jess—or any boy on earth for that matter—to know that he’d hurt me, that he’d affected me, that he had killed a part of my insides, so I nodded slowly. “Sure.”
Jess took in a deep breath while nodding his head slowly. “Okay.” He stretched his neck to look behind us, and I became aware that everyone had cleared out and started to head to their classes. “I better go,” Jess said. “My class is on the other side of the school.”
“Mine’s not too far,” I offered, even though in reality I had no idea where my next class was, nor did I care. “I think I’ll wait a minute. I don’t want to be the first one in class.” But the truth was that I didn’t want to leave with him. The truth was that I couldn’t bear to be near him for another second. The truth was that I never, in a million years, would expect to ever feel that way about Jess, but I did, and it was killing me.
I laid my head back and examined the sky. I noticed how small it actually looked and how I suddenly wanted to be an eagle and fly far away from this place. How had I allowed myself to become so vulnerable? What was I thinking anyway? Jess Tyler and me? Of course not. How could I even hope for that? I was so stupid and I was starting to hate myself for it. I wasn’t sure how long I had laid there, but it felt like a decade. I was only slightly aware that the final bell of the day had rung. I heard the chatter of students far away as they made their ways to the parking lot on the other side of the school. I figured I’d only lay there until it got dark. Then I’d make my way home. But Drew didn’t let me go that long. Her shadow blocked the sun from pressing against my eyelids. I opened one eye and saw her hovering over me, her arms folded. I retreated back to my original position. “What?” I said.
“You skipped class.”
“Two of them, actually.”
“We only have one class together this semester, Gemma. And you missed it.”
“I’m really not in the mood right now.”
I felt her kneel at my side and brush her hand over my arm. “What happened?”
I contemplated for a moment how much I was willing to say out loud. But I figured it was better to get it over with. She was going to find out soon enough. “It’s over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s over. He dumped me.”
“Not a chance. Jess would never dump you. It’s not possible.”
“Trust me, it’s possible.”
“What did he say?”
“That he just wants to be friends.”
“Friends? Are you serious?”
“Dead.”
“What? Because of last night? Because of Trace?”
I shut my eyes tight, willing the tears to stay away. “He said he’s been thinking about it for a long time. All summer.”
“What a jerk.” Drew paused for a moment as if letting it all sink into her brain. “I did not see that coming.”
But as I thought about the past three months, the dissipating phone calls, the gnawing feeling in my gut, and the sleepless nights leading up to his return, I had to admit that as much as it hurt, I wasn’t all that surprised.
Chapter 4
While I was asleep, everything was okay. I dreamed that I was eleven again, and Jess and I were walking home from school. He was hanging from a soccer post the way he always did, with the hood from his red sweatshirt draped lazily over his head and his eyes dancing with laughter at something I’d said. Then he dropped to the ground, and in that weird, dream-state kind of way, he was suddenly at my side, holding my hand, telling me that he loved me, that he always would.
And then I woke up.
I blinked at the sun pouring through my window. It was Tuesday and only eighteen hours since Jess had broken my heart. I closed my eyes again and buried my head under my pillow. Then my phone vibrated on the nightstand next to my bed. It was Drew.
“I thought you could use a little nudge out of bed this morning,” she said, and I could tell from her raspy voice that she had just woken up as well. “The morning after the breakup is always the worst.”
“How do you know?” I laid my head back down and wiped my hand over my burning eyes. “You always break up with them.”
“And why do you think that is?” she yawned. “I had my heart broken once, and it will never happen again.”
“You did? When?”
“Summer after eighth grade. I met him in Atlanta when I was living with my dad. His name was Riley Turner. I seriously thought I was going to marry him.”
“What happened?”
“He brought some lame note to my house when I was at a museum with my stepmom. He said we couldn’t go out anymore because I was too tall. I burned the note.”
> “Serves you right for falling in love with a short kid named Riley. Isn’t that a girl’s name?”
“I think it depends how you spell it.”
I glanced at my clock. “Tell me again why we’re having this conversation at six in the morning?”
“Because you’re in pain and you need your best friend to help you through it. And since Jess took your heart and cut it up into ten million tiny pieces, I’m now your best friend by default.”
“Thanks, Drew.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be at your house in an hour. I’ll take you kicking and screaming in your pajamas if I have to.”
“I’m sure that will really help my reputation.”
“Your reputation is going to need all the help it can get now that you’re Jess Tyler’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Luckily, nobody at Franklin High knows about us. At least I don’t have to deal with that humiliation.”
But I was wrong. I was oh so very, very wrong.
People I had never seen before and who had no right on this earth to know my name turned their heads to watch as Drew and I made our way from her car to the front door of the high school. Hands covered mouths and eyes watched me pitifully as I walked to my locker, grabbed what I needed and headed into first period.
“That was a really crappy thing of him to do.” I looked to the left of my desk to see Kate Bowman, a girl I’d said two words to in the past four years, hunched over my elbow. “I hear that the junior and senior guys are always taking advantage of sophomore girls.” She flipped a piece of hair out of her eye. “He was probably cheating on you anyway. Do you know if he was?”
“He wasn’t cheating on her,” a voice behind me cut in. It was a girl who had transferred to Franklin from Highlands. I only knew her first name was Brynn. “He just wasn’t ready for a steady relationship. Carly Eisenhower heard the whole thing.”
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