I clench my fists and place them in my lap, trying hard not to blush too obviously, because surely the girlfriend of that boyfriend wouldn’t blush at all. I’ve never had a boyfriend. Has Penny?
I start to worry that maybe I’m the butt of some weird joke and actually Penny is Will’s girlfriend and everyone’s making fun of me, but then her smile is so warm when she looks down at me and we’ve shared that secret look and I don’t know what it is about her but she just doesn’t seem mean.
“Too bad about the lifeguard stand,” Penny says. Even in uniform she looks different from all the other girls in the class. She has an armful of gold, purple, and ruby bangles that jingle when she talks and there’s an infinity symbol drawn in black marker on the back of her hand.
“Whatever.” Peng shrugs and sinks lower in his seat.
Penny gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Just wanted to say hi. We’ll catch you later.” She spins. Her ponytail is so long that it brushes between her shoulder blades.
“If you ever decide to stop being a vegetarian, Penny, I’ve got some meat right here in my pants for you,” Harrison says.
“Vegan, Harry,” she says without turning back around. “And thanks, I believe you’ve just committed me for life.”
Harrison snarls and hunches over his notebook, and for the rest of the class neither one of the boys bothers me at all. After we’ve made a list of all the reasons resurrecteds should also be entitled to a resurrection choice, I pack my bag and check my schedule for the next class. I pack quickly, but when I finish, Penny has already vanished from the classroom. In the past, I haven’t done much talking to boys other than Matt. At least not in person. Instant messaging is its own thing.
But Will is still putting his things neatly in his bag, so I decide to stand awkwardly close to him while waiting several seconds too long to say something. When he looks at me I stammer out, “Thanks.”
He grins. His smile is friendly but not quite as warm as Penny’s. “I’d apologize for all men everywhere, but honestly, I’m not sure those two have evolved past Neanderthal.”
“Yeah.” I shift my weight on my feet. “I’m not quite sure what all that was about, but I appreciate it.”
He glances at the skateboard, which is tucked back under my arm, and then he’s right back to eye contact. A nice change from where Harrison and Peng had been training their stares. “Don’t worry about it,” Will says. “Penny”—he shakes his head good-naturedly—“she just can’t resist a charitable undertaking.”
My mouth opens but no sound comes out. I don’t know what to say to that. Was I—am I a charity case?
But if Will meant it as an insult, it doesn’t show in his body language. He extends his hand out to me and, still mute, I take it. Then we shake like we’re two businesspeople meeting at the office. “See you around, Lake.”
And all I can think is, I hope that happens soon.
My appointment ends promptly on the hour when Dr. McKenna scribbles something on a pink prescription slip and passes it across the desk. I look up and see the second hand hitting the five. Not even a minute over.
Still, I emerge from the small offices of Garretson, Smith & McKenna, PhD, LPC, CRC, like a bat from a cave, half blinded from the sun. When my eyes adjust, the first thing I notice is the hunched-over figure of Ringo sitting on the curb. His checkered shirt is stretched tightly across his back and his fingers toy with the laces on his shoes.
I hover, unsure whether to stop or pass by. Only, it’s not like I have anything else to do. I’m both best-friendless and boyfriendless. It’s amazing how quickly a fatal car crash can clear a girl’s schedule.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. My shadow crosses over his feet.
He turns to peer up at me and I can see only the side of his face that’s unmarred by the birthmark. It’s then that I’m struck by how handsome it is. Smooth skin. Dark eyebrows. Nothing like the kid I remember from elementary school. Or maybe I’m just so desperately lonely that I am seeing him as handsome in order to fill a Will Bryan–size space in my heart. Honestly, the human mind can be a total warp. “I thought you were waiting for your appointment?”
“Well,” he says. “My appointment was over two hours ago.”
“Two hours ago?” I glance back at the glass door, where our reflections are distorted. “But—then what are you doing now?”
“Now, I’m waiting. Something I’m very good at.” He leans back and gently rests his elbows on the sidewalk behind him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up toward the sky. “Behold. One of my many talents.”
I try not to stare at the birthmark, but with his eyes closed, I find myself lingering over it like I’m snooping through someone’s belongings. “For how long?” I turn my bulky, plastered arm over and scratch underneath the padding.
“For however long it takes my ride to decide to come get me.”
I shift my weight, wondering if I should have passed by after all. The heat has begun to snake up around my ankles again. A real scorcher. “You’re older than sixteen,” I say.
He opens one eye, squinting up at me, and I quickly glance away from the mark on his face. “Nineteen.”
“Then how come you don’t drive?”
“Oh, I do. I just don’t have anything to drive in. And I’ve found that’s an important part of the equation.” He shuts both eyes again, and his hair falls away from his forehead.
I stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do now. My car is one of only a few in the lot. “Do you…I don’t know…want a ride?” I ask.
He pushes himself upright and dusts off his elbows, which are now red and dimpled from the pavement. “You’re going to give me a ride?”
I wince. I’m guessing I didn’t talk to him much back in our third-grade class. I shrug. “I’m offering. Yeah.”
He thinks for a second and then heaves himself onto his feet. “Okay, then. Sure, that’d be great. I’ll just text my ride and tell them not to come.”
I’m still not sure whether he ever really had a ride as I lead him to my car and unlock the doors. The inside of the cabin is stuffy with the kind of heat that could kill a dog left inside it in under an hour. When I turn on the air conditioner, it blasts us with a desert wind that only dries the sweat without cooling anything off.
“Um, so…” I drum the steering wheel. “Where to, Ringo?” I buckle my seatbelt and wait to make sure that he does the same.
“Southshores. Do you know the neighborhood? Right near the Conch Burger and the old boatyard.”
I nod. Our town’s not exactly large. We have two big high schools and my private one and a whole bunch of tourists.
He settles his head back on the headrest and lets out a long, charged breath.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”