She's So Dead to Us (22 page)

“Who’re they from?” Annie asked as Quinn moved on.

I flipped over the white slip on the bouquet. It had been decorated by the cheerleaders with glittering heart stickers, but the message was simple and written in careful letters.

Next to the signature was a small drawing of a sword and shield.

My knight in shining armor. I almost laughed out loud. Unbelievable. Jake had sent me Valentine’s Day flowers. What did this mean? Did he like me? Was he going to ask me out? Or was he just trying to do something nice for me? Every day since detention ended, I had missed being with him. Maybe this was his way of telling me he missed me, too. That he wanted us to talk or something.

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t all bad.

“Well?” Annie prodded.

“I don’t know,” I replied, avoiding eye contact. “Pink is secret admirer, remember?”

The tag on the second flower was blank. I had a feeling I knew who it was from, and I suddenly felt unpleasantly warm. Hammond had sent me a secret admirer flower that last Valentine’s Day before I left, even though he and Chloe were already going out. What was wrong with him? Was he just messing with me? Trying to be nostalgic? Or did he actually still like me?

But no. A person who likes you doesn’t help his friends prank you and invite you to parties that aren’t there. They don’t completely avoid talking to you for six months straight and then send you one lame flower. No. He was just messing with me. That had to be it.

Quinn deposited a white flower on Annie’s desk. I could see David’s handwriting on the slip and felt a momentary pang. If we’d never gone out, if we’d stayed just friends, I’d probably be receiving one from him now too. But I’d royally screwed up that one. Even though I understood why he wasn’t speaking to me, it sucked that he wouldn’t let me apologize. I missed him, too. Just in a completely different way than I missed Jake.

“Oh my God,” Annie said, staring at the flower.

“What?”

“Logan didn’t send me a flower,” she said, glancing at Quinn’s retreating back. “For the first time in three years, Logan Pincus did not send me a red flower.”

“But that’s a good thing, right?” I asked.

She slumped back in her chair. “I don’t know.”

I laughed. “Girl, you have some issues. Here. Want this one, too?” I said, tossing the extra pink at her.

“Oh, you have so many that you can give a few away to the pathetic masses?” she joked.

“Fine. Give it back,” I said lightly.

She held the flower to her chest with a pout. “No! It makes me feel loved.”

I laughed as the bell rang and everyone scrambled to their feet. I tried to shove my bouquet into my messenger bag, but there were too many. Instead I was forced to carry them in the crook of my arm like some pageant contestant.

“Well, obviously they’re from Jake,” Annie whispered as we hit the crowded corridor. All around us, people squealed over one another’s flowers, thanking one another and debating who their secret admirers were.

“Uh, no,” I said, even as I blushed.

“Why not? How many other guys have you besotted since you’ve been here?” Annie demanded, sidestepping another quiver-wielding cheerleader.

“Jake is not besotted by me,” I said through my teeth, looking around to make sure neither he nor any of his friends was in earshot. What was I going to do when I saw him? What was he going to do?

“Please. I have the evidence right here in my notes,” Annie said, whipping her sticker-covered notebook out of her bag. “He asks you to dance in front of all his anti-Ally friends, he takes back bad Shannen Moore pranks, he gets arrested for you and lands in detention. Look up
besotted
in the dictionary, my friend, because there will be a droopy-eyed picture of Jake Graydon. And you like him, too. Look! You’re all red!”

“Can we drop this?” I hissed.

I had just spotted Shannen, Faith, Chloe, and Trista up ahead, and Shannen was holding almost as many flowers as I was, but hers were almost all white.

“Wow. Who’re they all from?” Trista asked Shannen as we walked by.

“Pink’s from Trevor. He sends one every year. And I got a white one from all my friends,” she said, lifting them like a shrug. “Except Jake. He doesn’t do flowers.”

Annie and I exchanged a smile, and I could hardly contain my smug glee.

“He does flowers for some people,” Annie sang under her breath. And I cracked up, this bubbly, silly joy gurgling inside of me. Shannen shot us a look, but I was ninety-nine percent sure it was because we were being weird, not because she’d heard Annie.

I rounded the corner, expecting at every moment to see Jake. Should I say hello? Smile? Ignore him? Play it cool? But as I came into the front hall I found myself face to face not with Jake, but David. His eyes widened and his face paled. And then he noticed the flowers.

“Oh,” he said. “Hi.”

It was the first time he’d said anything to me in over a month. My spirits surged with hope.

“Hey, David!”

“Looks like you’re having a good Valentine’s Day,” he said flatly.

“Oh, these? Yeah, they’re probably from some loser freshman or something,” I said, waving the flowers around like a Fourth of July sparkler. “No biggie. How are you?”

“Fine.” He looked away.

“Good!” I replied brightly.

“Yeah, well . . . see ya.” He ducked his head and skirted around me. “Hey, Annie,” he muttered as he passed.

I let out a breath and leaned sideways against the brick wall. My heart couldn’t take this many emotional shifts so early in the morning. “Well. That sucked.”

“Don’t worry,” Annie said. “He’ll be all right.”

“Yeah. But will we ever be friends again?” I asked.

Annie lifted her shoulders. “Probably,” she said. “Unless you start going out with your ‘secret admirer,’” she added, tossing in some air quotes. “Then all bets are off.”

That afternoon there was a pink slip on my desk in Spanish class. For the past two weeks all the juniors had been getting called to the guidance office to talk about college applications. Looked like it was my turn. As I strolled into the office, my heart instantly sank. Hammond Ross was sitting on the couch in the waiting area, slumped back with his legs splayed. He sat up straight the moment he saw me.

“I’m here for Mrs. Porter,” I said to the secretary.

“She’ll be with you in just a sec, hon,” she replied as she typed frantically on her keyboard. “Have a seat.”

I looked over at the couch. If possible, Hammond sat up even straighter, then shifted his bag to the floor to make room for me. Fabtastic. I walked over and dropped down next to him.

“Hey, Al. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said.

“Yeah. You too,” I replied flatly.

“Got any big plans?” he teased.

I blew out a sigh. “No.”

“Looks like you got a lot of flowers there.” He leaned forward as if to see them better, his hands folded between his knees. “I’m impressed a Norm would spring for something like that.”

“How do you know they’re from a Norm?” I snapped.

He laughed. Like anything else was inconceivable. Imagine if he knew they were from his best friend.

“Come on, Al. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I don’t know, Ham. They’re secret admirer flowers,” I said in a condescending tone.

“Huh.” He dropped down against the back of the couch again. “When you get a bunch like that, I guess you don’t notice one more.”

I turned and looked him in the eye for the first time, my heart pounding blood through my veins at an alarming rate. Hammond’s dark blue eyes danced happily, like he was oh so proud of himself.

“So, it was from you.”

He shrugged and looked away. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Have you forgotten that you have a girlfriend?” I said through my teeth, feeling warm and conspicuous and like I wanted to be anywhere but there.

“So?” he said, grinning at me. “Didn’t matter the last time.”

“You are such a pig!” I blurted.

The secretary looked over at us with that expression of impatience that half the faculty wore every day.

“I’m just kidding!” Hammond replied at a half whisper, like I was being so immature. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” I said. “But just so we’re clear, that night was a mistake, okay?”

A slight, embarrassed blush rose up onto his cheeks, and I instantly felt bad for being so blunt.

“Whatever,” he said. He slumped down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, looking like a petulant kindergartner. “I was just trying to be nice. I figured no one would send you flowers, and I didn’t want you to walk around school all day feeling all pathetic.”

“Well, guess what? I did get flowers. So you didn’t have to take pity on me,” I shot back.

Mrs. Porter walked out of her cubicle with another student and sent him on his way. I was out of my seat, clutching my bag and my carnations, before she could even say my name.

“And if you want to be nice to me, how about you stop acting like I don’t exist when you see me in the halls?” I said, looking back at Hammond. “I’d appreciate that a lot more than a flower.”

He shook his head in exasperation, still staring straight ahead, but I could tell by the increased blotchiness of his face that he’d heard what I’d said. Maybe, just maybe, I’d finally gotten through to one of them.

I sat in history class the following afternoon trying desperately to stay awake, my eyes crossing as I retyped Mr. Lewis’s notes from the board and into my laptop. Outside, snow swirled and the wind whistled past the windowpanes. I was just about to let it all lull me to sleep when I saw my phone light up out of the corner of my eye. It was inside my bag but sticking out of the interior pocket just enough for me to see the screen. I glanced at the back of Mr. Lewis’s balding head. He hadn’t turned around in at least fifteen minutes, so enthralled was he with his own musings and getting every word of them down on the board. I snatched the phone into my lap. My heart started to pound, and suddenly I was wide awake. The text was from Jake.

Will any1 notice if I start snoring?

I glanced over my shoulder at him. He smirked and flashed his phone at me under the desk. How had he even gotten my number? I texted quickly, my fingers trembling.

IDK. How loud do u snore?

His response was immediate.

IDK. Sleep over some time and u can tell me.

I laughed out loud and slapped my hand over my mouth. Chloe turned around and shot me a reproachful look, her perfectly pink lips pursed. That was Chloe for you. Captain of the Manners Police. I loved how she didn’t feel the need to acknowledge my existence unless she was silently telling me what to do.

“Something funny about the war of 1812, Miss Ryan?” Mr. Lewis asked.

“No,” I squeaked.

“Good. Then let’s get back to it,” he replied.

My phone lit up again.

Busted!

I smiled and texted back.

Tnx 4 the flowers.

What flowers?

LOL V funny.

I have no idea what ur talking about.

I froze. It wasn’t possible, was it? It had to have been him who sent the secret admirer flowers. He drew the shield and sword. No one else would have—

Gotcha!

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. We texted for the rest of the class period. I found out his birthday was coming up in March. I told him that mine was in May. He confessed that his favorite snack dip was hummus. I told him mine was pineapple salsa. I asked if he really liked Hammond or was just taking pity. He said Hammond was cool when he wasn’t licking his own reflection in the mirror. That earned him another laugh and me another lip-purse from Chloe. Toward the end of the period, Jake sent another text.

Ready 4 big game 2nite?

Valley High is going down! U coming?

Will b there cheering 4 u.

I blushed so hard I thought I might pop.

Cool.

When the bell rang, I tucked my phone away and closed my laptop. My pulse raced as I wondered what to do next. Clearly Jake and I had just taken our relationship, whatever it was, to some new level. Should I go talk to him? Was he going to come talk to me? Maybe just a smile over my shoulder and—

But then Jake walked right by me and over to Chloe and Faith, without so much as a nod. My heart fell. Apparently, the text fest hadn’t changed a thing. But then why had he started it? What was the point? Was he really just that bored? Maybe he spent every class period texting someone, and he’d simply run through his entire address book.