By the time I make it to my third period, every station is taken except one. An empty table with two chairs sits in the back of the class, and I scurry to it before the final bell rings.
Mrs. Crandall, the wackiest English teacher to ever come through our school, marches inside, dropping a stack of files and workbooks on her front desk.
“Good afternoon, class,” she sings-songs. We mummer a weak hello under our breaths. “That was truly pathetic.”
She’s the oldest teacher in the school and still the most respected. There’s usually a waiting list of students praying someone drops the courses so they can get in. She has this way of making her classroom feel less like work. It’s why I refused to not get in this year.
She hands out our notebooks, and I flip through the first few pages to refresh my memory of the work we’ve already done. School comes easy to me, only for the simple fact I work my ass off for it to be that way.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Kovac. So nice of you to join us today,” Mrs. Crandall says, sarcasm melting from her every word.
My head shoots up to catch Nick waltzing in like he owns the god damn place. His hat sits low over his eyes, covering the blue shade capable of turning any girl to a pile of goo at his feet. The boy has a certain kind of swagger no one can ignore, his sleeves pulled up tight around his forearms and the top button of his Henley undone, showing off his tanned skin.
“Yeah, whatever.” He waves at Mrs. Crandall who does not look enthused with his attitude.
“Sit in the back next to Ms. Barnes, please, and at least try to pretend like you want to be here.” Mrs. Crandall points to the empty seat next to me.
Nick’s eyes scan the room until they lock on mine. As soon as our gazes connect, his head drops, his chin brushing his chest. His eyes keep darting to me, like I have something on my face.
“What?”
As he starts to sit, I twist in my seat, coming face-to-face with his broad chest. Even though I could stay here all day admiring him, I force myself to look at him. His eyes are bloodshot and sunken. Has he even slept lately?
“Nothing.” He shakes his head.
Do I have food in my teeth or something? I skim my fingers over them to check.
“Today, I expect you to work with your table partner. Find a book to movie adaption, compare and contrast. What this means is you may have to watch it separately, but to have a true conversation, you may actually have to sit in front of a television together. I know how hard this can be for your generation, actual human conversation, but let’s give it a try, shall we?” Mrs. Crandall starts to pass out the list of movies.
“Mrs. Crandall?” Nick raises his hand. “Can Hannah and I go to the library to do some research?”
“Sure. If it’s going to get you to work, why not.” Our teacher shrugs and continues to the next row of students.
Nick stands and heads to the door. I scramble to grab my things and race after him, finding the hallway empty. I quicken my pace, and when I turn the corner, find him blowing right by the library and out into the parking lot.
“Where are you going?” I yell, covering my eyes from the sun.
Through the golden rays, his tanned skin glows. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens like he wants to chastise me for following him.
“We’re supposed to be in the library, Nick.” I stomp my foot, stalling in the middle of the hot asphalt.
His slack jaw tells me he’s heard my motherly tone.
“I don’t need another mom, but if you’d like to come with me, you’re more than welcome.” He shifts gears, heading straight to his truck. He throws his books inside, shuts it, locking the doors, and takes off for the back of the school.
“Fuck it,” I sing-song.
Why am I following Nick onto the cross-country path? Beats fucking me, but I am.
“If you invite someone on a walk, the least you could do is wait up.” This time I don’t quicken my pace to keep up with him. This guy can slow the hell down for me. “You’re a jackass.”
“I’ve been called worse, Hannah. Nothing new.” He stops, lifting his face to the canopy of trees.
“You look like shit.” At my insult, he shifts his attention to me.
“Did you follow me out here to tell me what I already know, or to escape with me?” He lifts his hands like he’s juggling balls, or weighing the odds if I came out here to tell him the truth or entertain him.
“Maybe I came for both.” I shrug, my eyes burning into his, and we get into this weird stare-off.
Nick reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out an ink pen. “Well, then, let’s escape, shall we?”
He holds it to his mouth, inhaling a lungful of what I know now isn’t ink.
“Since when do you vape?” I roll my eyes, cleaning leaves from a large, fallen tree so my jeans won’t get dirty.
He blows out a cloud of smoke, and a familiar odor surrounds us. He offers it to me, but I shake my head. He can’t actually be this stupid. I’m not a newbie to a little weed, but I don’t set out to do it on school grounds.
“Why’d you come out here with me then?”
“Is my smoking weed a requirement?” I grab the vape, rolling it between my hands. “And you wonder why you’ve been suspended for a game. You aren’t worried about them drug testing you?”
“Okay, fine, you’re right. I’m an asshole, a complete fuck up.” He snatches the pen and takes another drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before releasing it.
“After how you treated me the other day, I’d say that’s about right.”
“I’m not good with this kind of thing,” Nick admits. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how we left things. I should’ve texted or something. I’ve been busy.”
“So I’ve heard.” I lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, and gaze up at him.
“If you could resist sounding so disappointed, that would be great.” He sits down beside me, banging his knee against mine.
The contact is enough to have me hissing a breath. The muscles in his bicep flex against the sleeve of his shirt, distracting me.
Snap out of it, like right now.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I wave my hands in front of my face, clearing out the smoke. “Drinking, and this stupid shit won’t numb the pain, just like cuddling next to a different girl every night won’t either.”
“Who said anything about cuddling?” He says it like it’s such an obscure idea. “I only ever cuddled with you.”
At the mention of our night in his bed, I turn to face him. His ocean eyes skim over me, a lightness in them that surprises me. Like he enjoyed the idea of us cuddling together. That can’t be right, though, but why does my stomach keep flipping when he looks at me like I’m his favorite person right now?
“We hardly cuddled, Nick,” I scoff, unsure why I’m telling a lie when he knows the truth.
We had, though. He’d pulled my back close to his chest, and I’d fallen asleep to the beat of his heart. I remember every second of that night. The next morning, I’d woken up angry that I’d allowed myself to lay there, knowing it would cloud my brain.
“Call it what you want, Hannah, but our bodies touched.”
“Will you quit saying that?” I elbow him in the side.
Nick howls, finding this way too amusing. I glare a hole in his temple.
“Are you thinking about it? Is that why you’re blushing?” he asks, brushing the back of his fingers across my heated cheek.
I smack at his hand. “I’m not blushing. You don’t make me blush.”
“You should probably tell your face that, then, sweetheart,” he says in a husky tone that has me squeezing my thighs together.
Something funny happens in my chest as he skates his stare over my legs, onto my hips, up my chest, and finally landing directly on my eyes.
“What if I was blushing?” I might as well be sitting in front of him naked. Asking that makes me feel just as vulnerable.
N
ick swings a leg over the tree, scooting until his chest hits my arm. My spine stiffens as if my body knows he’s too close, and my brain knows it’s only a matter of time until it won’t be able to function properly.
“Did you think I’d forget what you said before you ran from my truck like it bit your ass?”
“What exactly did I say?” I goad him, thinking he won’t remember anyway.
“You like it when I touch you.”
My entire body heats when his hand brushes my hair to the side, exposing my neck. I stare straight ahead, too afraid to move or do something that will break Nick out of his high. I’m woman enough to admit I’m desperate to see where this goes.
“I’ve had a few days to think about it”— he takes a deep breath— “because contrary to what you believe, I haven’t been spending the last few days ignoring you.”
“What have you been doing, then?” I bite down on my lip, but he frees it, allowing his finger to linger on my skin long enough for me to notice our closeness.
“Collecting my thoughts. Wondering why it felt good to lay next to you.” He stands, reaching his hand out to me. Apprehensively, I put mine in his, and he pulls me up.
I nibble the inside of my cheek, unsure what to say or do. Is the high he’s rolling on making him say these things that twist my heart inside out? Or has he really been thinking about that night in his bed?
Unsteady on my feet, I walk out of the woods, knowing damn well our class is almost over. Behind me, leaves crunching signal his closeness. He strides past me, but turns, walking gracefully backwards.
“I think I figured it out,” he says, licking his bottom lip.
“Figured what out?” I tilt my head to the side, wondering where the hell he’s going with this. He’s looking at me like I’m a fucking afternoon snack, and it has my center clenching.
“Why I enjoyed having you in my bed beside me.” He slows his pace.
“And why do you think that is?” There’s some sick joy I feel in having Nick’s attention. We’ve never been flirty, unlike some of my other guy friends, and there’s a certain kind of intrigue having him admitting these things to me.
“It’s your ass.” He leans forward, eyeing my backside. “I can remember how it fit perfectly against my body.”
“Very funny.” I shove him a step back. “Maybe you should quit this little recreational hobby. I think it’s making you lose your mind.”
Nick chuckles as he heads back to the school. “I’ll never forget our first cuddle session, Hannah!” he yells.
Our first cuddle session? Does that mean there’s going to be a second?
Well, fuck if I don’t like the way that sounds.
I’m screwed.
*****
During fourth period, I gaze out the window at the parking lot. It’s like I’m in my own little world. I hear the teacher yammering on about something I’m sure is important. The problem is I’m too busy watching Nick make out with a freshman on the hood of a car I know doesn’t belong to her. Hell, I don’t understand why I care in the first place. When the bell rings, I can’t get out of here fast enough.
“Let’s grab something to eat,” Nicole says, shutting her locker next to mine. “What I mean to say is I really need to talk.”
“Everything okay?” I ask, sliding my backpack on my shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, but the sheen of tears tells me we need to get out of here, quick. “Come on. Let’s go.”
With my arm wrapped in Nicole’s, I usher her towards the nearest exit, hoping we can avoid anyone else stopping us to talk. At the back doors, Kellan stands outside the locker room. Nicole’s pace slows. She looks scared to death, so I lead her down a different hallway. The side door screams for us to go through it, so I do what any good friend does. I get Nicole the hell out of the school.
The drive to the restaurant is quiet. My nerves are wrecked. I’m dying to know what’s going on with her. Never in all the years I’ve known Nicole have I seen her cry. Her leg bounces, and her fingers strum on her knee as she drives.
“You going to say something?” I whisper, as she pulls into the parking lot. If my voice is any louder, I’ll spook her ass right out of the car.
“I need food.” Her head jerks around. “This requires food.”
“Are you pregnant?” I gasp, jumping from the car and staring at her over the hood.
“Do I look like I’m an idiot? We use condoms.” She rolls her eyes, which lightens the tension. “It’s far worse than that, believe it or not.”
I open the door and let her pass. “What could be worse than a high school pregnancy?”
Frank is waiting tables this afternoon. I raise a hand and point at the booth closest to the front door. He nods, telling me to help myself. Perks of working here, I suppose.
“So, do explain how something could be worse than a little Kellan running around.” I slide a menu to her, eager to hear what the hell is going on in her head.
“He said I love you,” Nicole blurts, crossing and uncrossing her arms over her chest. She picks up the menu, covering her face, giving me little to work with.
“We dodged your boyfriend in the hallway and rushed out of school because he said I love you?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of it, and yank the menu down to see her eyes watering. “Why are we crying? What did I miss?” I fan my hands in front of her face, like that will calm her down.
“I’m not the easiest person to be with,” she whispers. Her eyes are so distant, like she’s not here with me. “Like nearly impossible. I argue over everything, and I’m irrational.”
“And yet, he loves you. I mean, he said it, so he must mean it. Guys don’t tend to say those things when they don’t mean them.” I smile at her, hoping to encourage her.
“I’m unlovable. Damaged goods, Hannah.” She shakes her head.
“No, you aren’t.” Who the hell hurt this girl to the point she thinks she’s unlovable? Whoever it is, I’d like five minutes and a baseball bat with them.
“You don’t know anything about me. I’m not from a family like yours,” she spits out, like something rancid has grazed her tongue.
She’s right. I don’t know a damn thing about Nicole’s home life. I’ve never been over to her house. There’s no way I could give anyone directions over there. We are friends. We aren’t best friends. Mia showed up with her one day, and suddenly, it became the three of us.
Now, it’s the two of us.
“Whoever or wherever you’re from, Nicole, that doesn’t make you unlovable.” I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine. “Kellan loves you. That’s a good thing.”
“I can’t be so sure. The blood running through these veins begs to differ.” She leans forward, dropping her head to the table.
“If you love him, even as complicated as you’ll make it, you’ll find a way to let him in.”
“When did you become so smart about love?” Nicole lifts her head, staring at me.
Frank slips in front of our booth. “Didn’t she tell you about her and—”
I swiftly turn and glare holes into his face. “Hey, Frank.” My eyes widen in warning, and he snickers, a sly grin on his lips.
Frank likes to believe Nick has a crush on me. He’s out of his damn mind. There’s a comfortability between Nick and me. It’s why I run to him and patch his dumbass up when he needs me to, and sometimes when he doesn’t think he does. It’s this weird, unspoken bond, forged by our loss of Mia. That’s all.
“Can I get you ladies anything to drink?” Frank twitches his eyebrow at me, only to focus on Nicole.
He’s definitely thinking of plenty of things he’d probably love to call me on right now. I knew I shouldn’t have told him a damn thing about staying over at Nick’s. That was a giant mistake.
“We’ll both have water and an order of mozzarella sticks.” I hand him the menus, practically shooing him away.
“Jesus, okay, sorry for interrupting. I bet you wouldn’t shoo—” I cut him off, hol
ding my hand in his face. This makes him chuckle. He tucks the menus under his arm. “I know when I’m not welcome.”
“We’ll have an order of pretzel bites, too,” Nicole says, earning a salute from Frank over his shoulder. Once he’s far enough away, her eyes widen. “What the hell was that all about?”
“He’s been giving me shit about Beckett, calling me a cradle robber,” I lie. There’s no way I’m telling her the truth. “And we aren’t here to talk about my non-existent love life.”
“What if I can’t live up to Kellan’s expectations? He has his whole entire life mapped out. You heard him. He’s joining the military, and then what? I’m supposed to sit around with no direction at all?”
Shit, she’s spiraling. How am I supposed to make sense to her when I barely make sense to myself lately?
“You have another year of high school. You’re both juniors. There’s still time to figure it out. Hell, you two may break up before then.”
“Not the encouragement I’m looking for, Han. Thanks a lot.” Her laugh is sad, but it’s still a laugh.
“You know what I mean. The future is so uncertain. If Mia’s death has taught me anything, it’s that the future is unsteady. Nothing is guaranteed. You need to walk up to that boy and tell him how you feel, because my guess is, he said what he did, and you stared aimlessly at him.”
“I said, ‘that’s nice,’ and then I practically ran in the opposite direction.” She shakes her head, covering her face out of shame. Rightfully so. That’s brutal as hell.
“You’re fucking with me, right? He says the most magical three words in the English language and you say, ‘that’s nice’?” I laugh hysterically, garnering a glare from Nicole.
Frank glides up to the table with our drinks. Nicole is busy, typing away on her phone. Frank crosses his arms over his chest and taps his toe. His impatience irritates me.
“You going to tell her?” He shakes his head towards Nicole. Thankfully, he has the decency to whisper the bullshit spewing from his mouth.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I hiss with my teeth grated together, and I’m sure what appears to be a psychotic grimace.
Under a Different Sky Page 8