“Because she’d have to make room for me on the couch next to you!” Ben throws back.
Mr. Draper has finally figured out that there’s about to be blood splashed on his classroom walls, and he hurries over to remind us that it’s time to get to our next class. We step out into the hallway, and I turn to Ben.
“Let’s finish this conversation at lunch,” I tell him, giving Finn a look. “Alone.”
Finn does not like the sound of that. “Jessa—”
“Lunch, Ben,” I reiterate, and he gives me a stiff nod before he stalks off.
Finn glowers as we walk toward our next class. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“He’s not a threat. He’s my friend, Finn. And you’re only a text message away,” I remind him.
“So what am I supposed to do for lunch?” he gripes.
“You’ll survive.” I push past him and he follows me into the classroom.
“Finn!” Ms. Eversor comes up behind us and puts her hand on his back, making her bracelets jangle noisily. “I must tell you how I loved your story! It was inspired! To have yourself as a fat, ugly pirate disguised by a magician’s spell—so creative!”
My lips twitch. “That was your backstory? An ugly pirate?”
He shrugs, but Ms. Eversor isn’t done singing his charms. “Yes, it was! Just as yours was, Jessa, though your pirate was much more dashing. Finn’s story had such a good plot device,” she bubbles. “His pirate’s spell was discovered when he got too close to the girl he was trying to woo and she smelled him!” She claps her hands together with pleasure, as she heads up to the front of the room to start class.
“The odor shattered the illusion and broke the spell,” Finn supplies.
I give him a look. “An ugly, malodorous pirate? Really?”
“And fat,” he adds. “Really morbidly obese. I thought about giving him a clubbed foot, but decided it was a bit of a stretch.”
“A bit,” I deadpan. I slide into my seat and he takes his place next to me.
We spend the next half hour working with Chloe Merrick to craft a group poem, utilizing words that begin with the first eight letters of the alphabet. I hate assignments like this, since the structure is so confining, but I think we do a pretty good job of it. We finish early and we’re just sort of talking when Chloe turns toward Finn.
“Hey,” she says. “Did I hear you say you have nothing to do for lunch?” She gives him a megawatt smile, and I find myself sitting up in my chair from my former slouched position.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” he says, and his eyes shift to me briefly before he gives her his full attention.
“Well, I’m, like, in the drama club and we’re supposed to do this show tonight?” It’s not a question, but the way she talks, it sounds like it. “It’s a really boring show,” she goes on. “About some stupid judge here in town and a big trial or something. The lady from the historical society wrote it. Anyway, we haven’t finished painting the set and we could really use a hand.”
“Sure,” he says. “Where do I go?”
“I’ll walk you there.” She leans in, putting her hand on his arm.
We don’t say another word to each other until the bell rings, and as he follows Chloe out the door, he turns back to me.
“Maybe she has a thing for enchanted pirates,” he says.
I press my lips together and glare at him. “Maybe she hasn’t noticed your smell yet.”
27
Tug-of-War
I find Ben waiting for me outside the doorway to the cafeteria. He’s leaning against the wall, with one foot up against it, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but there waiting for me.
“What’s up?” I grab a tray as we file through the door and head up to the line.
“So he let you off the leash?” Ben says snidely.
I raise my brows. “We’re talking about Finn?”
“My favorite subject,” he says. “You two are joined at the hip lately. I couldn’t get a word in if I tried.”
I put an order of french fries and a bottle of water on my tray and give him a glare.
“Last time I checked, I don’t have to report to you,” I say.
He grabs a slice of pizza for himself, shoving it next to my food on the tray, and we make our way to the cashier.
“I got this,” he says, reaching for his wallet.
“Don’t do me any favors,” I say, pushing his hand away.
“Don’t be like that.”
“Then you don’t be like that.”
He throws a twenty down before I can dig in my bag, and we take our stuff over to a table and sit.
I grab my food, shoving a fry in my mouth and looking pointedly away from him. I hear him let out a sigh as he shoves his pizza away.
“I hate this. What are we doing, St. Clair?”
I look at him with chagrin. “I hate this, too. I miss you.”
He leans across the table. “I miss you, too. I miss hanging out. I miss talking in class. I miss all our dumb nerd humor.”
“Well, you’re the one who’s shutting me out,” I say crossly.
“I can’t get anywhere near you without him in the way. Are you two officially dating, or what?”