Keeper(24)

“How do you keep doing that?” I demanded.

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Popping up out of nowhere.” I waved my hand as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And always when I’m at my worst.” Ty chuckled and moved to sit across from me, ignoring my question. He pulled a brown paper sack from his backpack and handed me something wrapped in plastic wrap.

“A sandwich?”

“It might not be the answer to your problems,” Ty said, unwrapping his own sandwich. “But I personally believe that life is a whole lot more manageable on a full stomach.” He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded at me as if he were the authority on such matters.

I looked down at the sandwich in my hand. It was peanut butter and grape jelly—my favorite. My stomach rumbled at the sight of it.

I rolled my eyes, feeling ridiculous, and took a bite. It was actually quite satisfying, and I took another bite without any hesitation.

“You wanna talk about it?”

I swallowed. “Not really.”

Ty nodded and took another bite, chewing slowly.

We sat there without speaking, both of us focusing on our food.

Maybe it was because he didn’t push me, didn’t ask me questions I couldn’t answer, but as I sat there, the tension in my shoulders eased, and with each bite of the sandwich, the lump in my throat slowly dissolved. There were no expectations to meet, no obstacles to overcome. It was just easy. Sitting next to Ty, eating PB&J was the most normal thing I’d done in a while.

The calm was unfortunately short-lived, however. Something tugged at me; the last remnants of the handprint on my arm—now almost completely faded—tingled. I looked up, nearly choking on my next bite of sandwich. Josephine stood a few feet away. She stared at me as usual, but it wasn’t the normal look of intensity I’d become accustomed to. It was something much deeper. It took me a minute to place it, but when I did, it nearly took my breath away. The look on her face was sadness—the kind you feel deep within your soul. It made my chest ache.

Lainey. Josephine reached out a hand to me. Her eyes pleaded with mine. Lainey.

“Hey.” Ty nudged his shoulder against mine.

I tore my eyes away from Josephine’s face.

“You okay?”

I nodded. “Fine. Just a lot on my mind.” When I looked back, Josephine was gone. I sighed and turned my attention back to my sandwich. I have to figure all this out. I just have to.

As I swallowed my last bite, my eyes fell upon the book in Ty’s lap, the one he’d been reading before I showed up. It was a worn paperback, several of the pages loose and sticking out of the top. The cover was half missing, but I knew it well.

“The Great Gatsby?” I asked, pointing at the book.

Ty smiled, somewhat sheepishly, and picked up the book in his hands. “Fitzgerald is a favorite of mine.”

I smiled back. “Mine too.”

Ty had also finished his sandwich and was busy placing our empty plastic wrap back in the brown bag. When he had shoved the trash back into his backpack, he picked up the book and looked at me. He smiled at me, opening to the page he had dog-eared, and then began reading aloud.

I couldn’t help but stare. How was it possible that this mysterious boy who picked fights for fun understood the simple satisfaction of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the peaceful calm that came from reading beautiful prose?

Who are you? I mused, watching as he read.

He was a natural reader, his voice automatically rising and falling with the cadences of Fitzgerald’s style. His face was bright, and I could tell he was enjoying the story as much as I was. What a mystery you are, Tyler Marek. I smiled and lay back on the grass to listen, enjoying the stillness of the moment.

When the bell rang, Ty finished the page he was on and closed the book with a gentle snap. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah, I do.” I sat up, fighting a yawn. I peeked over my shoulder, but Josephine was still nowhere to be seen. I let out the breath I was holding. “Thank you for the sandwich . . . and for reading. It was really nice.”

Ty nodded his head. “You’re welcome.”

I stood up and dusted the grass from my clothes. “Chem for me next. You?”

Ty followed suit. “History.” He looped the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “Can I walk you to class?”

My heart gave a tiny flutter. “Sure.”

We didn’t say anything as we headed toward the building, but there wasn’t any need to. I think we both felt the ease of just walking beside one another.

When we walked through the double doors, I saw Maggie pacing back and forth in front of her locker.

“Styles?” she yelled, waving at me. “Where the hell have you been?”

She stomped over, almost skidding to a stop when she saw who I was standing next to.

Ty chuckled under his breath beside me.

“Ty, this is Maggie,” I said, stifling my own laugh at the wide expression in her eyes. “Maggie, this is Ty.”

Ty stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Maggie.”

Maggie looked slightly shell-shocked, but she recovered and reached out to shake his hand. “You too.”

Ty gave her his signature smile and then turned toward the history hall. “See you guys later.” I waved and watched him go.