Her smile spread across her cheeks. “Cool. You have B lunch, right? Next period? Thought I saw you yesterday, but I think you left the cafeteria. And I saw you in speech class, right? Then again, it’s hard to see anything other than Hot Hector.”
Nodding, I wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading.
“Well, if you get bored or anything at lunch, find me.” Flipping her gaze to her notebook, she wrote out the date at the top of the right-hand corner. “I’m usually up front—at the loud table. Hard to miss us.”
Was she inviting me to lunch? Oh my God, Paige and her Katniss braid could suck it. This was major. Like a huge step in the right direction, and as Ainsley would say, if I didn’t speak up, I might as well sew my mouth shut.
“Okay,” I breathed, feeling kind of stupid, but this was equivalent to four Christmas mornings rolled into one.
Keira shot me a quick grin. When the bell rang after forty long minutes of listening to Mr. Newberry wax poetic about dead male writers, she wiggled her fingers at me and then disappeared into the hall.
I made a pit stop at my locker, switched out books and was relieved that Paige didn’t pop out of one of the doors. I wasn’t going to think about her or who she was to Rider.
With a slightly stupid pep talk playing over and over in my head, I headed down to the first floor and past the stacked trophy case. I can do this. I can do this. As I stepped into the busy, crowded cafeteria, my throat tightened, and I decided I should probably get my lunch first.
But I couldn’t help but look at the table I’d seen Keira at before. She was sitting next to a girl but the seat on her other side was empty. My breath caught. I can do this. I started toward the lunch line.
“You’re breaking my heart.”
At the sound of Rider’s voice, I wheeled around, clutching my bag to my side. First thing I noticed was the faded Ravens emblem stretched over his broad chest, and then I forced my eyes up. The slight scruff along his jaw was gone. Nothing but smooth skin today.
No notebook. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a familiar, crooked grin pulled at Rider’s lips, causing the dimple in his right cheek to pop. He stepped forward, and my heart did a backflip as he dipped his chin. I felt his warm breath on the side of my cheek as he spoke.
“You didn’t respond to my text last night,” he said, and there was a light, teasing tone I didn’t remember from before. “I thought maybe you didn’t realize it was me, but that would mean someone else would be texting you good-night and calling you Mouse. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
I shook my head so fast I was surprised the ends of my hair didn’t smack him in the face.
He laughed under his breath. “I’m just kidding. You getting something to eat or...?”
My gaze drifted to the table, and I saw Keira. She was staring at us. So was the blonde beside her. Keira raised her brows at me as her dark eyes moved between Rider and me.
Rider reached down and took my hand in his. The contact sent a jolt through me, and my gaze flew back to his. “Come with me?” he asked.
Thrown by his appearance and by his touch, I let him lead me through the shorter lunch line for pizza. My gaze was wild, bouncing all over the faces of those in line and sitting at the tables. Then I realized why Keira and half of her table were staring at us.
Muscles in my stomach clenched.
I was holding hands with Rider—and he had a girlfriend.
Mouth dry, I tugged my hand free from Rider’s. Even though he’d held my hand a thousand times in the past, it didn’t feel right after what I’d learned about him and Paige. Everything was... It was different now.
Rider glanced down at me, expression curious. I looked away. He loaded up a single plate with two slices. My hand tingled as he grabbed a bottle of water and a milk.
“You still drink milk with everything?” he asked, scanning the drinks with his head tilted slightly to the side, and then he looked down at me. Our gazes met. “Like you need it to survive?”
I nodded as my heart turned into a gooey mess. He actually remembered that I drank milk every chance I got—that and Cokes, when Rosa and Carl let me get away with it.
He held my stare for a moment and then, before I could get to my wallet, he pulled out a series of crumpled ones and paid the cashier. I started to protest, but he sent me that look—the lowered-brows look he’d sent me a million times over when we were younger. The Don’t Argue Look. It was strange seeing the eighteen-year-old version, and I mulled that over as he balanced the plate and drinks in his hands. He nodded toward the entrance of the cafeteria, and I glanced in Keira’s direction. Her head was bent toward the blonde, her tight curls going in every direction. It seemed like she was in a deep conversation, and she didn’t look up.
Tomorrow, I promised myself.