Be the Girl(80)

His face furrows in thought. “What lunch do you have?”

“Fourth.”

“Same here. If you want to come to the library, I could try and explain some things to you.”

“You’d do that?”

He shrugs. “Sure. It will cut into my dungeon battle planning, but I guess I can spare an hour. For you. Because you’re nice to me.”

“Yes. Okay?” This is doubly perfect. Help with math and a valid excuse for avoiding the cafeteria, because there’s no way I’m eating lunch in public while that stupid Instagram account is still up. “Thanks, Rich.” He holds his hands up in the air. “I mean, as long as Emmett is okay, you know … with you and me … together, alone.”

I wait for his serious expression to crack, but it doesn’t.

I plaster the most somber mask I can manage over my face. “I think he’ll understand.”

Ms. Moretti’s whistle sounds. “Let’s get started!” She claps her hands and backs up, waving us off like we’re race cars and she’s the flag carrier.

I take off in a light, slow jog.

“Moretti told you to run with me because I’m slow and your knee is messed up, didn’t she?” Richard says.

“No,” I lie.

“That’s okay.” He taps his head. “It’s this big brain of mine. It weighs too much. I can’t move as fast.”

I smile. He’s funny without meaning to be. No wonder Cassie likes him.

Feet pound the pavement from behind. “Be careful you don’t trip again, AJ,” Holly calls out as she jogs past, her blonde ponytail swishing, my nickname mocking on her lips.

The simmering anger that bubbles deep inside me rises. The urge to retaliate.

Just ignore her.

Just ignore her.

Just ignore her.

I repeat it over and over in my head as I watch her gain distance on us.

“She pretends to be nice, but she’s not, is she?” Richard asks when she’s safely out of earshot.

“No, she’s not.” I hesitate. “She tripped me on purpose at the meet last week.”

Richard’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes Holly up ahead. “What a gelatinous cube.”

Despite my dark mood, I burst with laughter.





“This is perfect. There’s nothing to take a picture of, except the back of your head.” Jen chomps on a celery stick.

We’ve moved from our usual table to one in the corner where I can keep my back to everyone and, hopefully, eat my sandwich in peace. It’s a flag of defeat, a sign that I’m bowing under Holly’s game, and I hate that.

But the sooner I ride this out, the better.

At least my math midterm is over. Meeting Richard yesterday helped. I might walk away with a C thanks to him.

Jen frowns at something behind me. “I thought Emmett had class now?”

“He does.” I look over my shoulder to see Emmett strolling across the cafeteria, his stride fast, his gaze steely, his target obvious.

Holly watches him approach, her eyes flittering toward me a moment.

“This doesn’t look good,” Josie says softly.

He stops in front of her and leans in, resting his hand on the back of her chair.

I can’t hear him from here, but I can read his lips without problem. “Shut it down, now,” he mouths, each word enunciated, his face hard and unfriendly.

Holly bats her eyelashes as her forehead pulls with concern. She shakes her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I read from her lips.

People at surrounding tables have quieted and are watching the confrontation. The caf monitor, a tiny, dark-haired lady, weaves through the tables, approaching cautiously.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Holly,” he says, his voice now carrying, “and if it’s not down within the next ten minutes, I might have to share a few pictures of my own.”

Her face blanches.

With that, he peels away, before the monitor can reach them.

He pauses to seek me out. Spotting me, he heads for our table. And everyone’s watching.

“Hey, what are you doing out of—”

He cuts my question off with a kiss that most certainly breaks the school’s PDA policy, one that makes Josie duck her head and Jen clear her throat and me blush.

“Just wanted to say hi.” He smiles softly as he slides cool fingers beneath my hair to tickle my neck. “Better get back to class, before I get caught.” He kisses me once more and then heads for the door at a quick pace.

“I’ll bet that was about the Instagram account.” Jen watches Holly’s table. “She looks rattled.”

“What kind of pictures does he have of her?” Josie asks.

My stomach turns. I don’t want to think about that, or why he would still have them.

“Look.” Jen nods.

I glance over my shoulder again.

Holly is rushing out of the caf with her things, head down, avoiding eye contact.





“This was a long day.” Jen slams her locker shut and turns her combination lock.

“Agreed.” I stuff the last of my textbooks into my backpack. My shoulders are always sore by the time I walk home, compounded by the fact that a fifteen-minute walk always takes double the time with Cassie.