“They just leave you to deal with the mess?” Shane asks, after Ryan bails.
Since I’ve hardly looked at him since the others arrived, I’m surprised that he’s hanging around. Surprised but glad. I finish breaking down and folding the pizza box before replying. “I’m the library liaison. I talked Miss Martha into letting us use this room, and they don’t usually allow food in the building.” I hesitate, wondering if I’ll sound crazy anal if I try to make him understand. I settle for, “So it’s on me if the room’s not clean enough at the end of the night.”
It’s not that I’m a total neat freak, just that this falls under the heading of keeping a promise, something I am fanatical about.
“I get that.”
I pick up the second box. “There’s one piece of veggie left if you want it.”
“Sure you don’t?”
“I’d have suggested we split it if I was still hungry.” I flip open the second pizza box, offering him the final slice.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Thanks.”
He picks off the mushrooms, then devours it in six bites, not that I was counting, and afterward, he helps me clean up the room, though he laughs when he sees I’ve got wipes in my bag, which I use on the table and the arms of the chairs. Shane Cavendish is even better with humor shining in his eyes. I can’t stop looking at him, whereas, to him, I’m sure I’m the weird girl trying to hide a big butt with a flouncy skirt.
“Do you have a vacuum cleaner in there, too?” he asks, tapping my backpack.
“That’s where I draw the line.” Though I have considered bringing a hand broom and dustpan to sweep up crumbs. Not that he needs to know that. “Does it look all right?”
“Fine.”
He follows as I head out, pausing to pull the door closed. It locks automatically, so we’re good to go. That thought depresses me. Oblivious to my chagrin, he trails me downstairs; it’s ten minutes until closing and Miss Martha has started turning off the lights. I wave at her as I go out the front door; she smiles back. She’s a pleasant woman in her mid-fifties with short salt-and-pepper hair and a fondness for beads, reflected in the bedazzled top she’s wearing.
Outside, he gets to watch me put on my reflectors. Clearly, there’s nothing hotter than a hygiene-and-safety-obsessed girl. But part of my deal with Aunt Gabby involves this gear; she said she could only allow me to ride my bike after dark if I agreed to her terms. Which means this stupid helmet with a light on it, and glow strips all over my body, like I belong in a bizarre off-Broadway show. My cheeks heat as I get to work while Shane studies me in horrified fascination.
“You can go,” I tell him through clenched teeth.
“What are you doing?”
“My aunt makes me. It’s the cost of nocturnal bicycle freedom.” At his blank look, I explain, “She thinks I’ll get run over if I don’t wear it.”
“Ah. Well, you’re pretty hard to miss.”
I have no idea what that means, if it’s a compliment, or a crack about the size of my butt, or a reference to my awesome light helmet; I could totally go spelunking in this. When I buckle the chin strap, I’m wishing for death.
“Think you’ll come back next week?” I ask.
“Unlikely,” he says.
So it was the free pizza. Well, that’s to be expected.
“See you tomorrow,” I say, and then I wish I hadn’t because it makes me sound like I’ll be looking for him.
“In geometry, right? You’re next to me, one seat back.”
“Yeah.” I’m so absurdly pleased that he saw and recognized me that I offer a ten-thousand-watt smile. Then I remember my teeth are a little crooked and I have suck-your-blood canines.
Shane doesn’t seem to mind. Or notice. “Be careful out there. How far are you going?”