Made You Up(72)

Tucker hesitated. “What you do? What are you doing with him?”

My entire face must’ve been as red as my hair. “I said it’s none of your business, didn’t I?”

Tucker’s voice dropped until he was whispering. “You are shitting me. You slept with him?”

I pretended to check the cash register. “We’re together, okay? That’s all you need to know.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the kitchen. “You have no idea what he’s going to do to you! He’s not a normal person, Alex! He doesn’t understand how what he does affects other people!”

For a moment all I could do was stare at him. I’d had a snappy comment ready, but he hadn’t said what I expected. He hadn’t said, “He’s a dick” or “He’s evil incarnate.”

Tucker had been through this before. Not exactly the same circumstances, but . . . Miles had hurt him a long time before I’d met either of them.

“I—I’ll be fine, Tucker.” I pulled my arm from his grip. “I’ll be okay.”

Tucker shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. He shouldered his way past me, muttering something I almost didn’t catch.

“I hope so.”





I’ll be okay, won’t I?

Without a doubt





Chapter Thirty-seven




Dad didn’t seem to feel too bad about losing driving duties on Monday; he actually gave me a sly grin as I walked out the door.

I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe for Miles to look happier than he did? Maybe for him to give me a reason to disbelieve what Tucker had said? It had only been a day since I’d last seen him, and I hadn’t tried to quell the riot of excitement in my stomach. But as I climbed into the passenger seat, he only gave me the weakest smile before he dissolved into a sort of humiliated depression. He had dark bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What did he do?”

“Nothing.” He stared straight ahead as he drove.

I didn’t say anything else until we’d parked and were walking toward the building, and I noticed that he was doing his best to conceal a limp.

“Why are you limping? What happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened—I’m fine.”

“Miles, what did he do to you?”

“Don’t worry about it!” he snapped.

I shrank back. We didn’t talk all the way to first period English, and when we sat down in our seats, a few snickers came from Cliff’s corner of the room.

“Hey, Richter,” Cliff called, “those Allies finally kick your ass?”

Miles gave Cliff the finger and laid his head down on the desk.

I stared at his back and his sandy hair, and my heart sank until it rested somewhere below my navel. Maybe I’d gotten my hopes up too much. Maybe Tucker had been right. Maybe that trip had been a one-time thing. Maybe he didn’t. . . .

Stop thinking about him, idiot!

I looked at the flickering fluorescent light over my head, then at my classmates, fresh from winter break.

Celia’s hair had turned a strange, moldy mixture of yellow and brown, but it was still green at the tips. She wore East Shoal sweats, and her blue contacts were gone; her eyes were brown. Her face looked weird until I realized it was because she wasn’t wearing makeup. Even though she had no makeup on and she was acne-ridden, she was pretty.

Why did she try so hard?

Everyone was talking about her, making jokes and snide comments loud enough for her to hear. She just sat there, staring at the top of her desk, her eyebrows pushed together. She didn’t seem to want to kill me. Or anyone. She didn’t seem to have much fighting spirit left at all.

A tiny part of me, the part that forgot it had witnessed her screaming about her burning hair, and screaming about not getting what she wanted, and screaming about her friends, felt bad for her.

Miles slept through all our classes that day. Even if he didn’t usually make an effort, he never just slept. The teachers must have realized something was wrong, because they didn’t try to wake him up. Five minutes before each bell, he’d rise like the dead and shuffle on to the next class. Someone called him “Nazi” in the hallway after fifth period, and he just kept on walking.

I didn’t like seeing him this upset. So when we left chemistry and headed for the gym, I shifted my books over to one arm and took his hand, threading our fingers together. I stood on my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. For a few seconds, a real smile lit up his face.