Saint Sloan (Saint Sloan #1)(22)

Sloan had to stop her before she said cramps. She had to. She couldn’t stand hearing it coming from Darcy’s mouth. “Yeah. Exactly.” Speaking of aspirin, hers was finally hitting, and she felt her headache sliding away. She also felt a tad bit dizzy. They made aspirin strong nowadays.

“It’s strange, though, because we used to be on the same cycle and I’m not due…”

“Okay!” Sloan jumped in before things got over-the-top weird because they were very close to crossing a line she didn’t want to cross. Soon, they’d be braiding each other’s hair again and having sleepovers. “So, no hard feelings, right?”

Darcy smiled. “Right. Anything else? Need more pain medicine?”

Sloan shushed her before she could stop herself. People were around, and she did not need them knowing she took pain pills from Darcy.

“Chill out, Sloan. Not the ones I gave you yesterday,” she whispered. “Over-the-counter. Actual aspirin. Something that won’t knock you on your butt if you take too many. I’m not giving you my entire stash of harder ones. I’m not that crazy.” Darcy laughed and looked at Sloan like she was crazy. Maybe she was.

“No, thanks. I have my own today.” Sloan patted her backpack and smiled, ready to get this conversation over with and be on her way to Ray’s house.

“In case you change your mind or anything, or if,” Darcy leaned real close, “if you do decide you need the harder stuff, you let me know, okay?”

Sloan nodded, knowing she’d never do it. The pills yesterday made her feel pretty good, but she’d been feeling the same thing with the over-the-counter pills she’d been taking today. A little wobbly, but at least nothing hurt. Why would she need Darcy’s addictive pills when she had her own legal ones that helped just as much?

“Get some sleep,” Darcy said before walking off. “You look tired.”

She had always been good at the backhanded compliments. “Thanks. I think.” Darcy turned to walk away, and Sloan knew it was now or never. “Hey, Darcy, I do have one little question that has been bugging me all day.”

Darcy stopped, and Sloan met up with her. “What?”

“How did you know my locker combination?” Her heart beat a mile a minute. This wasn’t something she liked doing and saw her future as a spy slipping away.

It didn’t seem to register at first. Finally, the light bulb went off. “We used to be friends, remember? I’ve seen you open that locker hundreds of times. I guess I just picked it up.”

Sloan smiled nervously. “Yeah, that must be it.”

And Darcy turned serious. “Why are you asking me? Do you not trust me? Do you think I’ll break into your locker and steal your stuff? Your pads or tampons or whatever?”

Would the girl please shut up and stop being so loud? “I’m not accusing. I’m curious, that’s all.” Actually not me, Ray. But Sloan couldn’t just come out and say, Hey, Ray thinks you are stalking me. “I mean, I’ve been to your locker hundreds of times on Junior Hall last year, but I never knew your combination.”

Sloan didn’t think it was possible, but Darcy looked hurt. She hugged the books she held in her hands tighter and shifted her eyes. “It’s not my fault you aren’t as observant as I am. Maybe I just pay attention to other things and not just in what’s in my own little world.”

Time to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Oh, I’m not offended. I’m a smidge under annoyed, but not offended. Hurt maybe. Were you lying to me earlier? Is there something else in your locker you’re afraid I’ll see… or do you think I put something there?”

Darcy was right. She was pretty observant.

“Which is it so I know how to defend myself?” Okay, so she was hurt and offended. Great. Wonderful. Sloan felt like a huge jerk and not a very loving, forgiving, honest Christian. Woo-hoo. Way to go.

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I was just asking.”

“You were just accusing.”

“I was not!” Now Sloan was getting offended. One simple question and Darcy had jumped off the deep end. Just like old times.

“Yes, you were. You are accusing me of something, and I need to know what.” Darcy’s jaw was in a hard line, and she looked very determined.

Sloan threw up her hands, totally done with this conversation. Ray was missing. She had a crazy stalker, Mr. ICU. And Mrs. Knight was mad at her for skipping first period.

First period. Blah! She’d forgotten to ask for the assignment before asking about the combination to the locker. Idiot.

“Look, I’m not accusing you of anything. I promise. It just seemed a little weird. I thought maybe someone told you my combination or something.”

Darcy scoffed. “It’s not like we go around discussing you all the time, Saint Sloan. We have other things going on.”

And there it was. The first time Darcy had called her Saint Sloan, her pet name, in over six months. Being it hadn’t been in her ears for so long, it made them ring, and she felt a pain in her stomach like someone had kicked her. Saint Sloan, a derogatory name for the girl who was a big hypocrite — according to Darcy.

“Don’t call me that.” Sloan felt her nostrils flare. It had been a long time since she’d been called that. It sounded bad, dirty, a curse word even. She wanted to wash it from her brain.