A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(82)

My stomach roils at that thought. God, I think I’m going to be sick.

He taps me on the shoulder and I turn, my gaze meeting his, and he must see the worry on my face, though he chooses to ignore it. His expression is deadly serious. “Can I borrow a piece of paper?”

Frowning, I say, “Sure?”

“I forgot my bag in my room,” he explains. “I don’t even have my book.”

“Do you want to borrow my copy?” I offer, wishing I could smack myself.

I need to stop being so nice to him. He might not deserve it.

“Yeah. Please.”

“Wren. Crew.” Figueroa’s expression is stern. He’s being extra strict this morning, though I’m sure a lot of that has to do with me and how I just confronted him. I sent a quick text to Maggie earlier asking where she was, and she still hasn’t answered me.

I’m worried.

“I forgot my stuff. She’s helping me out,” Crew says to Fig.

I hand Crew a few sheets of paper, a pencil and my copy of The Great Gatsby, his fingers brushing mine during the exchange, making me shiver. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“You’re welcome.” I turn around, taking a deep breath, feeling stupid. I remember everything that happened between us last night. Every single thing, and I don’t want to regret it.

But something is telling me I could. Maybe things aren’t what they seem between us. What if he’s been using me the entire time? If Crew didn’t mean any of things he said or did these last couple of weeks…

I’m going to die of humiliation. I will never want to face him again.

He’s quiet for the rest of class, which is only around fifteen minutes since he arrived so late. By the time the bell rings, he’s bolting out of his seat, dropping the book on top of my desk, a folded piece of paper in it, the edges just showing. I glance up at him in question.

“Meet me at lunch, out back where you caught me and the guys. You know the spot?” He lifts his brows.

I nod slowly. “Okay.”

He taps the book with the pencil I gave him. “Read what’s in there.”

I nod again. I assume he’s referring to the note.

His gaze locked on my mouth, he murmurs, “Bye, Birdy.”

He’s gone in a flash and I gather up my things, shoving everything in my backpack and am about to leave the classroom when Fig speaks up.

“You know you should avoid him. He’s only going to break your heart.”

I send him a look. “Is that a warning?”

“Just want you to be safe, Wren. And that boy is definitely not safe. He’s already toying with your heart and Natalie’s.”

I hate that he brought her up. He’s believing the rumors just like everyone else.

“Is that what you want?” he asks when I still haven’t said anything. “To share him with someone else?”

His words, his assumption that I want his opinion about my personal life, is infuriating. The man crosses boundaries all the time, as if he has the right.

“You know what you should do?” I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

Fig frowns. “What?”

“Mind your own damn business.”

I flounce out of there before he can say anything else, shock coursing through me at the way I just told off a teacher. How I actually cursed at him. I never do that.

I never say bad words. It’s like I spend a little time with Crew and I’m changing. Becoming stronger. Finding my voice.

I think I like it.

I race to my second period class, falling into my chair in record time, my hands shaking as I pull the paperback out of my backpack and crack it open to find the folded note inside. With trembling fingers, I open it, my gaze trying to decipher his bold, messy writing.



Don’t let anyone read this. Last night after you went inside, I saw Figueroa drop off Natalie in the parking lot. I confronted her about it and she got mad. Tried to attack me. That’s what happened when we were caught. I wasn’t hooking up with her. She’s hooking up with Fig. Don’t believe the rumors. I’ll tell you more at lunch. Please believe me.



PS – I can’t stop thinking about you and that Blow Pop.



A tiny smile curls my lips and I shove the note back between the pages of The Great Gatsby, then put the book away in my backpack.

I believe him. I have to. There’s no way he could do everything that he did with me, and then get with Natalie immediately afterward. I just—I can’t even wrap my head around it.

It’s like my brain won’t let me.

I pass through the rest of the morning in a haze. Always searching for Maggie—she still hasn’t texted me back—or trying to tune out the rumors about Crew and Natalie. They’re rampant.

It’s all anyone can talk about.

By the time lunch rolls around, I’m an internal mess, trying to keep it together. Still no Maggie to be found. I’m supposed to meet Crew and I’m scared to hear what he has to say, but there’s no way I’m not meeting with him.

I have to see him. I need reassurance.

As I’m leaving my fifth period class, I spot Natalie in the hall, our gazes locking for the briefest moment, hers knowing. That devilish smile on her face, as if she’s aware she’s messed up my world and there’s no coming back from it.