Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(25)



I take her by the elbow and she stops walking. I turn her so that she’s facing me.

“Sky. I think we got off on the wrong foot at the store yesterday. And the talk about stalking, I swear, it was a joke. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. Would it make you feel better if you knew more about me? Ask me something and I’ll tell you. Anything.”

“If I ask you something, will you be honest?”

I look her hard in the eyes. “That’s all I’ll ever be,” I say. And I intend to be completely honest with her, unless I think it’ll hurt her.

“Why did you drop out of school?”

I sigh, wishing she had asked me something a little less complicated. I should have known things wouldn’t be simple with her, though.

I start walking again. “Technically, I haven’t dropped out yet.”

“Well you obviously haven’t been in over a year. I’d say that’s dropping out.”

That comment makes me curious if she’s heard the rumors about me. Of course I’ve been to school in the past year, it just wasn’t this one. But she didn’t ask about the rumored stint in juvi, so I’m not going to offer up unnecessary information.

“I just moved back home a few days ago,” I say. “My mother and I had a pretty shitty year last year, so I moved in with my dad in Austin for a while. I’ve been going to school there, but felt like it was time to come back home. So here I am.”

She squints like she’s trying to scowl at me, but the expression she makes is too adorable to find intimidating. I keep my smile in check, though, because I can tell she’s taking this school thing seriously. “None of that explains why you decided to drop out, rather than just transfer back.”

She’s right, but only because I really don’t know the answer to her question.

“I don’t know. To be honest, I’m still trying to decide what I want to do. It’s been a pretty f**ked-up year. Not to mention I hate this school. I’m tired of the bullshit and sometimes I think it would be easier to just test out.”

She stops dead in her tracks again and glares at me. “That’s a crap excuse.”

“It’s crap that I hate high school?”

“No. It’s crap that you’re letting one bad year determine your fate for the rest of your life. You’re nine months away from graduation, so you drop out? It’s just . . . it’s stupid.”

She’s really taking this seriously. I laugh, even though I’m trying really hard not to. “Well, when you put it so eloquently.”

She crosses her arms and huffs. “Laugh all you want. You quitting school is just giving in. You’re proving everyone that’s ever doubted you right.”

Her eyes drop to the tattoo on my arm. I’ve never wanted to hide it until this moment, but something about her reading it seems like an invasion of privacy in a way. Maybe because I was so certain yesterday that she was half the reason for the tattoo on my arm. But now that I know she’s not, I really don’t want her asking about it. “You’re gonna drop out and show the world just how hopeless you really are? Way to stick it to ’em.”

I look down at the tattoo. She has no idea what the meaning is behind it and I realize that. But her assumption that it means anything other than what it means sort of pisses me off. I don’t want to explain it to her and I certainly don’t want to be judged by someone who seems to be receiving her own fair share of judgments. Rather than stick around and allow her to decipher me even more, I nudge my head toward her house. “You’re here,” I say flatly. I turn around and head toward home without looking back at her. No need to get too detailed with her, anyway, until I find out more about her relationship with Grayson. And in order to do that, I need to hurry up and get back to my house so I can shower and change in time for my first and possibly only day of senior year.

This is a large school, which is why I didn’t expect to actually have a class with her, much less the first one. And with Mr. Mulligan, to top it off.

She didn’t seem too happy to see me, either. And the fact that she just practically ran past me to get out of the classroom doesn’t seem to bode well. I pick up my textbook and make my way out of the classroom. Rather than search for my next class, I head straight to find her, instead.

She’s facing her locker, switching books. I walk up behind her but pause for a moment before speaking to her. I want to give her a chance to get what she needs from her locker, because I’m hoping I’ll be walking her to her next class.

“Hey, you,” I say optimistically. There’s a pause.

“You came,” she says, her voice cool and composed. She turns around to face me and just seeing her eyes again makes me smile. I lean against the locker next to hers and tilt my head against the cold metal. I eye her outfit for a second, taking in the fact that she somehow looks even better after a shower.

“You clean up nice. Although, the sweaty version of you isn’t so bad, either,” I say, smiling at her. I’m trying to ease some of the tension rolling off her, but nothing seems to be working in my favor.

“Are you here stalking me or did you actually re-enroll?” she asks.

A joke. She made a joke.

“Both,” I say, tapping my fingers against the metal. I’m still smiling at her but she won’t maintain eye contact with me for more than two seconds. She shifts her feet and looks nervously around us.

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