Always Never Yours(50)

I feel a stab of guilt. Of course Owen’s just trying to be my friend. It’s what he’s been doing since the day we met. I exhale. “It turns out I was an idiot for not believing what everyone told me. Madeleine let it slip this weekend she and Tyler hooked up a month before he and I broke up.”

“That . . .” Owen reaches for words. “Definitely sucks.”

“I’m not surprised on Tyler’s end, honestly. But Madeleine . . . She’s the one person I couldn’t believe would do that to me.” I stare at the ground and absently rip out blades of grass. “The messed-up thing is, part of me wants to pretend it didn’t happen. There’s more stuff going on with my dad, and I wish I could talk to her, have her sleep over, like we did when my parents were splitting up.”

He nods. “What are you going to do?” he asks evenly.

“Do? I’m not the one who has to do anything. I want her to . . . I don’t know. Figure out a way to make it right.”

“She will,” Owen says without hesitation.

I shoot him an incredulous look. “How do you know?”

He glances down like he’s considering the question. “I don’t,” he admits. “But she will if she’s the kind of friend worth having.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I want to believe Madeleine’s the kind of friend who would want to fix things between us. And I do believe it. I’d forgive her if she showed me that I mean more to her than how she treated me.

I feel my stomach sink. I’m not the only one who deserves to feel that way. Anthony means more to me than the way I’ve been rushing him, too. He should take his relationship—or flirtation, or whatever it is—with Eric at whatever pace he wants.

“You know,” Owen says, and I realize he’s been waiting patiently during my lengthy introspection, “I’m not Madeleine—sleepovers with me might be a bit weird—but I’m here for you if you need.”

I look up into his dark, thoughtful eyes. “Sleepovers with you wouldn’t be weird, Owen . . . unless you’re into ‘weird.’” I wink. Before he begins to blush, I lower my voice and say sincerely, “But really, thanks.”



* * *





I have Trig after lunch. Outside Mr. Patton’s door, I decide I’m going to skip class. I know it’ll be boring, and besides, I have urgent business. I turn and walk against hallway traffic until I reach the science wing, where I wait for the next fifteen minutes after the bell rings and the hallway empties.

When Ms. Howell leaves the AP Physics room, I hover by the bathroom door and try to look like I have total permission to be here. I know where Howell’s headed. I had Intro Physics with her last year, and without fail she goes to the parking lot for a smoke break fifteen minutes into each of her afternoon classes.

I slip into the room behind her. It’s a scene of utter chaos. The AP students are armed with fluorescent purple Nerf crossbows. Foam darts fly across the room trailed by students with measuring tapes and notebooks. A dart hits me in the back of the head, and I hear a whiny voice complain that I’m interrupting the data-collection process.

I don’t bother to apologize. I’m here for one reason, and he’s in the back of the room.

Anthony’s head is bent over his notebook. He doesn’t look up when I lean on the counter next to him. “I’m in the middle of class, Megan,” he says flatly.

“I know. It’ll only take a second.”

He drags his eyes from his paper and glares at me. “What, you haven’t messed with my life enough already?”

I flinch. “I’m sorry,” I hurriedly continue, knowing I won’t have long before he shuts me out again. “I shouldn’t have rushed you. You were right, even though you said some shit that really hurt.”

Anthony looks away, but he doesn’t ignore me. “Why are you here, Megan?”

“I want to be a good friend. The kind of friend worth having. You’ve been a good friend to me, and I want to make things right.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I forced you to take things faster than you wanted to.”

“It’s not just about being sorry,” he replies immediately, his voice harsh. “You don’t understand how not like you I am. I know you wanted to help, but you never bothered to consider what kind of help or encouragement or friendship I wanted. I don’t have your no-holds-barred attitude toward relationships, and I never will. You’re fearless, and that’s awesome,” he goes on, something somber entering his eyes. “But it’s painful and honestly frustrating when you push me to date the way you do.”

“I understand,” I reply. “Or I’m trying to understand. I’m going to keep trying, if you’ll let me. To be fair, though, I didn’t exactly force you and Eric into your bedroom together,” I point out, and Anthony’s eyes flicker. “You’re hardly timid when it comes to guys. But I know I went about this wrong,” I rush to add. “I’m sorry I screwed everything up with Eric. I won’t intrude in your relationships from now on. Promise.”

His expression begins to soften. “You didn’t screw everything up,” he says gently. “It’s my fault, and Eric’s, not yours. I’m sorry, too. I took some low blows at your relationship history, and I didn’t mean what I said.”