Burn Before Reading(29)

"To tell me about a 'rocking party', I assume."

"You got it! It's at nine, at Riley's house. I'll come pick you up at, what, nine thirty?"

"But...it's at nine. What about eight thirty?"

"Early? Aw, you're so cute. No no no, you always have to be late to a party."

"Uh, why?"

"So you can make an entrance!" She winked. "Here, give me your phone number. You can text me your address later."

As we exchanged numbers, I glanced up at her. "Is there like, a dress code?"

"Oh, the usual."

"By the 'usual' you mean Prada."

This got a laugh out of her, that screechy, yet somehow infectious, laugh.

"If you don't have anything to wear, I can bring some of my clothes over -"

"No, it's okay," I protested. "I happen to enjoy wearing regular jeans. Also I'm pretty sure Prada doesn't make jeans that aren't a size 2."

She laughed again. "For sure. Okay, you have my number, I have yours. Text me later - I've got to get to AP Chem early!”

In a whirl of vanilla perfume, Kristin hugged me and then dashed off, waving at other friends she saw around campus as she went. It was weird - the moment she hugged me, the people at the edges of the parking lot staring at me just...stopped. I knew Kristin was popular, but seeing her power in action was sort of terrifying. With a single hug, she got them off my back. Just like, with a single red-card, Wolf got people to do what he wanted. The two of them were in a totally different category than me, a category full to the brim with charisma.

I stepped into Auto Class nervous as hell. My eyes scanned the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Wolf wasn't here yet. Secretly I hoped he wouldn't show up at all - that'd save me and him a lot of awkwardness. Who am I kidding - Wolf Blackthorn? Awkward? Not in a million years. He'd walk in that door, glare at me, and never stop. I'd have two holes burnt in the back of my head permanently. And it would only be the back of my head, because I was never ever going to look Wolf in the face ever again, that much was for sure.

Mr. Francis took attendance, and introduced me as the newest addition to his class. Auto Shop was mostly filled with guys, but two or three girls sat at the back table. I sought shelter with them. One of them rolled her eyes at me, the other smiled faintly, but never spoke to me, not even when Mr. Francis grouped our tables together to work on labelling a diagram of a V-8 engine. They just passed the paper to me when it was my turn to fill in a blank, and went back to talking to each other about which convertible they were going to ask their parents for when they got their license.

"I don't want a BMW," the frowny girl sighed. "My brother already has one and I don't want to look like I'm copying him."

"You could always get a Saab," Smiley-girl said. "They're really well made."

"Oh, there's Wolf!" Frowny girl pointed to the door. My stomach dropped, and I bent my head over my paper, trying to disappear into the ink. The girls must've not heard about what I'd done at the pool, because they didn't look at me at all. Or maybe they just really liked Wolf. I'd guess the latter, since they couldn't stop whispering.

"He looks really good today."

"It's the uniform, you know? It just suits him."

"Get it, suits?"

"Oh shut up, you're so punny."

"You're right. It's his hair, I'm pretty sure."

"You like guys with messy hair, though. You're biased."

"Seriously, Amanda? I know you like Fitz more, and I admit he's cute, but Wolf's, like, on another plane of existence. There's cute, and then there's stupid-hot. Wolf's stupid-hot."

"You know, Lily told me the other day he looks like he belongs in a castle in France or something and that's exactly it. Like, he shouldn't be in America, you know? He should be a transfer student from Europe."

"If he had an accent I'd die every time he opened his mouth and I like living, thanks very much."

"You're so dramatic."

Listening to them talk, I should've felt like rolling my eyes. But I didn't. It wasn't that I agreed with them - it's just that they were obviously really good friends. I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked with someone my age like that so....so casually. So openly. Guilt welled up in my heart. I was the one who pushed my old friends away. So I had no right to feel so sad. I had no right to miss talking like that with someone. This was the life I chose; this scholarship, a good college, Dad's recovery. It was much more important than a few friends.

I squared my shoulders just in time to hear my name said in Mr. Francis's voice.

"Why don't you go sit with Amanda and Jackie and Bee? It's the only group with three people."

"I'd...rather not." Wolf's voice was low, hitting me like a gut-punch to the stomach.

"I'd rather you would," Mr. Francis insisted. "Please, Wolf. Make my life easy today, for once."

There was a pause, and then footsteps grew near. I clenched my fist around my pen and focused as hard as I could on labelling the parts of the engine. Manifolds, oil pan, crank pins - a chair shrieked next to me as it was pulled out – flat-plane crankshaft, rocker cover, valve train -