“Seriously?” I threw my hands up. “One day you’re kicking my books across the hall. The next, you’re giving me your phone number. Who the hell do you think you are?”
His dark eyes flashed back and forth between mine.
“What do you want me to say?” He raised his arms over his head in surrender. “You’re right. It’s no secret where I’ve been. I did some pretty stupid shit and spent a whole semester in juvie. I’m probably not worth your time.” He rested his hands loosely on his hips, glanced furtively around, and lowered his voice. “But aren’t you being a little hypocritical?”
I stiffened, darting nervous glances as people walked by. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He answered in a low rumble, the words barely a whisper. “I know where you live. What your mother does for a living. That’s no secret either. So why is it okay for you to try to make something of your life, but not me?”
I’d expected him to bring up what he’d seen on Friday night—my daring escape from the crime scene at school. Not my mother. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Rankin says you have to tutor me to qualify for some scholarship.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” I snapped. But he was right. If I refused to take Reece on, I’d fall short on my qualifying hours. The door to my future would zip shut like an empty suitcase and I’d be stuck in Sunny View for eternity. I let out a long breath, taking in the winding tattoo on his arm and the piercings in his eyebrow, already regretting what I was about to agree to.
“What?” His half grin curled like a beckoning finger. “Do I look dangerous?”
“You could say that.” I looked away from his lips.
“I just want to pass chemistry. Please.”
Passing chemistry wasn’t all he wanted, but Rankin had me between a rock and a hard place. Whelan’s eyes widened, sensing an opening. They were lighter, warmer with his smile, and dangerous enough to make me forget about everything—even Marcia. “So what do you say? Meet me after school?”
I bit my lip. Nicholson set this up so Reece Whelan could spy on me. Get close. Get information. But I wasn’t guilty of anything, so what did it matter? Maybe the solution to my problem was the narc standing right in front of me. If he saw that I was just a boring, normal person with a boring, normal life, that information would make it back to Nicholson. Getting to know Reece might get the police off my back.
“Just chemistry,” he promised, palms raised in mock subjugation.
Right. Just chemistry. It all boiled down to one undeniable truth. Reece Whelan held my scholarship in his slippery lying fingers.
“Fine,” I said before I could change my mind. “Four o’clock.”
He flashed a self-satisfied one-hundred-watt smile and turned to go.
“I hope you’re worth it,” I called after him without thinking.
Reece’s boots paused on the tile. He turned to look at me, and his smile was gone.
? ? ? I took my bag lunch to the library and headed to a small table in the back. Jeremy was at our usual spot, hunched over his iPad. Several large maps were open and spread all across the table. I set my backpack on the floor beside him with a heavy thunk.
“Where were you after first period?”
“Why? Did you miss me?”
“Of course.”
“And all this time I thought you only loved me for my Twinkies.” A slow smiled curled his lip, and I was relieved that whatever tension there had been between us the previous morning seemed to be forgiven. He looked from his iPad to one of the maps, carefully marking a point with a yellow highlighter. “Tell me again why we’re doing this?”
“Because I won’t survive the summer if we don’t.”
“Syracuse is only six hours away. I have a car.”
“And I don’t. So we need to figure out how we can spend weekends together while you’re away on this internship.”
He dropped his chin in his hand. “I have a better idea. How about if I just don’t go.”
“Are you kidding? This photojournalism program is the perfect opportunity for you!”
“It’s at Syracuse. I don’t want to end up at Syracuse for college. My mother wants me to.” Because it was far away. Because it’s easier to push someone away than to look at them too closely and see the pain you’ve inflicted reflected back in their eyes.
“Does it matter that it’s what your mother wants? Syracuse is a great school.” And a chance for him to finally get away from his father. “You’d be a fool to pass up a chance to live on campus for a summer. You’ll be a shoe-in when you apply in the fall.”
“I’m not going to New York.” He tossed the highlighter on the map. It was a local map. Maryland, DC, and Virginia. He’d highlighted all the schools I planned to apply to.
I shouldn’t have been happy about that, but I selfishly smiled. I didn’t know what I’d do if Jeremy left for four years—he was my best friend. I picked up the highlighter and a bus map and asked, “Where do we start?”
“University of Maryland,” he said, studying me sideways. My smile widened. College Park was just over thirty minutes away.