As hurt floods her face, regret replaces my anger.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. That was a crappy thing to say. Reed worships the ground your little feet walk on.” I ruffle the top of her head. “But, look, I’m being serious, okay? Hartley and I’ve come to an agreement. She needs a friend, and for some reason, I want to be that friend. I’m not going to hurt her and she’s not going to hurt me.”
Ella doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”
“I do. We good?”
She gives me a short nod and then throws her arms around my waist. “I want you to be happy,” she whispers against my chest.
“I am,” I say and then escape to my classroom.
I don’t like spending a lot of time in my head. Reed and Gideon are broody McBroodersons. I take action and don’t give much thought to how it’s all going to turn out. Probably because most of the time, it’s turned out okay. The times that it hasn’t? Well…
If I spend too much time dwelling on the shit that’s gone wrong, then I’m bound to end up pouring pills down my throat like I did when I was fifteen and my mom’s depression caught her by the tail and wouldn’t let go.
If hanging with Hartley made me deep dive into an emotional pit that would swallow me whole, I’d get off that ride. But being with her makes me feel good. She’s funny, doesn’t take much shit from me, and…I feel like she needs me.
No one has ever really needed me. Ella needed Reed. My mom needed pills and booze. The twins have each other.
Hartley is alone. And there’s something about her loneliness that strikes a chord in me.
But I don’t want to dwell on it, so—very uncharacteristically—I pour myself into my next four periods. I answer questions. I volunteer theories. I participate, leaving my classmates and my teachers shocked as hell.
“Are you drunk?” Hartley whispers to me during Government.
I roll my eyes. “No. Are you?”
She just wrinkles her forehead, still looking confused.
And she’s not the only one. “What’s gotten into you?” Pash demands as we leave British Lit for lunch. “Is your dad riding your ass?”
“Nah, I bet he has some big thing planned and you want cover, right?” guesses Owen, another teammate.
“Can’t a guy answer a question in class without something being up?”
Both Pash and Owen shake their heads.
“Whatever you’ve got planned, count me in,” Pash announces. The two guys slap each other’s hands in agreement and then run off, presumably to spread the word that I’m going to execute some huge stunt.
I let them speculate, because the answer inside my head—that I’m trying to forget the way a girl makes me feel—would sound even worse if I gave voice to it.
Naturally, the first person I run into when I reach the cafeteria is Hartley. She walks by with a tray piled so high that I wonder if she’s getting food for another person in addition to herself. I scan the room suspiciously but see no one lurking around. Except for me. I’m the only Hartley Wright stalker. Which is how it should be.
“Need some help there?”
Her head shoots up and the tray tips dangerously in her hands. I grab it before the pasta, sandwich and three bananas fall to the floor.
“It’s fine, I can take it.” She moves to snatch the tray back, but I swing it out of her reach.
I spot Pash in line and yell to him. “Grab me the curry dish, would you?”
He gives me a thumbs-up. That task taken care of, I look for a place to sit. Usually, I sit with Ella, Val, and a few others, but I’m trying to avoid Ella and her prying eyes and nosy questions.
I spot an empty table near the corner that everyone avoids because the administration had this bright idea to plant trees in hopes of brightening up the place. Thing is, there was a bug infestation last semester, and the corner was filled with them. Now, everyone’s afraid to sit there. Hartley wasn’t here last year, so she won’t know this.
“Really, I can carry that,” she insists.
“I know.” I don’t stop until I reach the table. I set the tray down and pull a chair out for her. “But we’re best friends now and besties eat together. It’s the law. Look around.” I wave a hand around the room where all our classmates are grouped together in twos, threes and more. “We’re herd animals. We like to be together.”
She scratches some spot on her neck and eyes me warily. “I think I’m more of a loner.”
“Great. We’ll be alone together.” I tug my tie loose. I don’t mind the pants or even the blazer, but the tie we have to wear pisses me off.
“Here’s your lunch.” Pash appears at Hartley’s side and sets the tray on the table. “Why aren’t we sitting down? Is something wrong?” He gives me an alarmed look. “Wait, are the bugs back?”
“What bugs?” Hartley asks.
I slice my hand in front of my neck for Pash to ixnay on the bug shit, but he’s not paying attention. “I hated those freaking things. If whatever you’re planning deals with bugs, you’re on your own.”
He runs off before I can correct whatever misconceptions he’s cooked up. It’s better this way.
“What’s this about bugs?” Hartley repeats.
“Are you scared of them? I’ll kill them for you.”
“I can kill my own bugs, thank you very much.”
“Good. I hate them. I appoint you as the official bug killer. But don’t worry, this is a bug-free zone.” Or at least I hope it is.
Our asses barely hit our respective chairs when a cheery voice calls my name from across the dining hall.
“There you are, Easton!”
Every head in the vicinity swivels to watch Felicity sway over to my side.
“Thank you for saving me a seat,” she gushes.
When she leans down and kisses my cheek, a collective gasp silences the room, followed by a huge boom of chatter as the gossip machines crank into high gear. Damn it. Not this again. She’d texted me like a dozen more times last night, but I ignored every message. I’d hoped that if I kept ignoring her, she’d go away.
Obviously that was hoping for too much.
Across the table, Hartley’s mouth quivers as if she’s trying not to laugh. I’m suddenly glad I told her about Felicity’s crazy fake relationship idea, otherwise Felicity’s grand entrance might’ve freaked her out.
“I didn’t save you a seat.” I cross my arms and try to look as foreboding as possible.
Felicity’s hide is tougher than an armadillo’s. She trills an annoying laugh and drops next to me. “Of course you did.” She turns to Hartley. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Felicity Worthington.”
Hartley nods. “Hartley Wright.” She sticks out her hand and offers it to Felicity, who, like the bitch she is, proceeds to ignore it.
“I’m Easton’s girlfriend. We just started going out this weekend, isn’t that right?”
“Felicity,” I growl.
“What?” She blinks innocently. “I didn’t realize we were keeping it a secret.”
Biting my lower lip, I send a pleading look to Hartley. For the love of God, help me! Get me out of this!