How to Save a Life(26)

“I know, but I’m not cold.”

He pulled away, smiling gently. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

He took my hand as we stepped out of the pool, letting go only so we could dry off. I pulled jeans and shirt over my damp suit, the material soaking up pool water and sticking to my skin. The heat had relented a bit: the air carried a slight chill to it for the first time in weeks.

“Next time, I’ll remember a towel,” I said.

Evan took up his shirt—a blue and black plaid flannel—from the lounger and hung it around my shoulders. It left him in only a wife-beater and I could see the gooseflesh broken out over the muscles of his arms and shoulders.

“Won’t you be cold?” I said.

He only shrugged and smiled. The smile stayed on me, and instead of feeling self-conscious, I let myself bask in it.

We looked quite the pair of wet rats walking home, Evan pushing my bike for me. My hair dripped water in our wake, leaving a trail back to the pool. The one place I could live as myself, not the actress I felt everywhere else. We walked slowly, reluctant to return to the real world that felt more like a stage.

On the sidewalk outside my house, Evan dropped the kickstand on my bike and shoved both of his in the front pockets of his jeans. “Listen, Jo, tomorrow… At school…”

“What happens tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. More of the usual horrible shit, I suppose. And I think…it would be better if you…” His words trailed away and his gaze drifted to the ground.

I crossed my arms. “If I what?”

Evan looked at me and I swear I could feel the weight of his pain rest on me. Only for an instant, then he took it back. “I just think it’ll be better if you pretend you don’t know me.”

The words punched me in the gut. My arms dropped to my sides.

Evan went on in his flat, matter-of-fact voice. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“Shut up,” I said.

He blinked.

“Don’t say that again.” I softened my voice. “Don’t say anything like that ever again. Not to me.”

I put my arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard, stealing his breath to keep for my own. When I stepped away, the smile on his face was dazed.

“See you tomorrow,” I said, taking my bike down the walk to my front door. “Okay?”

“Okay.” I could barely see him in the light of the streetlamp, but I heard the smile, coloring his words. “Good night, Jo.”

I went to bed that night and for the first time in my teenage life, I fell asleep like a normal girl: not remembering tearing skin or bathtub suicides, but thinking dreamily of her first kiss with a boy she liked.

If there was never anything more between Evan and I, if the ground swallowed him up or if Gerry moved us the next day, at least I had those minutes in my bed when I felt nothing was wrong with me. When I felt beautiful and important.

I drifted between awake and asleep.

Floating.

Not on air, but on water.





And the next morning, it was back to good ol’ rock bottom.

“Hey, it’s Jo-Jo-Joker, the Ho-Ho-Whore.”

Laughter followed me down the hall. I walked faster, head down, stomach roiling. Not at the stupid insult or the snake hiss of whispers behind me, but because I had been so careless. So stupid.

Evan’s going to hear and I hadn’t warned him last night.

I was at my locker during first break, switching out my calculus book for chemistry, when I heard a scuffle further down the hallway. Sounds of swearing and scuffs. A fight and I knew without looking who it was.

Too late, Jo-Jo-Joker…

I wanted to turn and run. Instead, I hurried to where a small crowd was starting to gather around Evan and Matt King. Evan had Matt pressed up against a bank of lockers and his normally unreadable face was twisted with rage. Matt was nearly a head taller than Evan but looked ready to piss his pants.

“Shut your ugly mouth.” Evan’s voice was a snarl I’d never heard before. He looked like he was barely keeping himself in check.

“Get the f*ck off me.” Matt’s voice was choked from Evan’s forearm shoved under his chin. His eyes darted around the hall, looking for help from his posse. “Jared,” he managed to call out.

I looked to see Jared Piltcher rounding the corner with girlfriend, Laney, his arm slung over her shoulders. He stopped in his tracks, eyes widening at the situation. Then he strode into the crush of bodies, shoving his way through. His hand grabbed for Evan’s shoulder. Evan shoved him off without taking his eyes from Matt.

“You’re done, *,” Evan said “You’re f*cking done talking about her. You got it?”

Jared had a fistful of Evan’s shirt, yanking hard. “Get off him, freak.”

Evan’s head turned back. His eyes were murderous. Then the rage melted out of his expression, and a peculiar look came over his face. His forearm fell away from Matt’s throat and he turned all the way to face Jared. The noise level in the hall dropped, except for Matt coughing as he staggered away.

I held my breath as Evan and Jared stared each other down.

“It was you,” Evan said, carving each word out of the air.

Jared took a miniscule step back, his face pale. I would’ve laughed if I weren’t so nauseous.