My gaze landed on the mailbox at the bottom of the drive. Ma never got the mail, and I knew I hadn’t retrieved it in several days. I stepped out from the porch and began to walk toward it, and that’s when I saw a car drive past. It was a dark SUV, and as it cruised in front of me, the light from the streetlamp sent a beam across the interior. I came up short. My principal, Mr. Harris, was behind the wheel.
For the briefest of moments, our eyes met. His registered surprise at the sight of me, and then they turned dark. Angry. Murderous. But he didn’t stop. Shaken, I turned on my heel and ran back inside without bothering to collect the mail.
TUESDAY I COULD HARDLY CONCENTRATE at school. Nobody bothered or bullied me, but there was an underlying tension all around me in the halls and in class. I was like that guest who stays too long at the party—everybody just wanted me to leave. The atmosphere was made all the worse when it was announced at the end of seventh period that Mr. Harris would no longer be our principal, and for the time being, the vice principal would be taking over as head of the school. All eyes in my ceramics class had turned to look at me, and it was obvious that everyone believed I was responsible for getting Harris fired.
After school I wanted to be alone—but not holed up in my room hiding from Ma, who was so upset and worried, too, that she’d been hitting the bottle hard again. I decided to head to the park where Stubs and I often hung out. It was over in Jupiter, and there was a half-pipe there. Kids were boarding all over it, and I grinned at the memory of Stubs trying to hang with them when he really was the clumsiest kid ever. I missed him so much; it physically hurt. I sat feeling helpless on a park bench for a long time, all the hope draining out of me like a slow, painful leak.
When I was good and numb with cold, I pushed myself up from the bench and reached for my bike. “Hey!” someone called.
The voice that had called out was familiar. I froze for a second before turning to see Aiden make his way toward me with a friendly wave. My heart started hammering. I was acutely aware of the moisture that coated my palms. I didn’t know what to say or do. There was a part of me that wanted to get on my bike and ride away, because the second Aiden figured out who I was, he’d never smile or wave at me again.
But I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the spot. “I didn’t know you came here,” he said, like we were old friends. I drank in the sight of him as he approached. He wore faded jeans and a letter jacket with a bright white J on it. The color of the jacket matched his eyes. He’d strung his cleats around his neck, and a soccer ball was tucked under his arm. “I saw you sitting over here while I was practicing,” he added, gesturing toward the large field next to the half-pipe, where a group of guys was still playing soccer.
I felt myself nodding, but speaking was proving to be a little more difficult.
“Cool bike,” he added.
I looked down. My knuckles were white against the handlebars. “Thanks,” I said, trying to find my voice. “It’s new.”
“I saw you in the stands at the Poplar game a couple of weeks ago,” he added, grinning at me. His grin was adorable—broad and welcoming. It lit up his whole face. “You go there, right?”
I swallowed hard and nodded again. What if he knew someone from Poplar High and asked about me? Oh, God, I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him look at me like all the other kids did.
Aiden didn’t seem to notice my anxiety. His smile remained fixed and friendly and so beautifully inviting. “You left the game before we had a chance to talk,” he said with a wink.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said, finally finding my voice. “I…I had to get home. My mom wasn’t feeling good.” Such a lame excuse, but he nodded as though he totally understood. I dropped my chin again and found myself fixating on his feet. He was wearing tan work boots. They looked big, but not out of place on him.
“I’m Aiden, by the way,” he said into the awkward silence that followed—and I realized he was sticking out his hand, waiting for me to shake it and introduce myself.
“Hi, Aiden,” I said taking his hand, which was warm and smooth. He closed his fingers around my palm, and I thought I’d never felt such raw energy. Heat practically pulsed between us. I was pretty sure I was lighting up like the Fourth of July. “I’m—”
“Aiden!” we heard someone shout from across the lot. Aiden turned, and a soft breeze lifted a few of his dark curls.
There was a woman in the parking lot, waving to him—and she didn’t look happy. Aiden made a face and turned back to me. “That’s my mom,” he said, turning his hand, which still held mine, to eye his watch. “I have a dentist appointment and we’re already late.”
I smiled slyly. “You shouldn’t keep the dentist waiting,” I said. “That’s his job.” I’d never had a dental appointment that’d started on time.
Aiden seemed to get the joke, because he laughed and swung our hands back and forth flirtatiously. “Maybe we have the same dentist.”
“Aiden!” his mom yelled again. “Right now, young man!”
With a sigh, Aiden let go of my hand and began to back away from me. “See you around here again sometime?” he asked. “We practice here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
I nodded, but suddenly I realized that I could never go looking for Aiden again. Not at football games, soccer matches, or here at this park. He’d learn soon enough who I was, and that smile he wore when he looked at me would fade to a look of judgment. I knew I could take that look from everyone else—the whole world in fact—but not from him.