If I Was Your Girl(64)

I continued down the hall with my head held high. A few classmates looked away when I passed, but the rest nodded in my direction or waved. As I rounded the corner toward homeroom, I stopped short. A dozen students were milling outside the locked classroom door, waiting for the teacher to arrive, and my eyes were immediately drawn to Grant’s broad back. My mouth tugged in a smile at the sight of him, but then he turned around, and my brain caught up.

The crowd parted for him easily, all eyes on us. He looked around and registered how many people were staring. “Can we go somewhere else?”

I nodded and together we walked down the hall and into the empty cafeteria.

When the doors closed behind us he looked up. His eyes were shining, his gaze unreadable.

“Hey,” he said again.

“Hey.” I looked down. “How are you?”

“I got news,” he said, squinting and rubbing the back of his neck, looking away again. “I won the Hope Scholarship to go down to Chatt State.”

“Congratulations!” I said, meaning it. “I’m really happy for you.” Our eyes met again for a moment and words passed silently between us. I love you and I need you. I’m sorry and forgive me.

“Sorry about my dad,” I said finally.

“Ah,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose where the blow had hit. “He’s got a mean right hook for an old guy.”

I looked away, but couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

“I understand though,” Grant said. I returned my eyes to him. He was leaning against the wall, looking up at the lights, picking nervously at his thumbnail. “What Parker did … your dad thought it was me.” I nodded. “It’s not exactly the same, but if anybody hurt Avery or Harper…” He clenched his fists. His eyes were wide when they met mine again, and there was too much behind them to decipher. “I’d probably do more than punch ’em.”

“I’m glad you understand,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm but stopping myself. He noticed the movement and sighed.

The bell rang, but neither of us moved.

“You didn’t call,” I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.

“Neither did you,” Grant said softly before giving me a rueful smile.

“I guess not,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “I assumed you were done with me.” I looked up, taking in his long-lashed dark eyes and boyish, open face. I thought about the first time we kissed, the feeling of weightlessness at the lake, driving in his truck, all the moments we had shared, and the memories he had given me. They were the realest, truest moments of my life, and yet to him, they now probably felt like lies. “Honestly, I would have understood if you were done with me.”

“Yeah?”

“I never wanted you to find out that way,” I told him. “I’m sorry if I … embarrassed you.” For a second I found the old shame creeping up, threatening to pull me back under.

“More embarrassing for you,” he said. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

“I told you I loved you at the dance,” I said. “I didn’t know if you heard me.”

He shook his head. My heart throbbed.

“I didn’t abandon Tommy,” he said, his expression serious, “and I won’t abandon you.”

I exhaled a breath. “That’s sweet, but what does that mean?” I shook my head. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“You do?” I said, taken aback.

“I’ve shared more of myself with you than anybody else,” he said. “And, even if I burned the note, you shared everything with me. Whatever we are…”

“‘Whatever we are’?” I said, my throat clenching up. “So we’re not…?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I tried to look stuff up while you were gone, but I don’t have a computer, and it turns out when you do a search for ‘transsexual’ on the library computers—let’s just say I ain’t allowed in the library for a while.” He rubbed his arm and opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know if I can understand, and even if I can understand I just don’t know…” He trailed off. His shoulders sagged. “I don’t know, Amanda. I just … I just wish you were a girl.” His eyes widened as the words came out. “I mean, I wish you were never … I wish you were always…”

“No,” I said, the strength in my voice surprising me, that one word so clear in the empty space. He sniffed and shifted his weight. “I was always a girl, always,” I said, my eyes burning. “See you around, Grant.” I turned and started to walk away but he grabbed my shoulder.

“I wanna try,” he said. He took his hand away and I turned back. “I think I need to hear it from you, though.”

I heard the kids down the hall shuffling into homeroom. I stayed where I was. “I still have the letter I wrote you,” I said slowly. “I could print it again.”

“No,” he said. “I’d like you to tell me face-to-face.”

“Okay,” I said after a moment. “How about tonight?”

*

Grant’s car motor was the only sound cutting the peaceful silence of the lake. I turned and watched him get out, my heart hammering at my chest. In the soft light at the end of the day, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. His shaggy black hair rippled in the soft, cold breeze, and his dark eyes practically twinkled when they caught mine. He was wearing a faded old hoodie, jeans, and work boots, but even through his clothes I could tell how strong and graceful he was when he walked.