Keeper(15)

“Like I said, you don’t have to explain anything to me, Styles.” Maggie smiled as she pulled the car into the student parking lot. “Our friendship is a no-judgment zone. Besides, if the hot boy takes your mind off all the other crap, then I’m all for it.” She drove down the aisles of the parking lot, looking for a space. “Hell, he could’ve been a figment of your imagination for all I know, but at least the thought of him is keeping you from freaking out.”

I coughed, nearly choking on spittle. “Uh . . . well, I can definitely vouch for the fact that he was real enough.”

Maggie looked over at me quizzically.

In the penultimate spot in the long row of parked cars, clashing violently with the familiar hand-me-down cars and a bunch of rusty trucks, was a shiny black car. It wasn’t a fancy model or anything, but it was easily the newest and nicest vehicle in the lot, and more than one person stopped to check it out on the way into the building. But it wasn’t the car that made my mouth drop open in shock. It was the guy leaning up against it.

“Because he’s standing right over there.” I cocked my head in his direction.

He was standing there in a pair of loose blue jeans and a long-sleeved black Henley. He was facing the building and wearing a pair of sunglasses, but it was undoubtedly him.

Maggie began to slow the car down, seeing an empty parking spot adjacent to the black car.

“Maggie! What are you doing?” I shrieked, ducking down in my seat.

“I’m parking! Don’t you want to talk to him?”

“NO! Keep going!”

“Are you serious, right now? I never get a space this close to the building!”

“YES!”

Maggie stifled a giggle, but gave the Beetle a little bit of gas and headed toward the opposite side of the lot. “Of course, you realize you owe me huge best friend points for letting go of such a primo space so you can duck and cover from the guy you won’t admit you’re swooning over.”

I ignored her, covering my face with my hands. “What is he doing here?”

“Well,” Maggie said, still trying not to laugh, “you could ask him. But that would require actual face-to-face communication, and clearly you’re not up for that.”

I turned and glared at her. “Just tell me if you can still see him.”

Maggie craned her neck toward the window looking back in the direction of the black car. “No, I don’t see him anymore. The bell’s about to ring though. Maybe he’s already inside.”

Thank God for small miracles. “Good.”

“So, are you gonna explain what this sudden shyness is about? I mean, I thought you’d be kinda excited to see him again.”

“I am. I mean, I think I am. I just . . . I don’t know. I just don’t have time to deal with this right now.

Maggie chuckled. “Don’t you at least want to talk to him?”

I thought of our previous encounters, and the heat from my ears spread to my neck and cheeks. I shook my head. “No,” I said, pulling my backpack from the backseat. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

We headed inside, making our way through the packed hallways. I was fully prepared to dive into the nearest doorway if I had to, but thankfully there was no sign of Ty.

At my locker, I crammed my books inside at warp speed. All I could think about was hightailing it to English class without being seen. I slammed the locker door shut, the metal clanging loudly, and hurried down the hall toward my classroom.

I ran around the corner and sighed with relief when the class door came into view. Just a few more steps and I would be home free.

But my feeling of relief popped like a bubble when the familiar tenor of two little words broke through my thoughts.

“Nice jacket.”

I let out a squeal and spun around like a ninja, my arms up and ready for attack.

“Easy there, Karate Kid.” Ty was leaning against a row of lockers, his arms folded across his chest, the corner of his mouth slanted up in amusement.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Heading to English. Same as you.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. What are you doing here? At my school.”

“Well, according to this,” Ty said, pulling a crumpled schedule from his back pocket, “it’s our school.”

“You go here?”

“Well,” Ty said, pushing off from the wall, “my parole officer thought it would be a good idea for me to get a little education. Makes me look better to the judge.”

I sucked in a breath of air—a little too quickly, in fact, which resulted in a small fit of coughing and sputtering. Parole officer?

“You all right?”

I waved my hand in dismissal as one last cough shook my shoulders. “Yeah,” I managed, my voice strained. “Allergies.” I stood up a little straighter and tried to play it cool, though I was secretly hoping a freak sinkhole would suddenly open up and swallow me whole.

“Right.” Ty watched me for a moment, a full grin of amusement on his face, before finally leaning forward. “You know I was kidding, right?” He smirked. “I haven’t talked to my parole officer in months.”

“Oh,” I shrugged. “Of course. Right.”

Ty chuckled again. “Look, it’s pretty basic. I’m eighteen years old. If I want to graduate, I kinda have to attend this little establishment.”