Fourteen (4 page)

I couldn’t wait until graduation.

I saw the white orchid hanging off the locker as I walked down the hallway the next morning, but it didn’t register. Guys were always sticking flowers of sorts into their girlfriend’s lockers just to be cute and make them screech annoyingly for the rest of the morning, so I didn’t think anything of it.

It was, however, unusual to see it hanging from
my
locker.

My bag fell from my shoulder, and my mouth dropped open as I stared at it. There had to be a mistake. This couldn’t be right. Someone must have got the lockers switched and accidentally put it on mine.

Or someone was playing a joke on me.

I looked around the hallway and found that everyone was staring at me as well. I reached up with shaky hands and pulled it down. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a white note card attached to the stem fell down against the back of my hand. I flipped it open, my eyes widening when I saw the handwriting.

You were right.
You don’t deserve any of it.
Let me make it up to you.

I stared down at his words, my hands shaking as I traced over the writing with my fingertips. Maybe it was still a joke. Maybe he had some kind of hidden camera somewhere in the hallway, waiting for my reaction so that he and his friends could laugh over it for years to come. Or maybe he was dared to do it and wanted to see how far I’d let it go.

I grabbed my book bag and opened my locker. I shoved my book bag inside and grabbed my books, setting the flower carefully on top of my bag and untangling the note from it. I ignored everyone, kept my chin up, and I walked to class. I slipped inside, thankful that it was still empty, and walked over to my stool, plopping down onto it and resting my elbows on the table. Then I surreptitiously grabbed the note card from the top and flipped it open again.

It was his handwriting. I’d only gotten a few glimpses of it when I had attempted to help him pick up his papers, but it was unmistakable.

What was he doing? What was he trying to pull? This wasn’t making any sense. This couldn’t be right. Since when did anything I say to anyone actually have this kind of outcome?

I looked up when the door opened and my heart jumped into my throat as Evan walked in. I stared at him as he slowly walked over, then sat down in the empty stool beside me and carefully placed his books on the table.

“So?” he asked, looking over at me.

“What are you trying to pull?” I choked, looking down at the note again.

“I’m not trying to pull anything.” I watched from the corner of my eye as he fidgeted with the edges of his textbook. “You’ve never done anything to me, and I never really gave you a chance. I’d like to . . .”—he sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight—“I’d like to get to know you.”

“Who put you up to this?”

“Jesus Christ, Arianna, no one put me up to this.” He sighed, exasperated. “This is something I want to do.”

“Why?”

“Because you were right.”

“I have a feeling I won’t be hearing that phrase often.”

“No, probably not.”

I looked over at him and smirked when I saw the one on his face. I sighed and turned back to the note card.

“Fine. One chance, Evan. If you really want it, you’ve got it, but you won’t get another one.”

“I got it.”

“Okay.”

“Did you still want to switch partners?”

“I guess . . . not,” I mumbled, hating myself and hoping that he meant what he was saying.

If he really meant everything he’d said, we’d get along just fine. The problem was I couldn’t be entirely sure. In his opinion, he might’ve been taking a big chance on talking to me and befriending me, but it sure as hell felt like I was the one jumping off a cliff.

“There’s a party at Steve’s next weekend,” he said slowly. “Would you like to go?”

I looked at him, wondering whom he thought he was talking to. Now, I was almost positive the flower had been a joke. He wanted
me
to go to a party full of people that would rather trip me than talk to me and treat me like a normal human being? He wanted
me
to go to a party that I wasn’t even invited to with people that I couldn’t stand.

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“Why?”

“Are you going to stop asking me that question anytime soon?”

“Are you going to stop giving me cause to?”

He sighed, exasperated once again. “So that I can get to know you, and so that we can hang out a little.”

“You want to get to know me at a crowded party with people that, as a rule of high school hierarchy, don’t like me?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Really.” I eyed him. “So everyone isn’t going to look at me like they do when I’m here and say the exact same things they do while we’re here, right? Things are going to magically change because we’re not at school anymore?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’re not stupid, Evan,” I said, my voice quiet. The door opened, and his head immediately snapped in that direction, and I clenched my jaw. “So stop thinking the best of your friends because different scenery won’t change the things they say to me or how they treat me.”

He looked at me, shifting uncomfortably and fidgeting as Brittany walked into the classroom.

“Hi, Ev!” Brittany squealed, prancing over to him and leaning against the edge of our lab table. “You know, I was thinking that maybe we should go out tonight.”

She popped her gum, flipped her sleek blond hair over her shoulder, and giggled in a way that reminded me of an over-excited chipmunk. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, leaning an elbow on the table and resting my chin in my hand. I stared out the window, disappointed at how quickly I seemed to disappear from his radar.

He didn’t want us to be seen talking, that much was obvious, but he wanted to get to know me somehow. This whole thing only solidified my thoughts about the orchid being a complete joke. I didn’t understand why he would invite me to a party to “get to know me” but couldn’t seem to bring himself to let the same people that were throwing the party see us talking at school.

I listened to Brittany and Evan flirt with each other, my heart sinking further in my chest when I realized that no matter how many times I told myself that I didn’t like him anymore, I still did. I was as stupid as the rest of the girls in this high school, and there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about it.

I didn’t notice when my other classmates started piling into the room, barely listened when Mr. Streeter called us to attention, and definitely didn’t look at Evan the entire forty-five minutes that I had to be there. When the bell rang, I realized I had no idea what went on, and didn’t know what we had to do for homework. I mechanically got up from my stool and gathered my books. Staring straight ahead, I walked out of the classroom and into the hallway.

At lunch I sat with Christina and Vince. I’d been sitting with them practically since kindergarten. They both had study hall first thing in the morning and had taken the option to have their parents write notes to get them out of it. We barely saw each other in the halls before lunch. They didn’t know about the orchid—at least, they didn’t mention anything to me if they did—and I wasn’t ready to tell them the whole story just yet. I needed more time to work it out on my own before I brought my friends into it.

Plus, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary almost made me forget that the opposite was true.

Dad was home when I got there, and I automatically made dinner for us. He wasn’t a very good cook and while he did try his best, it usually ended up with the smoke detector going off. I had learned the basics of cooking from watching my mom do it, and when she was gone, I had taken over the responsibility of cooking.

We sat in silence as usual until I declared that I was done and went upstairs to start my homework. Around five thirty, the phone rang, and I ignored it until Dad called up the stairs that it was for me. I moved sluggishly down the stairs, offering him a small smile as I took the phone.

“Hello?”

“Um, hi, Arianna.”

I didn’t even have enough energy to slam the phone down, as I should have.

“Can I help you?”

“I, uh . . . are you all right? You just . . . you didn’t seem like yourself after—” He stopped.

I stared hard at the floor. “How’d you get my number?” I finally asked.

“I know how to use a phone book. Are you all right?”

“Peachy.”

“Did I do something?”

“Why would you think that?”

“You were just . . . you don’t normally zone out like that is all. I just . . . Arianna, did I do something wrong?”

“Listen, Evan.” I sighed. “Whatever you seem to want to pull off won’t work if you’re too embarrassed to be seen talking to me. I’m not a secret, and I refuse to be yours.”

“You don’t understand my friends, Arianna.”

“Anna,” I snapped.

“What?”

“I hate my full name, so stop it.”

“Okay, well,
Anna
, you don’t know what my friends are like. They need to . . . they need a warning.”

“Should I wear a bright orange jump suit? Better yet, put me in a cage and smack a sign on the outside that says
Don’t Feed the Anna
. Hell, God knows I’d lose weight then, wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve never said anything about—”

“You didn’t have to. No one ever has to.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “This is your choice, Evan. I was perfectly fine without talking to you.”
The memories I have from when we were younger are better, anyway.
“You wanted another chance, and I gave it to you. You’re not doing such a great job with it so far.”

“I don’t know how to act with you. You’re not . . . you’re not like the rest of them, and I don’t know what the fuck I should do about it.”

“Take me for what I am, Evan, or leave me alone.”

“I can’t exactly do that though, can I? We have a project—”

“That I told you I could easily get you out of,” I said, interrupting him and running a hand through my hair. “This is your choice, and I’m not doing anything to influence you.”

He was quiet, and I thought that he’d hung up before I heard a muffled curse. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.

“I can’t come over tonight,” he finally said.

“I know. You have a date.”

“Do you listen to
everything
?”

“When she’s standing right there and has a voice like someone is slowly letting helium out of a balloon, it’s kind of hard to miss, Evan.”

He grunted, and I opened my eyes and slid down the wall, wrapping my arm around my upraised knees.

“I have practice tomorrow night until five again, so I’ll come over around quarter of. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

I could practically hear his teeth grinding, and I smiled to myself and played with the hem of my jeans.

“Bye,
Anna
.”

“Bye.”

I carefully set the phone down and stared at it for a few moments, tapping my fingertips against my thighs.

“Everything okay, Anna?” Dad yelled from the living room, his eyes no doubt focused on whatever documentary he was watching.

“Everything’s fine, Dad.” I sighed and stood up, starting back up the stairs. “Everything’s just peachy.”