Send Me a Sign(69)

Chris shrugged. “It’s no big deal,” but his pink ears and aw-shucks smile betrayed him.

He started to rock back on his heels, ready to turn and leave, but I wasn’t done. “Wait, who said we were?”

He looked down. “No one.”

“Hil?”

He cleared his throat. “A lot of people have been saying stuff. I mean, something’s going on. You’re a zombie this year. And I’ve known Ryan his whole life and I’ve never seen him like this. Not even when his dad left.”

I flinched and looked down.

“Has she seen you yet?” Even Chris sounded nervous.

“So she’s really mad?” I wanted to put down my French and math books and wipe my sweaty hands on my skirt.

Chris shrugged. “Yeah, but she won’t tell me why. Is this still because of that stupid thing with Ryan? She’s not into Winters. I swear to God, she’s not.”

I leaned against my locker; it used to be the girls would’ve decorated it to welcome me back after any sort of absence. But that was back when the Calendar Girls were the jealousy standard at East Lake—they still were. I, apparently, wasn’t a part of that anymore. “No. It’s not that. Besides, Ryan loves me, he’d never—”

Chris whistled. “Whoa. I knew you’d gone all rebel and started dating, but love? You and Winters are using the L-word?”

“I’m not.” My mind was still on Hil, and my answer was automatic and careless.

“Wait, Ryan—Ryan Winters—says he loves you and you don’t say it back?”

“I like him a lot.” I hadn’t thought about it, but hearing Chris laugh made it seem awful.

“God, you have him whipped.”

“Like Hil doesn’t have you on a short leash?” I shot back, praying my accusation was accurate.

Chris grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You need to work on your poker face.”

He tried, and failed, to stop smiling. “Anyway, I’d better get back before Mrs. Fryer sends out a search party. Good luck at lunch. I’m glad I’m a dude; girls are too much drama.”

I’d need more than luck, but I didn’t know what. Maybe I wasn’t ready for school yet. Maybe I should get back in my car and head home. Climb back in my bed and hide for just a few more days. Instead, I headed down the hall to French, dreading every minute that brought me closer to the cafeteria and my best friends.





Chapter 38

At lunch I saw Ryan waiting at my locker before he saw me. He looked anxious, exhausted, then relieved—all of this before his dimples appeared. He asked, “How are you?”

“Hanging in. Can I have a hug?” I wanted to stay like that, with my cheek against his chest and his arms tight and warm around me. Just a few more seconds, minutes, and I’d have the courage to go to the cafeteria and face the girls.

“Do a guy a favor—it’s lunchtime and I’d rather not feel sick before I eat the school pizza.” I heard Chris’s voice and footsteps as he walked the five lockers between us, but I didn’t pick up my head and look.

I felt Ryan shift as he responded with a hand gesture, but I didn’t look then either.

Chris laughed. Ryan squeezed me tighter for a beat and I knew that was my cue.

Lunchtime.

Showtime.

Showdown.



Neither of us encouraged Chris’s stupid jokes on the walk to lunch, but that had never stopped him from having a conversation with himself. Today, however, even he was quiet as we approached the cheerleading table. Everyone stopped eating and regarded us silently.

Chris coughed. “Hey, Hil, look who I found.”

“I wish you hadn’t,” she said icily, and resumed dismantling a bunch of grapes. Ally dropped her bagel. She was the only one who returned my “Hey, guys,” with a quiet, guilty “Hi, Mia,” before Hil shot her a look that made her drop her bagel again.

I kissed Ryan on the cheek and told him I’d see him later. I wanted him to stay and sit beside me and hold my hand, but he and Chris didn’t sit at our table on a normal day, and I wanted to pretend this was normal.

It was lunchtime, where the main event was everyone watching Hil ignore me; Ally and Lauren following her lead.

This wasn’t where or how I’d planned it, but after my third lame question about cheerleading was met with silence, I couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Can we talk?”

“No,” Hil said and stood.

I turned to Ally, who was too busy chewing her lip and watching Hil to notice. Lauren wouldn’t meet my eye, which made no sense. She knew, so how could she possibly feel betrayed or left out or whatever was fueling Hil’s pissy mood?

I tried for faux sternness, but only managed desperate. “Hillary, sit down and listen to me. I know you’re mad I didn’t call, but I really had a good excuse.”

She whirled, her burgundy fingernail pointed a few inches from my nose. “I don’t want more excuses. I don’t even care anymore—why should I? It’s been eleven days since you promised to call. I’m obviously not important to you.” Her hand dropped back to her side, clenched in a fist as she began to walk away.

This stupid secret seemed the only card left to play, and even more than I hated telling, I hated telling her this way. “Of course I care. Hil, wait!”