Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(22)

I look both ways, but I don’t see him. I take a few steps until I get to the edge of the lockers, then round the corner. His back is leaned up against one of them and his knee is bent, his foot propped against the locker behind him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s looking right at me. The baby blue hue of his eyes isn’t even kind enough to mask the anger behind them.

“Are you dating Grayson?”

I roll my eyes and walk to the lockers opposite him and lean against them. I’m really getting tired of his mood swings already, and I just met the guy. “Does it matter?” I’m curious as to how it’s any of his business. He gives me that silent pause that I’ve noticed comes before almost everything he says.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Sometimes you are, too,” I say quickly, not needing near as much time as he does to come up with a response.

“He’s not good for you.”

I let out an exasperated laugh. “And you are?” I ask, throwing his point right back at him. If we were keeping score, I’d say it’s two and zero in my favor.

He drops his arms and turns around to face the lockers, hitting one of them with a flat palm. The sound of skin against metal reverberates in the hallway and straight into my stomach.

“Don’t factor me into this,” he says, turning back around. “I’m talking about Grayson, not me. You shouldn’t be with him. You have no idea what kind of person he is.”

I laugh. Not because he’s funny…but because he’s serious. This guy that I don’t even know is seriously trying to tell me who I should and shouldn’t date? I roll my head back against the locker in a wave of defeat.

“Two days, Holder. I’ve known you all of two days.” I kick off the lockers behind me and walk toward him. “In those two days, I’ve seen five different sides of you, and only one of them has been appealing. The fact that you think you have any right to even voice an opinion about me or my decisions is absurd. It’s ridiculous.”

Holder works his jaw back and forth and stares down at me, arms tightly folded against his chest. He takes a challenging step toward me. His eyes are so hard and cold, I’m beginning to think this is a sixth side of him that I’m seeing. An even angrier, more possessive side.

“I don’t like him. And when I see things like this?” He brings his hand to my face and gently runs his finger underneath the prominent bruise on my eye. “And then see him with his arm around you? Forgive me if I get a little ridiculous.”

His fingertips trailing across my cheekbone have left me breathless. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open and not lean in toward his palm, but I hold fast to my resolve. I’m building up an immunity to this boy. Or…at least I’m attempting to. That’s my new goal, anyway.

I take a step away from him until his hand is no longer touching my face. He curls his fingers up into a fist and drops his hand to his side.

“You think I should stay away from Grayson because you’re afraid he has a temper?” I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes at him. “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

After another few seconds of studying me, he lets out a short sigh with a barely noticeable roll of the eyes. He looks away and shakes his head, grabbing at the back of his neck. He stays in this position, facing opposite me for several seconds. When he slowly turns around, he doesn’t look me in the eyes. He folds his arms across his chest once again and looks down at the floor.

“Did he hit you,” he says without any inflection in his voice. He keeps his head trained to the floor, but looks up at me through his eyelashes. “Has he ever hit you?”

Here he goes again, inducing me into submission by a simple switch in demeanor. “No,” I say, quietly. “And no. I told you…it was an accident.”

We stare at each other in complete silence until the bell for second lunch rings and the hallway fills with students. I’m the first to break my gaze. I walk back to the cafeteria without looking back at him.





I’ve been running for almost three years. I don’t remember what started it or what made it so enjoyable that I became so disciplined at it. I think a lot of it has to do with how frustratingly sheltered I am. I try to stay positive about it, but it’s hard seeing the interactions and relationships the other students have at school that I’m not a part of. Not having internet access wouldn’t have been a big deal in high school a few years ago, but now it’s pretty much social suicide. Not that I care what anyone thinks.

I won’t deny it, I’ve had an overwhelming urge to look Holder up online. In the past when I had these urges to find out more about people, Six and I would just look them up at her house. But Six is on a transatlantic flight over the Atlantic ocean right now, so I can’t ask her. Instead, I just sit on my bed and wonder. I wonder if he’s really as bad as his reputation makes him out to be. I wonder if he has the same affect on other girls that he does on me. I wonder who his parents are, if he has siblings, if he’s dating anyone. I wonder why he seems so intent on being angry with me all the time when we just met. Is he always this angry? Is he always so charming when he isn’t busy being angry? I hate that he’s either one way or the other and never in between. It would be nice to see a laid back, calm side to him. I wonder if he even has an in between. I wonder…because that’s all I can do. Silently wonder about the hopeless boy who somehow burrowed himself into the forefront of my thoughts and won’t go the hell away.