Hunger Games is,” he announced, a grin creeping along his boyish face. “I’m not estúpido, even though Paige likes to make it seem that way.” Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he wrinkled his nose. “So I hear you and Rider got an...interesting past.”
I looked at him, brows rising as I closed the locker door. I was unsure of how to respond to that or how much Jayden really knew. Since his grandmother fostered Rider, I imagined both Jayden and Hector knew a lot, but had Rider told them everything?
“I think it’s pretty cool that you got out of that shit. Got adopted. My abuelita—my grandmother—would adopt him, but the state don’t pay for that, you know?” He stared up at the ceiling as he rocked back on his feet. “But yeah, I’ve heard and seen some horror stories. I don’t know how Rider turned out the way he did.”
I stiffened, knowing all about those horror stories, having experienced quite a few of them myself.
“I mean, Rider... He’s cool.” Jayden shrugged as he lowered his gaze. “A lot better than the ones my abuelita had in the house before. Rider got stayin’ power and he never took advantage or anything. Kind of like another older brother I never asked for.” A grin flashed across his face.
“He can be...” Heat started to flow across my cheeks. “He can be very...protective.”
Jayden’s eyes widened as his mouth opened slightly. The flush in my cheeks deepened as I pressed my lips together.
“Huh. That’s the first time I’ve heard you talk.” He pushed off the locker, falling in step beside me. Shorter than his brother and Rider, he was still a couple of inches taller than me, so my neck appreciated not having to look up to see him. “Cool. I’m quiet, too.”
I arched a brow.
He laughed. “Okay. I’m not quiet. I’m sure if you Wikipedia’d my ass, I would show up as the opposite of quiet. But that’s okay. You and I would get along like lime and tequila. You can make up for my nonstop talkin’ and I can make up for your lack of talkin’.” He nudged my arm with his. “We’re a perfect team!”
The smile returned to my face. I didn’t really know him, but I liked him. He was cute in a charming way and the fact that he was nice added about a thousand bonus points. He chatted on about some football game this weekend, and then we parted ways as we hit the stairwell, and I didn’t see him again the rest of the morning. Not even before I hit the cafeteria, but Jayden was the furthest thing from my thoughts as I passed through its open doors.
Keira was at her table, the space empty beside her as it had been yesterday. She’d been late to English class, sliding into her seat just as the tardy bell rang and she rushed out of the room after class ended, so we didn’t have a chance to talk or anything. I hadn’t seen Rider or heard from him, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to pop out of thin air and whisk me away again.
What if Keira changed her mind?
What if I walked over to her table and she laughed at me?
Sounded totally crazy, but also possible, because I felt like anything was possible.
As I headed toward the lunch line, trying to determine what the hell was on the menu, because what I saw a guy carrying did not look like roasted chicken, Keira glanced up and waved.
Relief nearly took my legs out from underneath me. If she waved, she most likely wouldn’t laugh at me when I walked up to her table. My smile was probably really creepy, so I hurried to the lunch line, no longer concerned by the fact that what was being slopped on my plate actually smelled like fish instead of chicken. Still, my hands shook as I clutched the tray.
I faced the cafeteria, wishing Rider would show up and cart me away.
Hope sparked in my chest the moment that thought completed itself. I caught my breath. That was wrong—all of it wrong, the hope and then need that filled me. Relying on him to swoop in instead of doing this myself wasn’t what I wanted or needed. My grip tightened on the tray as I squared my shoulders. Knots took over my stomach, leaving no room for an appetite.
I can do this.
Drawing in a deep breath, I forced my feet to carry me over to the table. I took two steps. I had to walk around it to make it to Keira’s side, and that had to be one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Eyes lifted from cell phones, landing on me. The stares were curious and confused, and the weight dragged down each of my steps. My chest felt tight with unfurling panic as I heard a girl at the table whisper, and Keira looked up at me.
Time seemed to have stopped.
And then a wide smile broke out across Keira’s face. “Hey, girl, I saved you a seat.” She patted the space beside her.
There was a buzz in my head, like an army of bees had burst from a hive within me. It took every ounce of concentration and effort to place the tray on the table without spilling anything and to sit without falling over. When my butt finally hit the hard plastic of the chair, I felt like I’d just climbed a rock wall.
“This is Mallory Dodge—your last name is Dodge, right?” she asked, dark eyes glimmering in the bright overhead lights.
I nodded, trying to get my lips to form a smile that didn’t make people want to run and hide their kids or something.
“Mallory’s in my English and speech classes. This is her first year here,” Keira continued, leaning back in the seat. She gestured at the girl with green eyes next to her. “This is Rachel.”
The pretty blonde wiggled her fingers in my direction.
“And that is Jo.” Keira nodded across the table at a dark-skinned girl with curly hair like hers. “And this is Anna. She’s the one who broke her wrist. She’s normally a base, but she was showing off. We all know how that ended.”
The brunette next to Jo raised her left arm, showing off a hot pink cast that circled her forearm and half of her hand. “I probably should’ve just let my face break my fall.”
Ouch.
“Yeah, if you broke your nose, you could still cheer.” Jo grinned at her.
Anna flipped her off with her good hand.
Keira laughed.
I rubbed my damp palms along my thighs. I really hoped no one shook my hand. Did people shake hands anymore? I didn’t think so. At least not at school, because that would be weird.
“You think?” Anna replied drily, raising brown eyebrows.
“Anyway.” Keira drew the word out, and then continued to introduce the other people at the table.
Everyone smiled or waved, and I liked to think the grimace on my face was more of a grin. My hands were folded so tight in my lap that my fingers were bloodless. During the flash round of introductions, two guys ended up at the table. One of them, who I recognized from one of my classes and thought was named Peter, draped an arm over Anna’s shoulder. The other sat next to Jo.
“You’re in my history class, right?” Possibly Peter asked, eyes narrowing thoughtfully on me.
My tongue was a lead pipe in my mouth so all I could do was nod.
“Cool,” he replied as he swiped a grape off Anna’s plate. Leaning to the side, he pulled out his phone. “I thought I saw you in there before I fell asleep.”
The other guy snorted.
Anna giggled. “I have no idea how you pass your classes. Seriously.”
He winked at her. “It’s my charm.”
“That’s doubtful,” Keira replied wryly as she looked at Peter. “I saw your picture this morning on Instagram. Did your shirt happen to conveniently fall off?”
Peter looked up from his phone. “This body?” He waved his free hand over his chest. “Needs to be shared with the world. See. Two hundred likes already.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “Two hundred likes isn’t something to brag about.”
I didn’t have an Instagram account. Mainly because I had no idea what I’d take pictures of. Soap carvings? That would be lame, but now I felt like I really needed to get on that.
The group fell into an easy conversation that I was ridiculously envious of. The comradeship and joking, the genuine affection for each other, was something I had
such limited experience with. I watched them as if I were a scientist studying an unknown species. I mean, I was close to Ainsley, but we didn’t go to school together like this.
I coasted through lunch, picking at my so-called chicken and what I think might have been scalloped potatoes. Chatter surrounded me. Every so often someone would ask a question or make a comment, and I would nod or shake my head in response. If anyone thought it was weird, no one said anything or acted different, but they had to have noticed that I hadn’t spoken a word.
Frustration bloomed inside me, because I knew I could talk, but every time there was the perfect moment for me to speak up, I got too caught up in overthinking what I could say. I remained silent, as if there was a cap plugging my throat closed, allowing only the minimal amount of air through.
Words were not the enemy or the monster under my bed, but they held such power over me. They were like the ghost of a loved one, forever haunting me.
Lunch ended without me talking but also without a major disaster, and I wanted to bound out of the cafeteria total Sound of Music style, with my arms spread wide. I was a complete dork, but as Keira and I parted ways, there was a happy buzz in my veins.
Today was a first.
I might not have spoken, but never had I ever sat at a lunch table with girls before. Years ago, when I attended school with Rider, I’d eaten lunch with him and sometimes with the other kids that came and went from our table, but never like this. Never on my own.
Never without someone there to speak for me.
It was major. There was probably a lame bounce in my step as I headed to class, and a small, almost triumphant smile was plastered across my face. Today was a freaking success. Go me. As speech class rolled around and I walked inside, I saw Paige in her seat, and some of the bounce went out of my step. She didn’t say anything as I took my seat, but I could feel her stare as I busied myself with pulling out my textbook. Once that was on my desk, I took a deep breath and looked up. A moment passed.
“He’s not coming. Neither is Hector.”
I blinked at the sound of Paige’s voice, and my gaze shot to her.
Paige was leaning back in her chair, her long legs stretched out underneath the desk and crossed at the ankles. Her dark eyes were fixed on me. “So, you know, you can stop staring at the door anytime now.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, I opened my mouth to tell her that I wasn’t watching for Rider, but that...that would be a lie. Heat invaded my cheeks.
One side of her lips curled up as she drew her legs in under the desk and leaned over, placing her hand on Rider’s empty seat. Her voice was low when she spoke. “I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but Rider is not available.”
Air caught in my throat as I stilled.
“Like I told you the other day, I’m his girlfriend,” she continued. “And I’ve got to say, sitting here and watching you wait for him to come in here is not cool.”
She was right.
It wasn’t cool.
“And watching you two have the reunion of the century on the first day of class also isn’t going to make the list of top one hundred things I want to repeat in my life,” Paige added, and I could also understand that. This conversation wouldn’t make my own list. “So I’m going to repeat myself just to make sure there’s no confusion. He’s my boyfriend. Stop acting like he’s yours.”
The tardy bell rang.
Paige straightened and flipped open her notebook as Mr. Santos started the class. My gaze crawled over the seats in front of us. No one appeared to have heard what she said to me, but I’d heard it loud and clear.
Message received.
* * *
Thursday evenings meant I fended for myself when it came to dinner since Rosa and Carl typically didn’t get home until nine on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sometimes later, depending on what came in through the hospital. I didn’t have much of an appetite, though.
Neither Rosa nor Carl had brought up the issue of Rider during breakfast, but he wasn’t far from my mind. What Paige had said in class lingered, and every time her words popped into my head, I cringed, but it didn’t stop me from worrying about him. Where had he disappeared to? And was he hurt or in trouble? Of course, my mind went to the worst possible scenario, even though I figured Paige would know if something bad had happened and wouldn’t have spent the time virtually warning me away from her boyfriend.
I barely touched the bowl of microwaveable rice, even though I’d loaded it with so much sodium that Rosa would’ve snatched the bottle of soy sauce right out of my hands.
Giving up on eating, I stowed the bowl in the fridge and headed upstairs. I pulled my phone out of my bag and tapped on the screen. No messages. I opened up the last and only text from Rider. Should I message him? Would it be weird if I did?
Ugh.
I tossed my phone on the bed and then pulled my hair up in a loose knot. Too restless to do my homework, I walked to the linen closet out in the hall and grabbed a bar of soap. I snagged the bag of tongue depressors Rosa had stashed away for me in the closet and carried the little bundle back to the bedroom.
I would need to soften the soap with warm water. I also needed to get a grocery bag or something to trap the shavings, so I didn’t leave a huge mess behind.
Staring at the wrapped bar of soap, I tried to think of something to carve. I’d already done trees, stars, footballs, ducks, boats, and Lord knows what else. Some were pretty simple, taking only an hour or so. Others had taken days if they were more intricate.
I started to peel the wrapping off the soap, but stopped. I didn’t want to get the shavings all over my school clothes, which inevitably would happen. I sat the soap and depressors on the desk then changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. Grabbing an old shirt out of the dresser, I tugged it on over my head. Too big, it kept slipping off my shoulder.
Turning to my desk, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror hanging on the interior of the closet door. I looked like a hot mess. Stepping closer to the mirror, I exhaled as I turned to the side. Pressing my hand on my lower stomach, I frowned. My belly was soft. My gaze dropped, and I winced.
The shorts were probably not a good idea. They were loose, but my legs were definitely...sturdy. Thighs were thick. Plucking at the hem of my shirt, I lifted it up. The tank top had a built-in bra, but the material was thin, just like the shirt. It didn’t hide any lumps. I was definitely not little. I was sturdy.
The bar of soap sat untouched on the desk.
How many people my age carved soap? Right now Keira was probably just getting home from cheerleading practice, and if Ainsley wasn’t with Todd, she was writing—she was always scribbling down short stories. Or shopping. For someone who didn’t have a job, she did that a lot, too, thanks to a hefty allowance. If she was with Todd, then she was probably making out. Something else she did a lot.
Something I was also kind of jealous of.
Embarrassing factoid I didn’t like to think about was that I’d never been kissed. Hell, I’d never talked to a guy on the phone, and definitely never gone out on a date. Ainsley had tried to fix me up with a friend of Todd’s, but I had totally bailed on that. The idea of meeting him made me want to hurl.
Months shy of turning eighteen, and I didn’t know what it felt like to be kissed or what it was like to be...to be wanted—to be loved in that kind of way.
Was I lacking in something?
I glanced down at myself and wiggled my toes as I narrowed my eyes. Sturdy. My body shape was sturdy, but Rider had said I was beautiful. Without any warning, an image of him formed in my thoughts. Brown eyes with golden flecks, broad cheekbones and incredible lips—lips I bet gave really great kisses.
Oh my God.
I could not, should not, be thinking that.
Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I opened my eyes. What I was lacking wasn’t thinner thighs or a flatter stomach. It was courage. The fact was, I was a giant scaredy-cat. How could I be thinking about a guy
’s lips when I couldn’t even get mine to work to form words?
My gaze drifted back to the soap. I guessed soap carving was a hobby, but it was a silent one and it required no words to complete, no thoughts. How appropriate. I didn’t have to put myself out there. Not like Keira did with the cheerleading. Shopping really wasn’t a hobby and writing didn’t involve getting out there, but Ainsley was outspoken, friendly and talkative. She didn’t just step out of the box, she played happily outside it. Me? I carved soap. Maybe I should’ve—
From my nightstand, my cell phone dinged. Figuring it was Ainsley since I wasn’t online, I headed over to pick it up.
It was not Ainsley.
R u home?
It was from Rider.
My breath caught.
Another text came through before I could get my brain to respond.
Alone?
My eyes felt as big as planets as I stared at my cell. This time I was not going to be crippled by indecision. I sent back a quick yes.
The Problem with Forever Page 8