The Space in Between (2 page)

Moving back as she runs a hand over her face, content with what she’s found as she moves down and wipes at her knees before attempting to stand, she stares me down once she’s up. Where I expect her eyes to be filled with anger at basically being driven into the ground, she grins.

“I made it the entire way to school without falling off. That’s a new record!”

Getting to my feet, I see her hand in the air and without even thinking, slap mine into it, high fiving her and matching her grin with one of my own.

I’m pretty sure that I’m dreaming this right now, but until I wake up, I’m gonna run with it.

I’m also going to take a second and admire the view now that she’s undoing the clasp to her helmet and I’m getting a bird’s eye view of the girl that’s actually hidden underneath.

Brown hair that under the helmet appeared short and now, as it falls down her back is proven to be anything but, along with a pair of doe like brown eyes that are glowing due to the smile that seems to light up her entire face.

And don’t even get me started on her body.

Thin, but not unhealthy. Slight curves in the right places, and despite wanting to look anywhere but, a chest that I can’t seem to turn away from.

Tongue back in your mouth, Cayne.
I think, at which point it seems my brain answers back, it’s response at the ready.
Sure, but only when you stop the mini explosion in your chest.

“Okay, seriously. Are you okay?” I shake off my inner turmoil and ask again.

“Never better.”

I don’t believe her, but considering I’m the reason she crashed and burned, I’m not about to argue it. As far as reactions go, I don’t think they make them better than this.

Looking down at her watch, she groans before focusing her attention back on me. “As much fun as this is, I was supposed to meet up with the editor of the paper fifteen minutes ago and the bell’s about to go, so…”

“Yeah, go ahead. I’m sorry if I made you late.”

“You didn’t. You just made things a bit more interesting than they would have been.” With a smile of finality, she turns and begins walking her bike over to the bike rack. When she begins to wrap the blue lock around, I take another chance and call out to her.

“I didn’t catch your name!”

“That was sort of the point!” She calls back laughing. “Takes a lot more than getting knocked on my ass to get my name!”

This girl.
First the high five and now keeping her name under lock and key. Is there anything about her that’s remotely normal?

And why is it that despite the strangeness since I’ve met her, I can’t seem to give up?

“Well, girl who shall not be named, I’m Christian.” I say after moving in close enough for her to hear.

“Middle name?”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing remotely Christian-y about you, that’s why. So…middle name?”

“Michael.”

“Nice to meet you, Mikey.” She laughs, grinning at the exact moment I scowl, hating myself for liking the way my Mom’s nickname for me falls from her lips. “And for the embarrassment of admitting that, I’m Emery. And I’m also the girl that’s gonna be extremely late thanks to this jerk not listening when I called out for him to move, so I’ll see ya later.”

With a skip to her step, she turns and flees up the front steps of the school and despite what she said earlier about the bell about to go, for the second time in as many minutes, I’m frozen in place.

“Emery. Huh.” I say to myself, enjoying the way her name sounds as I say it.

A lot more than I expected to.

Maybe the move here won’t be so bad after all.

I mean, I couldn’t dream up better entertainment than a random girl who high fives strangers when she falls off her bike.

Greenville High, here I come.

Emery

When I wanted the first day of school to mean something, falling off my bike wasn’t what I had in mind.

Damn,
it stings and when he high fived back, it only made it worse.

I’ve probably earned the award for stupidest idea ever after that display. Despite it though, I can’t help the elation I’m feeling now that it’s over and I’m away from him.

Christian.

Obvious new kid, considering by now everyone that’s lived here is used to the hazard I am, both on and off my bike, knowing to steer clear. Hell, half of them move out of the way minutes in advance these days. Maybe those smoke signals I’ve been dying to give off to announce my arrival are finally kicking in.

Who am I kidding?
Nothing that cool ever happens to me.

When I hit the ground there was a pop, and I swore it came from my leg, but by the time he helped me into a sitting position, whatever pain I expected to feel was gone and was replaced with the mortification that comes with doing the stupidest thing possible in front of someone a little too cute for his own good.

I’d seen him before I swerved and despite myself, I wasted too much time focusing on the form moving away from the police cruiser and ate pavement for it.

Shaggy dark brown hair that fell just below his ears, which when I swerved made it impossible to see the blue penetrating eyes that locked on me when he knelt down to help me up. About my height, with an added couple of inches here or there, which was a nice change from the behemoths I usually see in the hall and on the field.

He’s what most would consider average, but for this girl judging by my reaction to him, is anything but.

Which with the electrical like current that spread from my fingers up my arm the second he made contact with my hand, was well worth the residual pain I’m feeling.

Also worth my second scowl of the day as I fly through the door that houses the school paper just in time to see everyone else leaving.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Emery.”

Jordan Meyers.

Editor of the paper, yearbook coordinator and general pain in my ass. I could have been fifteen minutes early and still earned the same scowl. If I wasn’t so passionate about taking pictures, I’d have no qualms telling him right where to shove his attitude.

This is good practice for the real world.
I remind myself as I plaster the world’s fakest smile on my face.

“Sorry. Minor accident on the way in.”

Flicking his hand, as if my reason for being late is too pedestrian for his ears, he motions to the board in front of us, which as I turn and take it in, I see has our assignments for the week listed in alphabetical order of our names.

Mine being the same as last year.

Comprising shots of all the new students.

It’s beyond me why he insists on doing this, the last two years it driving me absolutely nuts having to track everyone down, but I can’t ignore the jolt of jubilation I get realizing I’ve got another collision with the new guy—
Christian
—in my future.

Can’t go wrong with a do over.

“End of the day again or are you letting me have the week?”

“The week, but I’d rather you get it to me before deadline this year.”

“Done. Is that it?”

With a shake of his head, he turns his back to me and I take it as my moment of salvation. I’d rather not spend any more time with Jordan than I have to, and something tells me the feeling is mutual.

Sliding my bag over my shoulder, I head out, stopping once I’m completely free and turning toward the direction of the office, but not before focusing my attention on my bag and the combination lock waiting to get up close and personal with my locker.

Content once I’ve got it in my hands, swinging it around my finger a few times for good measure, I pick up where I left off and start off toward the office to grab my schedule—a second copy since I lost the one that was mailed—and not paying attention, walk straight into what feels like the hardest brick wall ever.

“Really? Again?” the voice chastises himself. “Knocking a girl off her bike was supposed to be the end of this.”

“A sentiment said girl agrees with.”

“You’re kidding me.” He says as the shock of our collision wears off and he realizes exactly who it is he smacked straight into.

“Afraid not, buttercup. Looks like we’re gonna have to strap a bell and hazard sign on you.”

“No kidding.”

Mesmerized as he begins to rock back and forth on his feet, obviously uncomfortable, I make my way around and focus my attention back on the task at hand. No sense making this more embarrassing than it has to be.

“Uh, before you go, you think you can help me with something?”

Turning back, I nod before moving in closer as the paper comes out in front of him.

“This place is a maze. I need to find English with Mr. Baylor, but I’ve walked the entire floor already and can’t seem to find his room.”

Laughing despite myself, remembering the way things were when I started here freshman year and didn’t realize that they numbered the portables outside with actual class numbers, I motion down the hall.

“You can’t find it because it’s not inside.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. It’s in the portables outside.” I offer up, but before he can turn and walk in the direction of the side door that will take him where he needs to be, I remember one very important tidbit about my schedule. “But if you hang back and wait while I grab another copy of my schedule, we can be late together, since I’m pretty sure I’ve nailed him first period too.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

I’m so not used to this. I’ve been going to Greenville for four years and not once in that time have I met someone as polite as Christian. Adults, sure. I mean they do their best to be polite, but the kids, no way.

I should know. Half the time I’m one of them.

“Two minutes tops.”

Heading through the door and slipping around the three or four students that are just like me, I lean over once I’m at the counter and smile at the secretary.

“Ms. Carmichael. A pleasure as always.” Mrs. Dawes drawls sarcastically. “In trouble already?”

“Nope, but if I don’t get a print out of my schedule so I can make it to all my classes, you might be seeing me again real soon.”

Here’s the thing. I’m not a troublemaker. I’m kind of a loner. Sticking to myself, content to have it be just me and my camera or my best friend Johnny, but I forget a lot. I space out, lose things, walk into people—which with the way I’ve done it twice already today with the new guy—really isn’t a surprise, and a lot of the time that lands me here.

Being that way, though, it also makes you late, which is what her trouble question is about. I spend a lot of time in the principal’s office explaining myself so they don’t get my mom involved.

She’s got enough on her plate, having to work long hours to keep us afloat. The last thing I want her doing is coming here and dealing with her scatterbrain daughter. She might be aware of my head always being someplace else, but I don’t need to shove it down her throat.

“Here you go. Now hurry up. Class is starting.”

Grabbing the paper from the cranky woman’s hands, I slip my way past everyone again and make my way out into the hall, half expecting when I do for Christian to have hitched his cart to someone else’s wagon and headed off to class.

Definitely not standing right where I left him and having his eyes soften and his lips raise in a smile the second he sees me.

He really needs to stop doing that.

“Ready?” I ask and he nods, keeping pace with me as I start power walking down the hall toward the exit closest to the portables.

As we step through the door, out of the corner of my eye I see him stop and sliding his hand into his jacket, pulling the same folded up piece of paper from his pocket before catching up to me.

“What are your other classes?”

“Geography after English. Phys. Ed and Music after lunch.”

Looking down at my own schedule, I see that other than Gym class, our schedules are identical.
Fantastic
. With the way we keep meeting up today, I don’t know whether to curse or thank whatever gods put this in motion.

“Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” I admit, forcing what feels like the most uncomfortable laugh ever to escape.

“There are worse things.” He says, his utterance quieter than before, his lips tightening once he’s said it, giving away the fact that the words weren’t meant for me to hear.

In an attempt to change the subject, and maybe chip away at the heat that seems to be rising in my cheeks, I inquire about my second favorite part of school.

Lunch.

“Bag or buy?”

 “Huh?”

“Are you bag lunching it today or did the dude in the cruiser give you money?”

“Uh, bagging it I guess. Why?”

“Just wondered.”

Silence surrounding the rest of the short walk to the portable, I open the door, ready to head in, hoping to end up with a good seat, when he reaches forward and stops me with a brush of his hand against mine.

“Why’d you really ask?”

Faking an exasperated sigh, even though part of me had been hoping he’d ask, I give him the real reason.

“I just figured since we’re already going to be shacking up most of the day, we might as well make it official for lunch too.”

Now I could stick around and wait for his response, but with the door open and the teacher giving the eye to both of us, I do things differently. Stepping away and making my way to the far side of the room, making sure to shrug as I pass Mr. Baylor, I point back to Christian as I do.

Showing the new kid around has got to be a good excuse for being late.

I really don’t want to make my words in the office true and have to go back.

Slipping into my seat and bending over to my bag, putting what looks like all of my attention into bringing out my binder and pencil case, I lift my gaze up just long enough to catch Christian walking to an empty seat in the back, but not before his eyes meet mine and catching the smirk he gives me before his lips part and he mouths his answer.