Go Your Own Way (8 page)

“I’ve set up groups today,” Mrs. Andruis said as Will stepped into Creative Writing class. “Names are at each group of desks. Find your name and take a seat.”

Will did, and he was less than thrilled to see who he was work­ing with: He saw Natasha and Roxanne and read the name Ches­ter on the last labeled desk. Natasha was on his case at once. So far, he’d managed to avoid his friends since this morning, but he was stuck with Natasha for the rest of the day.

“What’s with the scarf?” Roxanne asked as she fanned herself. “It’s ninety degrees outside.”

Will adjusted his bandanna scarf and said nothing. As soon as he’d left the bathroom he’d rushed to his locker to grab the scarf he kept there.

“It was hotter than that in the boys’ room earlier,” Natasha said with a teasing grin. Will tried to kick her shin and slammed his toes into the desk leg. He winced as her smile widened. If Rox­anne found out anything, the entire school would know before the day ended. “Wasn’t it, Will? Lennox was dripping with sweat when he came out.”

“What’s that mean?” Roxanne asked as Chester joined their group. He took one look at them and turned around to talk to someone else. “Lennox is interested in you, you know. He’s in my gym class.”

Natasha laughed. Will glowered at each of them and then at his desk.

“What? Did I miss something? Oh, please, tell me,” Roxanne said as she grabbed Will’s arm. “Did he ask you out? Are you dating? Why haven’t you texted me and told me everything? You swore you would.”

“I did not.” Will yanked his arm free and pushed his seat toward Chester. Chester glanced at him and moved away toward Nata­sha, who rolled her eyes. Most boys in this school thought one touch from him would contaminate them, or that he was dive-bombing them for a kiss. It was ridiculous. “I’m not texting you. Get over it already.”

“But—”

The bell rang, and Roxanne shut up. Mrs. Andruis explained their new mock-newspaper assignment and their perma­nent group arrangements. Will was sick of those words. First, he was paired with Lennox for English, and now he was stuck with Roxanne and Natasha, who were pestering him about that idiot. He flushed a little at the thought of Lennox’s name as the other stu­dents silently read the assignment packet.

Yesterday had been… something. He couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t look at a chalkboard without blushing either. His first kiss, but it had been with a complete jerk. Still, his body thrilled at the memory and at the feeling of Lennox’s fingertips burning into his skin only two hours ago. Another person shouldn’t be able to make him feel like that: to put knots in his stomach and a leap in his throat, a fluttering in his chest that made him have to consciously focus on breathing. No boy had ever made him feel like that. Not even the straight boys he’d crushed on in middle school.

But no boy had ever wanted to kiss him, either.

“So what happened?” Natasha asked. The other groups around them were finished with the silent reading and beginning to brainstorm. “I
know
that scarf means you have a pretty hickey on your neck.”

“Maybe I just wanted to keep my neck warm.”

“Nuh-uh. Details,
now
.”

“A
hickey
?” Roxanne said. “Oh my god, tell us everything!”

Roxanne latched onto Natasha and beamed. It was unnerving to see the two of them getting along, and all because they were determined to ruin his life.

“There isn’t much to tell,” Will said.

“Oh, no. You aren’t playing that game with me, William Elliot Osborne.”

“It’s the truth!”

“Not the way Lennox tells it,” Natasha said.

“And you’re going to believe him over
me
?”

“About this? Probably.” Natasha smiled at him and flipped to the worksheet in their packet. “We’re doing the first article for the food section. I bet Lennox would have a few suggestions.”

“Yeah, and I bet every single one has dick as an ingredient.”

Natasha made a rude gesture at him. For the rest of class, both of the girls ignored him. Every time Will tried to make a suggestion, Natasha knocked his arm off his desk and Roxanne kicked him in the shin. Chester fell asleep sitting up and Will wished he had a handy cliff to throw all of them over.

“All right,” he said. “We kissed, okay?”

Those words were what they’d been waiting for. Roxanne shrieked. Natasha bounced about in her chair and scattered their packets everywhere. Mrs. Andruis hurried over to tell them off, and Will was grateful. Now, he didn’t have to bother explaining. Not until the lunch bell, anyway, when the girls took him by the arms and marched him down the hallway.

“What was it like?” Roxanne asked.

“Does he kiss as well as I think he does?” Natasha said.

“Did he use tongue?”

Will groaned and tried to pull himself free. Instead, he found himself being dragged sideways into the pizza line as Natasha shook him until his head hurt. Roxanne grabbed three trays and set them on the tray railing along the counter. Natasha shouldered Will toward the first station

“I don’t want pizza.”

The cafeteria lady served Will a slice of pizza and Roxanne shoved his tray into his chest.

“It was… kissing. I don’t know. What does it matter if he was good or used tongue?” Will said. “It’s not happening again. He’s vile and I’m… I’m waiting for someone better.”

They paid for lunch, and the girls dragged Will to a far corner and shoved him onto the bench for further interrogation.

“How could you not at least give this a chance?” Roxanne demanded.

“Do you not listen to half of the things that come out of his mouth? I want romance. I want first dates and being walked to my door and to look into someone’s eyes and trust them. That’s not going to happen with Lennox.”

Natasha huffed and flipped her braid into his face. “Says who? Sure, he’s rough. He’s obnoxious and vulgar , but he’s really cute and he’s not in the closet. Everyone has sucky qualities. But you
do
like him. I mean, it’s your call, but maybe he doesn’t just want to get nasty and naked with you.”

“Or maybe he does,” Roxanne said. Will ignored her and opened his milk carton.

The girls left him alone about Lennox after that. In chemistry class, Lennox was present, but he kept to himself instead of pes­tering Will. He didn’t even make eye contact. It bugged Will a lot. Sure, he’d asked Lennox to leave him alone, but still. Lennox didn’t listen to anyone, yet he was leaving him alone as he’d asked.

Lennox spent class with two giggly cheerleaders, and then stayed after the final bell at Ms. Mentore’s request. Will could guess what that was about. Last class, Lennox had walked out, and Ms. Mentore was probably handing him a few more detentions to add to his growing pile.

Will didn’t linger. He sped off to the band room for his own detention and started on Mr. Robinette’s list for today. Lennox arrived late, but neither of them talked, despite the many glances Will shot him. By half past four, they’d finished marking off the floor with tape, organized the sheet music by instrument and difficulty level and made the linoleum gleam from a fresh mopping.

Will stalled his truck three times on the drive home. He shifted into the wrong gear, missed the clutch twice and almost ran a stop sign.

Why wasn’t Lennox talking to him anymore? Or trying to kiss him or flirt with him? It was weird, and Will didn’t like it. Lennox had constantly been after him and now… now he was indifferent. It was as if he’d gotten what he’d wanted and had no use for Will anymore.

It shouldn’t bother him. He should be glad that Lennox was finally leaving him alone. That was what he’d been wanting since they’d met. And yet…

“You look like you’re ready to slap someone,” Karen said when he entered the kitchen through the garage.

Will flung his backpack onto the table. “I don’t want to talk about
him
.”

Karen poured a cup of grape juice and passed it over the counter. “You sure? Sometimes talking helps.”

Will gulped down half his juice and took a deep breath. He did want to talk about Lennox, but he also wanted to ignore everything about him. The same way Lennox was suddenly ignor­ing him. It
shouldn’t
annoy him. He should be thrilled.

“Boys are stupid,” Will said out loud.

Karen laughed and sat down at the table with a sandwich. Her hair was messier than usual and her scrubs looked wrinkled. She had brown hair and smile lines around her brown eyes. That was one of the first ways he’d described Karen to his friends when his dad and she had started dating. Brown. Very brown. Her car had been brown. Most of her pants and shorts were brown. Her shoes were brown. The apartment she’d lived in had been exceptionally brown, too.

“Like, really stupid,” Will continued. “With their stupid hair and stupid smiles and stupid, beautiful eyes and lips. Why can’t I just like girls so I don’t have to deal with people with pretty smiles?”

“Are you saying I don’t have a pretty smile?” Karen said. She laughed again as Will flopped down beside her. “I’m kidding.” She took a bite of her sandwich and looked him over, then moved his scarf to eye his neck. “Ben wasn’t lying about that hickey. Looks like a good time.”

Will huffed. “And space doesn’t look deadly. Doesn’t mean I’m going to take a trip to the moon.”

“What’s his name?”

Will growled in the back of his throat. “Lennox. Lennox I’m-a-jackass McAvoy.”

“Well, I hope he’s got a smart mouth, too, or he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Of course he does. He spent half the day calling me ‘baby.’ Nobody else in that school can be bothered with bantering, but oh, no.
Lennox
can,” Will muttered as he took another sip of juice. “I’m going to run him over with my truck and make it look like an accident.”

Karen only smiled and ate another bite of her sandwich. Will watched a thick slice of tomato slip out and retreat to the safety of her plate. “You like him?”

Will took another sip of juice. “No. Yes. I don’t know. He’s just—and his lips were—I’ve got a bruise on my
butt
from that chalkboard tray and I hate him.”

“A bruise on your—I don’t remember chalkboards being involved in kissing,” Karen said. She looked him over again, and Will flushed a little.

Nobody knew what had happened except Lennox and him. He preferred it that way. The less his classmates heard, the less they would gossip. But Karen was okay. The only people she could tell were her coworkers at the hospital.

“It’s okay to like how he makes you feel, honey. To like him in that way, even if not in others. You can’t really control that.”

“I just wish he wasn’t… well, how he is. If that makes sense.” Will shrugged and finished his juice. “He’s only trouble. I’m not kissing him again.”

Karen nodded as if she didn’t believe him. “Well, just be safe, whatever happens. And you can always call me if you need any­thing, okay?”

“I know.”

He appreciated it, too, despite how strange it sometimes was to have her and his dad to go to. Will trusted his dad and Karen with a lot, unlike most of his friends, who trusted their parents with very little.

Only last year, he’d called Karen at two in the morning when he’d been stranded at a baseball victory party because his ride got drunk. A respect existed between all three of them that his friends thought was weird, but Will was glad to have it and them, too.

“Thanks.” Will set his cup in the sink before he voiced some­thing that had been bothering him since Tuesday. “I always thought the first boy that—well, that liked me back would be nicer.”

“Is he really that bad?”

“He struts around with an ankle monitor,” Will said. Karen blanched. “And no, I don’t know why he’s got it, but it can’t be for any good reason.”

“Right. Did you tell your dad that?”

Will gave her a look.

“Good choice. I don’t like judging people I don’t know, but I also fully support you staying away from this boy,” Karen said. “I’m going to go shower and change out of my scrubs. Let Oyster in before you go downstairs.”

Karen headed out of the kitchen and down the hall. Will grabbed his backpack and opened the back door. Oyster came bounding in with his favorite stick and a thumping tail. Will used the towel by the back door to clean the mud and dirt off the dog’s paws and white fur. He wasn’t the easiest dog to keep clean, but now that he was getting older, at least he spent less time rolling in mud puddles. No amount of mud he got into now would ever beat the mess he’d been the day Will and Ben met him.

Every year, the two of them took a trip across the state to the Chesa­peake Bay to buy fresh seafood. That year, Will had been nine and fresh from his last day of third grade. Rain had thundered on the roof of the car, and Ben’s hands had clenched the steering wheel as they trudged down the highway. Will’s Game Boy was dead, he couldn’t see anything but rain and he was getting very bored.

“Daddy, aren’t we there yet?” Will sighed and kicked at the passenger seat. He twisted in his seat and fiddled with the seat belt.

“Another hour, Will. I told you I’ve gotta drive slower because—whoa!”

Their truck swerved, Will shouted and Ben stomped on the brakes until the truck stopped. Will unbuckled, clambered up to the front seat and peered out the windshield through the fast whipping of the wipers.

“You hit a baby bear!”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did! He’s limping.”

Before Ben could stop him, Will hurried out and rushed over to the brown figure. Only it wasn’t a bear. It was part box and part muddy dog. A little puppy whimpered at him; his paws covered his eyes. Will peered into the box with his chest tight. How could some awful person leave a puppy on the side of the road? What if somebody had run him over or he’d been eaten by a monster in the woods?

“Come here, puppy,” Will said as the puppy moved his paws from his eyes and crawled toward him. “We’re gonna take you to get yummy oysters and then you can sleep with me in my big race car bed!”

Will’s dad ran up behind him.

“Will, how many times do I have to tell you not to run into the road?”