By Your Side(45)

“Tell me something happy,” I said, turning to face him.

“Did you mistake me for someone else?”

That sentence alone lightened my mood. “I’ve had a crappy morning.”

“But it’s only seven thirty.”

“I know.”

He moved a planter box and sat down on the table. “What happened?”

“Stupid stuff. I don’t want to talk about it. I need to get my mind off it.”

He pointed at himself. “With your distraction?”

“Exactly.”

He smiled and leaned back on his palms. When he was like this, unguarded and open, he was so cute. Okay, even when he was intense and closed off he was cute.

“What?” he asked.

I realized I was smiling too. “I want to take out my camera.” My hand clutched the strap of my camera bag.

“Why?”

“Because you are very photographable.” Dax surrounded by dead plants, the sun shining muted through the fogged up window behind him.

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s true.”

“Not sure I should be flattered when I saw you taking a picture of a spider a few weeks ago.”

“How do you know what I was taking pictures of a few weeks ago?”

“I walked right by you. Your vision is limited behind that camera.”

I hadn’t seen him at all. My vision was limited behind the camera, focused, uncluttered. That was one of the reasons I liked it. “It wasn’t a spider. It was its web. It was frozen. And amazing. I’ll have to show you how those turned out one of these days.” I stopped. “Like, any day. You should come over to my house. My parents would probably love it.”

“Your parents . . . they sent me a letter.”

I laughed. I had forgotten about that letter. “They did. You’re their hero.”

“I thought I was yours.”

I laughed again. “Yes. You are.”

“You sound almost as sarcastic as I imagined you sounded when I read it.”

“I was mad at you when I wrote it.”

He seemed amused by this thought. “Why?”

“You didn’t want to see me.”

“You like to assume.”

My heart did a somersault and I scolded it for that reaction. We’d established a rule. He didn’t want an attachment and neither did I.

The bell rang, sounding through the campus. I looked up but then back at him, not moving.

“So, anyway, you need to drive over to my house and . . . Wait, can you drive?” I asked suddenly.

“I drove my mom’s car from the end of the street to the driveway when I was thirteen.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“I hit two mailboxes.”

“Or not. So that’s why you didn’t want to borrow my car.”

He smiled. “That is one of many reasons.”

“I’m going to teach you how to drive it. You would love the freedom it gives you.” I felt bad that nobody in his life had ever taught him how to drive, and looking forward, I couldn’t see that changing. It was a life skill he needed if he wanted to be as free as he claimed he did.

He was still sitting, leaning back on his palms. “That does not sound like one of your better ideas.”

“It is an excellent idea.”

He brushed some dirt off his palms. “Don’t you have to go?”

“Don’t you have to go?”

“I could stay here all day,” he said.

“I could too,” I countered.

His smile took over his face. “Really?”

“Oh you think you know me so well now, huh? You think being late to class would bother me?”

“Yes. You’d hate to make your teacher mad at you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but then said, “You’re right. I have to go.” I rushed toward the door, but when I was almost there, I circled back around and threw my arms around him. “You did your job perfectly. Thank you.”

He chuckled and put his arms around me. Since he was up on the table, my head fit just below his chin. I closed my eyes and sighed. I went to pull away but he held on. At first I thought maybe he needed a longer hug but when his body shook with silent laughter I knew he was doing it to bug me.

“The late bell is going to ring,” I said.

“I know.”

“Let me go, brat.”

He did and I ran out the door, throwing him a smile over my shoulder as I did. He still hadn’t moved to leave, but a lazy smile was on his face.

Just a distraction, I reminded myself as I ran to class.





CHAPTER 30


I had tried to justify going home at lunch so I didn’t have to face my friends, but that would only make Dallin’s statement about me seem true. I clutched my brown lunch sack in my fist and stepped into the cafeteria. The wall of noise hit me first, then the competing food smells—today it was mostly spaghetti and garlic. I kept my focus and headed for our table.

Lisa smiled and slid down the bench to make room for me. It wasn’t until I was seated and took in all the other smiling, talking faces that I realized Dallin wasn’t there. A scan of the room didn’t locate him either.