Trust(72)

“Are you joking?” I asked. When Anders didn’t answer, I turned to Hang and asked again, “Is he joking?”

Staying right out of it, Hang bit into an apple.

“And anyway, it’s not like that,” I began. “John and I are just—”

“Oh, puh-lease,” said Anders. “He’s my best friend and you’re . . . you. Don’t lie to me.”

Hang winced. “It is pretty obvious that you’re together now.”

“If Edie doesn’t want people up in her business, that’s the way it is.” John checked his watch and then stood, picking his bag up off the floor. “Time for class.”

Anders swore and stomped off after smacking a surprise kiss on Hang’s cheek. The girl barely even bothered to look irritated about his open interest anymore.

“You think I don’t want people knowing?” I asked.

John just shrugged. “Not a big deal.”

Huh.

“History like mine, can’t really blame you,” he said, heading for the door.

“What?”

“Have a think about Saturday night and let me know what you’re up for.”

“John—”

He kept walking. “We’re getting the grade on the paper today, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” I wandered along after him, Hang following close behind. Right on time, the bell rang out, getting everyone moving.

“Is John mad about something?” asked Hang.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s just, he’s usually next to you, you know,” she said.

I watched his back disappear among the sudden crowd in the hall. “He thinks I don’t want us public because of his history.”

“And?”

A sudden headache bloomed behind my eyes. I rubbed at my temple, lost, confused, and quite possibly certifiably stupid. “I thought he wanted to keep it on the down low because I’m not one of the cool types or something.”

“I repeat,” said Hang, “he’s usually hovering by your side like you’re his delicate, precious little flower who might need protection from the big, bad world at any moment. Or like you might need his help smashing the patriarchy or something. I think when it comes to you, he’s pretty much up for anything.”

My jaw hung open.

“Does that sound like someone trying to hide the fact you’re his girlfriend?”

“Really, he does that?”

She nodded.

Shit. “I’m an idiot.”

“We all are sometimes.”

Without further thought, I pushed through the crowd, running after him as much as I could. A couple of people swore at me, but never mind. This was urgent. Once he came into sight, I grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him to a halt. People swarmed around us like a mildly pissed-off, inconvenienced, and sweaty horde.

John just gave me a questioning look. Not a happy one.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Later.”

Shit. Usually, my emotions were the mess. It had never occurred to me that John might have his own insecurities—at least, not about me. I truly was an idiot, one who needed to pay more attention.

We shuffled into class along with everyone else, taking our usual seats. Mrs. Ryder immediately started giving back the essays on Edgar Allan Poe.

“Much improved,” she said, handing mine over.

“Thank you.” A-minus. Awesome. A flicker of pride pulled me up straighter in my chair. I’d forgotten what this could feel like. I turned in my seat to show John, the person responsible for getting me to study and actually give a damn again. This was on him.

“. . . we’ll discuss this after class,” Mrs. Ryder was saying, shaking the paper in front of his face. “Understood?”

“You think I didn’t write this?” asked John, the momentary surprise on his face quickly tightening into anger. “You think I got someone else to do it or something. Because the work’s good for a change.”

Her mouth skewed.

“I read the book and then I wrote the paper.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, mystified.

Mrs. Ryder’s gaze cut to me, her eyes hard and probing.

“What? You seriously think he didn’t do it?” I asked. “That’s crazy. We study together, but he does his own work.”

“You study together,” she repeated, as if that answered everything.

I’d never wanted to kick a teacher so badly in my life. “People aren’t allowed to decide to try and do better at school?”

“Edie . . .” muttered John. “It’s all right.”

“Do not take that tone with me, young lady.” Mrs. Ryder towered over me.

Having to look up at her only pissed me off more. “You’re supposed to encourage people to learn.”

“We’ll discuss this after class, Mr. Cole.” She dropped the paper onto his desk, condemning him with barely a glance.

“You’re denying him the opportunity of an education,” I said, jaw rigid.

Her hand cut through the air. “That’s enough. Get out your books.”

I went nuclear, heat rushing to my face. “Oh, you can go fu—”