I don’t, of course.
This is still the JFK lunchroom, and I’m not that brave. In the end, I let him get away with not answering. It’s enough that he’s here with me and not hiding out with the burners. I finish my food, just shoveling it down, so I can say I did. I’m too nervous to enjoy the salad, especially with Shane studying me so intently. I’m suddenly worried I have lettuce in my teeth.
Afterward, Shane walks me to my next class, even though he’s not in it. Instead of saying good-bye, he brushes my hair away from my face and gives me a smile that makes me forget what subject I have this period. Then he lopes away, hopefully to make his next class before the bell. I melt into my seat before remembering where I am … and that Ryan is already sitting in the desk next to mine.
As I sit down, he glances over, but he doesn’t say anything. Around us, three girls are whispering behind cupped hands. It’s so weird to be the subject of gossip over a relationship that never existed except in other people’s minds. I heard the speculation before, but it’s different, knowing that Ryan encouraged it behind my back—that he was using the rumors. I mean, he knew his parents wouldn’t approve and that I’d be upset. Who wants to be the girl somebody pretends to date while secretly going after someone better? Yet he did it anyway. My anger kindles fresh, and I tamp it down. Rage tastes like burning in the back of my throat. Once I’m calm, I bend my head to my paper, taking copious notes that I’ll probably never look at again. Afterward, I linger over packing up my stuff to give him a chance to leave.
The day passes at the speed of snail.
Before last period, I leave a Post-it for a freshman kid the football goons are harassing today instead of Shane. They call him Alexa instead of Alex, and that has to suck. Since I don’t know him, I compliment his taste in sneakers, which are awesome old-school Chucks, just the right amount of grunge. Alex does a clumsy karate kick as I go by, showing off the shoes, and I laugh. The beautiful people think I’m an idiot, but their scorn is worth it for moments like this. It’s like everybody I tag could be a potential friend.
“Hey,” Alex calls. “I hear you’re on the market again.”
… Wait, what? He’s a freshman.
I stop. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Does a younger guy have a shot?” he asks, flashing me a grin.
He’s short and skinny, like Ryan used to be. Alex has a goofy sense of personal style, plus bad coordination and unpredictable skin. His hair looks like his mom cuts it by trimming around a bowl. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Only if said younger guy can pick me up in his G6.” I figure he’ll know that’s a joke since I don’t approve of fossil-fuel burning cars, let alone absurdly wasteful private planes.
He grins. “I’ll get right on that.”
By the time I get to the bike rack, the initial after-school scramble has passed. The buses are loaded and leaving the parking lot. Most people who drive take off as soon as they can, clogging the road leading away from JFK. Still, even now, there are a few stragglers in the parking lot. Two guys wearing knit hats practice skate tricks until Mr. Mackiewicz runs them off. It’s pretty funny how he makes time to be a buzzkill even on his way out to his car.
I have fifty minutes before I need to be at the Curly Q for my shift, so I’m in no real hurry. But I’m surprised when Lila hails me. She breaks away from a pack of mostly goth posers, who are piling into a gray van. Lila is tall, five ten or so, and she might look like a supermodel, if she wasn’t so into death fashion. Her long legs eat up the distance between us.
“Where you headed?” she asks me.
I can’t figure out what her deal is today. We never talk. “Work, eventually.”
“Want to get a frap?”
Oh. I think I know what this is about, so I mumble, “There’s no dirt. Nobody cheated.”