Not If I See You First(58)

“What a pain. It must suck to… you know… read…”

“As slow as I do? Yeah, but math is the hardest since it’s more than just talking and reading. Geometry was like walking barefoot on broken glass.”

“Trig’s not so bad,” Molly says.

“It must be boring since it takes so long to go through it all with me. If I don’t say it enough, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. I think I learn it better by going through it so methodically.”

A part of my brain searches for a comeback to her calling my coping mechanisms methodical but the other part sticks to the plan.

“Speaking of which, you knew D.B. before? At Jefferson?”

“Stockley? Just the way everybody knows Stockley. Why?”

“I told you he was my seeing-eye-buddy when you were out sick—oh, by the way, did I thank you for abandoning me that day?”

“Many times, and again, I’m so sorry you were put out by my painful bout of diar—”

“Aaand… he was having a lot of trouble, and I helped him as much as he helped me. Then after class, I’m not sure, but I think he was…” How do I say this?

“He’s wanted to hang out with you since the first day of school. Tell me you knew that.”

“Well… sort of?”

“I don’t think he’s crushing on you, though,” she says to rescue me, and I like her even more for it. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.”

“You seem worried. I figured it was for the usual reasons, not wanting the awkwardness of not liking someone who likes you.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him.”

“Oh, wait… do you like him?”

“I don’t like like him, but he’s not the douchebag I first thought he… might have been. I don’t usually peg people so wrong and… I don’t know…”

“Is it hard to imagine a guy might want to be your friend without falling in love with you? Wow—”

“What? No! That’s not what I mean! Jesus, ninety-nine percent of the guys here don’t talk to me at all—it hardly ever happens—so sue me if I don’t know what to do when it does.”

I’m not joking but Molly laughs. This makes me smile. It is pretty funny.

“Anyway, I feel bad that I was mean to him before.”

“I doubt he even noticed.”

“It doesn’t matter. My dad used to say if you’re mean to someone then you’re a mean person, period. You can explain forever why someone deserved it and it’ll never add up to you being nice. Like two wrongs don’t make a right. If you see someone being mean, even if they’re being mean to Hitler, you might say Good for you but you’d never say That was nice of you.”

“Your dad thought you should be nice to Hitler?”

“Hmph, now you’re just being thick. I just don’t want to be mean.”

Silence. Well, except for Molly’s breathing and the cricket on my shoulder whispering in my ear that I’m a bad person.

“When I say I don’t think he noticed,” Molly finally says, “I mean you’re talking like you’ve shot him down or something and I don’t think he sees it that way at all.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “I think he might be gay.”

“What? Really?”

“I don’t know if he’s ready to admit it, even to himself, but it’s what I think. Maybe I’m wrong. Doesn’t really matter, though, if you don’t like him.”

“No, but maybe it helps. The point of all this is I was thinking we could invite him to study with us. He really needs help in Trig—”

Molly laughs. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Screw you, Molly—I am saying so!”

“I guess you did get around to it eventually. Sure, yeah, you can invite him.”

“I mean can you invite him? In case we’re wrong, I don’t want him to—”

“To take it the wrong way, I get it. Leave it to me; I can make it work. And don’t let anyone say you’re a mean person, Parker Grant. Sometimes you can be downright… nice.”

“Why, thank you, Molly Ray. But… how exactly will you make it work?”

“I’ll tell him you already have a crush on someone—”

“Don’t you dare! I do not have a crush on anybody! Crushes are…”

“I know: empty, superficial, like with Jason—”

“Hey! That’s…” I sniff at her. “Truth can hurt, you know.”

“Okay… I’ll tell him you’ve already given your heart away. Better?”

“Well, don’t lie to him.”

“It’s not a lie, though, is it.”

She doesn’t say it like a question so I don’t need to answer.





I stand near the track at lunchtime, eating, waiting for Jason to see me. If he hasn’t by the time I finish my sandwich, I’ll text him.

“Hey, Parker,” he says, from a better distance today so it doesn’t startle me.