Underneath the Sycamore Tree(18)

Someone sits beside me on the ground and drops a five-dollar bill in my lap. Looking up expecting to see Kaiden glaring, I’m surprised by the long locks of chestnut brown hair instead.

Rachel isn’t looking at me. “I think we both know it isn’t a good idea to ignore him. At least pretend you bought something with it.”

I stare down at the crisp bill. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because Kaiden’s an idiot.”

My eyes widen.

She sighs. “He only did that because Danny Walsh from the lacrosse team commented on how tiny you are and then got the guys talking about what they’d do to your body. One guy said he could wrap one hand around your waist while he screws you from behind.”

My cheeks prickle with heat as I look to the ground. “I don’t see why he felt the need to cause a scene like that all because boys were talking about me. That’s just…”

“It’s what Kaiden does.” She says it in an exasperated tone. “He threatened the guys in the locker room and then made a point in the cafeteria that he’s the only one allowed to mess with you.”

Am I supposed to be thankful?

She shakes her head. “He just gave you his protection. You should be glad.”

High schoolers shouldn’t need protection from each other. Then again, look at Riley. Nobody has said anything more about her since Kaiden told me what happened, so I wonder if their silence was another royal decree.

I extend my legs out in front of me. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me any of this. What’s in it for you?”

Her laugh is airy. “I know everyone thinks I’m a total moron, but you know what? It’s easier to be a fly on the wall when people don’t think you’re capable of listening in.”

I blink in surprise.

She grins at me. “I like Kaiden. He and I have been on and off for a long time. The more popular he gets the more girls want him. But he keeps me around.”

“He insults you.”

“He’s Kaiden.”

If that’s supposed to justify how he talks to her, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t know Rachel, but anyone deserves better than that. Even if he has his own methods of keeping control of people, it isn’t right.

“Anyway,” she disregards, “I don’t have to worry about those girls. He isn’t interested in them. And, frankly, I’d like to think he isn’t into you, but I can’t be too sure.”

I gape at her. “Our parents are married.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you get it? If anyone gets what they want no matter the situation, it’s Kaiden. He could feed you to the sharks if he wants to, but he hasn’t yet.”

Yet. Wonderful.

“So, I’ll play nice. For now.” She shrugs casually, like there’s no threat behind her words. I’m not sure what she’d do if she thought I was somehow in her way.

“I don’t like Kaiden,” I state firmly.

She stands up and glances down at me with a smile painted on her face. “I believe you, Emery. However, Kaiden has a way of getting under people’s skin one way or another. And, unfortunately, he’s willing to take on an entire sports team for you.”

“So?”

She flips her hair over her shoulder. “I guess we’ll just see how long it takes before things change. He wouldn’t even sleep with me when I came over the other day. I was bored out of my mind.” Pointing toward the money next to me, she adds, “You might want to go to the vending machine or something. He won’t care if it’s not pizza you get as long as you eat.”

When she starts walking away, I call out her name. “You never really said why you’re talking to me. I get that you like Kaiden, but if he wants everyone to leave me alone, then why warn me about him?”

She adjusts her purse on her arm. “If Kaiden likes you that means you’re competition.”

It won’t matter what I say to her about what I am to him. She already thinks I’m someone to look out for because of him standing up for me. If it means having enemies over, I’ll be sure to tell him to throw me to the sharks. I’d rather go down on my own terms anyway.

Rachel leaves without another word, and from the hallway window, I see Kaiden staring. He doesn’t look angry. He looks…amused. I’m afraid to find out what’s so funny.

When I meet him at his car at the end of the day, I get in, buckle up, and drop the five-dollar bill onto his lap.

He stares at me.

“I wanted my salad.”





Chapter Seven





Thursday Book Club is small and intimate, a circle of upholstered armchairs setup in the quiet section of the library. Most of the seats are occupied by girls, and when I see them ogling an oblivious Mr. Nichols, I shake my head and take one of the last chairs.

At three-thirty, Mr. Nichols welcomes all of us and explains the general idea behind the afterschool club. It’s seems obvious that reading and discussing books is the reason we’re here, but then I’m reminded by the Little Mermaid wannabe next to me that’s not true when she asks silly questions to get Nichols’ attention.

For the duration of the meeting, we talk about selecting different novels for the year. I’m interested when he pulls out a glass bowl, small pieces of paper, and a handful of pens from his bag. He tells us we’ll each write a book down on the paper, fold it, and put it in the bowl. He’ll write down the order of books we’ll read and discuss throughout the term as they’re pulled out by us.