This Secret Thing, стр. 41
Like he was reading her thoughts, he said, “I’m sorry for what he said about you. About your mom.”
She nodded, then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, ignoring the stupid tears that pricked behind her eyes as a response to his kindness. No one had said “I’m sorry” to her about her mother since Jim Sheridan on that first day.
“You didn’t deserve to get lumped in with me,” he said. He pointed across the street at her house, and she marveled at the fact that neither her grandmother, nor his parents, had woken up through this whole thing. “You should probably keep your distance,” he said, “so that doesn’t keep happening.”
She spun around and gave him a smirk. “You think that’s because of you?” she asked, and laughed. “I guess you haven’t heard what they’ve been saying about me at school.”
He shook his head. “I mostly keep my earbuds in all the time now. Had to drown out their voices.”
“Well, you can probably take them out, because most of the talk is about me now. How I must be like my mom. How I probably work for her after school. It’s . . .” She thought of what some guy—someone who’d never spoken to her before—had said just that day. He’d thrown a dollar at her and said, “Is that the going rate?” as his friends laughed loudly, pushing and shoving each other as they moved en masse down the hall, pleased with themselves. She’d left the dollar on the ground for someone else to find. “It’s pretty bad,” she said.
“Want me to be your bodyguard?” he asked, and pretended to flex his muscles. He held his hands up. “I mean, I would, but I’m honestly just trying to steer clear of everyone, keep my nose clean so I don’t get in any more trouble than I’m already in.”
She nodded. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m fine.”
He gave her a look. “Now that’s not really true, is it?”
She rolled her eyes, feeling the tears threatening again and doing everything she could to keep them at bay. “What difference does it make?” she said, and her voice was thick in her throat. “There’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
She felt his arm go around her shoulder and tighten as he gave her a side hug, the kind you’d give a friend. The kind she’d seen him give countless girls through the years. The kind she herself had never imagined being the recipient of. She let him pull her closer, until her head was touching his shoulder. For a second—just one—she let her head rest on his shoulder, then pulled away and gave him her bravest smile.
He looked at her, held her gaze, and for a long moment it was just the two of them breathing. “Why is it that people have the power to make decisions that fuck up other people’s lives?” he asked.
She thought about it, about Olivia and Norah, how their decisions had brought them here, to this yard in the middle of a school night. “I don’t know,” she answered.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” he said.
There were so many things she wanted to say. But something told her not now, not here. So she just said, “It’s not.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. “What’s not gonna be fair,” she continued, “is when that alarm goes off in the morning.”
His smile widened. “True,” he said. “See you at school?” he asked.
She saw him at school all the time, but he never seemed to see her. She cocked her head, raised her eyebrows. “If you’ll take your earbuds out, I’ll even speak to you.”
He grinned. “Deal.” She started to walk away, knowing enough to take her leave at the right moment, surprised at the instinct kicking in. But his voice stopped her feet from moving. “Hey, Violet?” he called.
She turned and looked back at him. “Yeah?”
He crossed the yard to close the distance between them, coming to stand in front of her. For a moment he didn’t speak, and she wondered what he was up to. His face was impassive as he looked into her eyes. For a panicky moment she feared he was going to kiss her. She thought of her sleep breath. This was not what she wanted for her first kiss. She took a step back to make sure he got the message. Not now, bucko.
“I need your help,” he said. Her face must’ve registered her shock, because he quickly added, “I mean, you don’t have to or anything. I just . . . thought . . .” Then whatever courage he’d mustered up evaporated.
“No, it’s fine. What is it?” She couldn’t stand to see him looking deflated any more than she could stand to see Devin Ames knock him to the ground. She wondered why he hadn’t fought back harder, then remembered what he’d said about staying out of trouble. He’d been willing to let Devin beat the crap out of him if it meant no more cops at his house, no more drama associated with him. That, she realized, is why he’d thanked her. By coming over at all, she’d come to his rescue.
“I, um, wanted to, um . . .”
She guessed at what he was getting at. The nerves, the words that were hard to get out. Was he going to ask her out? It seemed impossible, yet what else could it be? It was just like on TV when a guy is nervous to ask a girl out. She asked a demure “Yes?” She couldn’t believe