Hopeless(52)
“Sky,” Holder says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I look at him and he’s eyeing me cautiously. “Where’d you go?”
I shake my head and smile, not knowing what just set off that mini internal panic attack. He slides his hand just below my ear and runs his thumb across my cheekbone. “You have to quit checking out like that. It freaks me out a little bit.”
“Sorry,” I say with a shrug. “I’m easily distracted.” I bring my hand up and pull his hand away from my neck, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. “Really, I’m fine.”
His gaze drops to my hand. He flips it over and slides my sleeve up, then twists my wrist back and forth.
“Where’d you get that?” he says, looking down at my wrist.
I look down to see what he’s referring to and realize I’m still wearing the bracelet I put on this morning. He looks back up at me and I shrug. I’m not really in the mood to explain it. It’s complicated and he’ll ask questions and lunch is almost over.
“Where’d you get it?” he says again, this time a little more demanding. His grip tightens around my wrist and he’s staring at me coldly, expecting an explanation. I pull my wrist away, not liking where this is going.
“You think I got it from a guy?” I ask, puzzled by his reaction. I hadn’t really pegged him for the jealous type, but this doesn’t really seem like jealousy. It seems like crazy.
He doesn’t answer my question. He keeps glaring at me like I’ve got some sort of huge confession that I’m refusing to reveal. I don’t know what he expects, but his attitude right now is more than likely going to end up with him getting slapped, rather than with me giving an explanation.
Breckin shifts uncomfortably in his seat and clears his throat. “Holder. Ease up, man.”
Holder’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, it grows even colder. He leans forward a few inches and lowers his voice when he speaks. “Who gave you the damn bracelet, Sky?”
His words transform into an unbearable weight in my chest and all the same warning signs that flashed in my head when I first met him are flashing again, only this time they’re in big neon letters. I know my mouth is agape and my eyes are wide, but I’m relieved that hope isn’t a tangible thing, because everyone around me would see mine crumbling.
He closes his eyes and faces forward, setting his elbows on the table. His palms press against his forehead and he inhales a long, deep breath. I’m not sure if the breath is more for a calming affect, or a distraction to keep him from yelling. He runs his hand through his hair and grips the back of his neck.
“Shit!” he says. His voice is harsh and it causes me to flinch. He stands up and walks away unexpectedly, leaving his tray on the table. My eyes follow him as he continues across the cafeteria without once looking back at me. He slaps the cafeteria doors with both palms and disappears through them. I don’t even blink or breathe again until the doors finish swinging, coming to a complete standstill.
I turn back to Breckin and I can only imagine the shock on my face right now. I blink and shake my head, replaying the last two minutes of the scene in my head. Breckin reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, but doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. We both lost all of our words the second Holder disappeared through those doors.
The bell rings and the cafeteria becomes a whirlwind of commotion, but I can’t move. Everyone is moving around and emptying trays and clearing tables, but the world of our table is a stilled one. Breckin finally lets go of my hand and grabs our trays, then comes back for Holder’s tray and clears off the table. He picks up my backpack and takes my hand again, pulling me up. He puts my backpack over his shoulder, then walks me out of the cafeteria. He doesn’t walk me to my locker or walk me to my classroom. He holds my hand and pulls me along behind him until we’re out the doors and across the parking lot and he’s opening a door and pushing me inside an unfamiliar car. He slides into his seat and cranks the car, then turns in his seat and faces me.
“I’m not even going to tell you what I think about what just happened in there. But I know it sucked and I have no idea why you aren’t crying right now, but I know your heart hurts, and maybe even your pride. So f*ck school. We’re going for ice cream.” He puts his car in reverse, then pulls out of the parking spot.
I don’t know how he does it because I was just about to burst into tears and sob and snot all over his car, but after those words come out of his mouth, I actually smile.