5
I stood on my toes in the crowd clustered by the chem lab. Lab grades were posted next to the door every Monday morning, so we’d all know exactly where we stood. Like I needed any reminders.
There I was.
Boswell, Nearly.
Second place below Bui, Anh Thi. On paper, it was only
a few millimeters of space—one half of a percent between friends—but in my mind those millimeters were miles. I had about five weeks left to narrow that gap, or I’d have to shake Anh’s hand and congratulate her on walking away with my ticket out of Sunny View.
Hugging textbooks to my chest, I pushed through the pack of hopefuls, trying not to touch any of them skin to skin. I’d almost made it out of the herd when I tripped over someone’s shoe and went sprawling across the hall, colliding into something hard. My books scattered over the floor and a tall guy with messy dark hair and multiple piercings in his eyebrow glared down at me, obviously offended. His cold blue eyes were ringed with shadows, like he hadn’t slept well in a long, long time and he was looking for someone to blame.
I backed out of his way as he bent to pick something off the floor. He came up holding a black motorcycle helmet, turning it over in his fingers and checking it for scratches before tucking it into the crook of his tattooed arm. Beside him, Lonny Johnson chewed the barbell in his lip, snapping it between his teeth, and I swallowed whatever I’d been planning to say.
I muttered an apology, but the guy just shoved me aside, growling, “Watch it.” Then he kicked my books out of reach with a heavy black boot and walked away.
I watched them go, glaring at Lonny’s friend as I plucked my books from the floor. The guy had to be new. I’d never seen him in school before. I would have remembered him. As he walked, students spread away from him on either side, like water from an oil slick.
“People say he killed someone.” Anh snuck up beside me, watching him with narrow eyes as she bent to help me collect my books.
“People say a lot of stupid things.” I should know. Most of them were about me. Lonny’s new friend may have been an asshole, but I refused to feed the West River rumor mill solely on principle.
I hadn’t realized I was still staring at him until I noticed Anh staring too. Her hair tipped to the side as she studied his retreating form. “Not exactly prom date material, but I guess he’s cute, if you’re into that whole bad-boy thing. His butt’s not bad either,” she said, watching it disappear around a corner.
I shot her a surprised look. “I’m not looking for a prom date.” “Well, you’re obviously looking for someone.” “I have someone,” I said with a grin. “I have Albert Einstein.” “I hear he’s a terrible kisser.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“What about Jeremy? Has he asked you yet?” I looked at her like she must be joking, but she wasn’t.
“I told you, I’m not going. School functions give me hives.
Big masses of stupid people in a low-volume space increase the density of the whole idea.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t calculate the probability of having a good time at a dance.”
“Sure I can. Me going to the dance is a singular event. Me enjoying myself at the dance is one of only two possible outcomes of said event. If the event and the outcome are mutually exclusive, it is safe to conclude that there is no possible way in hell I would have fun at the dance.” Anh laughed. “You’re such a nerd.”
“That’s why you love me. Since when are you so bent on going to prom anyway?”
“Since my brother decided I don’t need to have a life. He won’t let me do anything except work at the store and study.
He’s got me scheduled to work every Friday and Saturday night between now and the end of the school year. The only reason he’s letting me go to the play on Friday is because I told him it was a mandatory requirement for lit class. I figure if I can find a date for prom and buy a dress before he says no, then he’ll have to let me go to that too.” She slumped against a wall and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I can’t wait until the semester’s over and he stops riding me about this stupid scholarship.”