He crosses his arms. “You ran off the other night.”
“I’m sorry…” I take a deep breath. “Last week, you said you want to talk. Did you still want to?”
His eyebrows pop up. “I’ve got time.” He gestures at a corner booth.
After we both have our coffees, I slide in across from him. He sets his wallet on the table, opens his white paper bag, and pulls out a single doughnut hole, which he places on a napkin and slides in front of me.
I bite off half of it and chew. “What kind of construction are you doing?”
“I’m not really building anything yet. I’m still on demolition crew.”
“Yeah? What made you decide to do this?”
He takes a long pull from his coffee cup. “Remember those mission trips we used to go on? I liked building houses.”
“Why aren’t you doing construction then? Why demolition?”
“I’m lucky I got this position. I need to work my way up in the company. Hopefully, I can start actually building something soon.”
“You’re a Carmichael. You can do whatever you want, Ez.”
He takes a doughnut hole from his bag, dunks it in his hot coffee, and eats the whole thing in one bite. After he finishes chewing, he says in a hard voice, “You mean my father can get me a job. I got this one on my own.”
“I still don’t get why you didn’t go back to Cornell this semester. Did something happen there?” Please God, don’t let there be a girl involved. “A girl?”
“No, nothing like that.” He drinks his coffee and looks out the window. I take the opportunity to grab a sip myself. I’ve barely had any, since I’ve been playing detective.
“Why’d you run off the other night?” he asks again. “Something upset you, obviously.”
I cradle my cup in my hands. “I ended things with Ben for good that day.”
His eyes soften. “You all right?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
“I thought you left the party because of me. I thought I’d hurt you somehow,” he says quietly.
“To be honest, I just wasn’t ready to dance with anybody. Even you.”
“I wasn’t planning that. I just saw you there, and you looked…” A small smile forms on his lips as his mind seems to wander. I don’t think he knows he’s grinning.
“Looked what?”
He comes out of his daze. The smile disappears. He glances at his watch. “I better get going.”
The barista suddenly appears at our table. “I’m supposed to give you this.” She disappears back behind the counter as I rip open the envelope. I hope it’s not hate mail or a love letter or something.
“What is it?” Ezra asks as he starts standing up to leave.
The card says:
Let’s have some fun. Here are some questions to keep the conversation flowing.
—Miss Brady
When I told her I see Ezra at the Donut Palace sometimes, I never imagined she’d contact me here. Either she’s way into her job or she needs a hobby. I glance at one of the questions.
Would you rather eat nothing but Cheerios that had fallen on the floor or sandwich crusts for the rest of your life?
“My guidance counselor is weird,” I say, flipping through the little slips of paper. “Can we meet again tomorrow?”
“Why?” He pockets his wallet. “I got the impression you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“My counselor says I’m supposed to talk to someone every day.”
“And you want to talk to me?”
“I feel comfortable with you.” More than anybody else around here, anyway.
He smiles smugly. “Seven o’clock tomorrow then. Bye, Tease.”
After he’s long gone, I say, “Bye, Ez.”
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My eyes sweep the noisy cafeteria, looking for the seniors on my soccer team. I told Miss Brady I’d try.
I spot Nicole, Chloe, Alyson, and Brittany at a table next to the Coke machine. It’s a place to see and be seen. A tableful of rowdy guys wearing football jerseys and T-shirts sit a few feet away.
With a deep breath, I adjust my tote bag on my shoulder and head toward the girls. I walk up in the middle of a conversation.
“I’m totally going to do it with Jamie tonight,” Brittany says.
“You say that every day,” Nicole replies.
Chloe gives Nicole a dark look. “Britt, you don’t have to defend yourself to us. You can do it whenever you’re ready—” She stops talking when they notice I’m hovering beside the table.
“May I sit with you?” I ask, looking straight at Alyson. After I helped defend her goal against the Lynchburg team, maybe we’ve reached a truce.
It seems I’m right, because Alyson shrugs and gestures at the open seat next to her.
Chloe gives me a short smile, then turns her focus back to her sandwich.
“I didn’t say you could sit down,” Nicole tells me.
“Nicole, c’mon,” Chloe whines. “This isn’t middle school. Take a seat, Taylor.”
“Thanks,” I say. I slide into the empty chair, pulling my lunch out of my bag. Marina packed some veggie chili and baby carrots today.
“Anyway,” Brittany lowers her voice, “I think Jamie’s getting impatient. He says the guys make fun of him in the locker room because we haven’t done it yet.”
What the hell? This Jamie guy sounds like a dick. I sink my teeth into a baby carrot so I’m not tempted to voice my concerns aloud. If I knew these girls better, I wouldn’t hesitate to speak up, but I don’t want to get booted from the table thirty seconds after sitting down.
“Britt,” Chloe starts, “it’s not cool for Jamie to say things like that. Who cares what those assholes say?”
“Seconded,” Alyson says.
“Third-ed,” Nicole agrees, and they all giggle.
Brittany looks to me, so I pipe up, “Fourth-ed.”
“Sometimes I just feel as if I’m the only virgin left at this school,” Brittany says.
“That’s not true,” Alyson says gently.
It surprises me they are talking about something so personal in front of me, but I guess girl talk is girl talk. Plus, I did play my heart out for them the other day.
I’m starting to relax, but then the conversation changes.
“So, Taylor, why’d you change schools?” Nicole asks, staring at me over the top of her Diet Coke can.
I decide to be honest. “St. Andrew’s kicked me out.”
Chloe, Alyson, and Brittany gasp, but Nicole just looks at me knowingly. “That’s what Coach told my mom. But he didn’t say why you got kicked out.”
I pull a deep breath. Swirl my spoon around in my chili. How could the coach gossip about my private life like that? “I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
Nicole side-eyes me.
“But I’m glad to be on the team,” I add. “I love soccer. It makes starting at a new school a little easier…”
Alyson gives me a sympathetic glance.
“You’re lucky we needed more players,” Nicole remarks.
“Nicole, stop being a bitch,” Chloe says, and they give each other dirty looks.
One of the football players swivels around in his chair, leaning toward our table. “Yeah, Nicole. Shut it. Can y’all get back to talking about sex already?”
Alyson throws a grape at the guy, and for the first time since I’ve set foot in this school, I laugh, and it feels great.
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