Bao reached under the counter and pulled out a fresh copy without looking at me. It was heavier than the one I passed back to him, and I decided to trust the personals were all in there, rather than open it in front of Lonny’s friend, who looked like he was running out of patience.
I folded it under my arm, grabbed my milk, and made a beeline for the passenger side of Jeremy’s car. But Anh was already in my seat. I wrestled with my backpack and got in behind her, struggling to get comfortable. Anh’s seat was set far back, the way I usually liked it, and now it left very little room for me.
Jeremy pulled out of the space before I had time to fasten my seat belt and made a rolling stop out of the parking lot, ignoring oncoming traffic. A horn blared.
“Do you think we should make sure Bao’s okay?” Anh asked, clutching her armrest and craning to look back at the store window.
“I’m sure Bao can handle those guys. Besides, you don’t want to be late. Bao and I have money riding on the two of you.” Jeremy’s eyes found mine in the mirror. He was looking at me when he said it, but sitting in the backseat, I wasn’t so sure who he’d put his money on.
7
Archimedes knew the play wasn’t really the thing.
Do the math and find me after the show.
I drew a wide blue circle around the ad with my lab marker, careful not to touch the print. I had no doubt the ad was written by the same person who wrote the Newton one. The tone and cadence felt so similar. Both read like a puzzle waiting to be solved. But what did it mean?
Someone grumbled behind me. I flipped the ad facedown on the desk and looked over my shoulder to see TJ fighting with his leg brace, looking exhausted. He was early today and I’d thought I was alone. Class didn’t start for another ten minutes.
He stretched forward, struggling to capture the bottom strap. It was unfastened and dangled just out of reach. The weariness on his face, that flat and colorless veneer—the one my mother painted over with makeup—reflected every loss he’d sustained. His father was gone, in prison since TJ was in middle school. His mother had killed herself shortly after. And now he was stuck living in Sunny View with his drunk uncle, maybe indefinitely, since he’d lost any shot at a football scholarship when he’d hurt his knee last season. We weren’t all that different really, and turning my back on him felt wrong.
“Do you need a hand with that?” The words were out before I realized I’d offered to touch him. I tucked my hands under my legs.
He noticed. “No, thanks anyway.” He gave a forceful heave, his face reddening as he grabbed the Velcro strap and secured it in place.
“I’ve been meaning to ask about Emily,” I said, guilty that I hadn’t at least tried to look helpful. “I hope she’s okay.”
“She’s okay,” he said, frowning as though it hurt to think about her. “She’s just freaked out. I’m going to see her after school. I’ll tell her you were asking about her.”
I stared at my fingers, rubbing at the dark smudges, curious about the glue that held Emily and TJ together. Emily was really all he had. She’d stayed—through his move from Belle Green to a trailer in Sunny View, through the breakdowns that followed, through the countless rejections when the last of the college scouts and recruiters stopped coming for him. For some reason I desperately wanted to understand, Emily had stayed, knowing a future with TJ might not be all she’d dreamed it would be.
A handful of students filtered in and I curled my fingers over the edge of the newspaper, studying their faces for the hundredth time this week. I was still trying to figure out who had left the dead cat on my doorstep and the graffiti on my desk. It had to be someone in one of Rankin’s chem classes— or someone who’d seen the Schr?dinger assignment on the blackboard and knew where I sat—but that could be anyone. I looked over just as Oleksa Petrenko was sliding into his seat. He’d been absent the last three days and a not-so-small part of me had hoped he wouldn’t come back. Our stares held as he eased back in his chair, amusement clear in his eyes.
“Stop staring. He’s going to think you like him, and that’s just plain scary.” Anh dropped her backpack and settled in beside me. “And you’d better put those away before Rankin sees them.”
I looked down at the exposed corner of the Missed Connections and blushed. I squirreled them away, crossing my arms and staring straight at the blackboard before she could say another word.
She raised an eyebrow. “If you need a date—”
I opened a textbook, pretending to read it. “Don’t you have extra credit to do?”
“Fine. But if you did need a date,” she whispered. “Like maybe to the school play tonight? I could set you up with my brother.”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell her that was the dumbest idea she’d ever come up with and no freaking way I was going on a date with Bao. But the words stuck in my throat. I had that slippery feeling in my head again.
“What did you say?” I whispered, careful not to attract Rankin’s attention.