One Small Thing(11)

The heat of embarrassment creeps through me again. I can’t believe he’s standing ten feet away from me right now. I thought I’d never see him again, and I was okay with it because that was the less humiliating option. Coming face-to-face with him again after what we did is a million times more humiliating.

Our eyes lock. My breath catches. Scarlett’s saying something, but I can’t hear her over the roaring mortification in my ears. Or is that something else I’m feeling? I swallow and it feels like there are razor blades in my throat.

“Come on,” she says. “Just ignore him. He isn’t worth your time.”

How does she know? “Does he have a rep?” I ask hoarsely, because it suddenly occurs to me what might’ve happened. If Chase has the reputation of being a player, maybe he bragged about Saturday night to anyone who’d listen. Darling and Lexington Heights are neighboring towns—word travels fast if the right people are talking about it.

“Meaning does everyone know about him?” she asks.

I nod without looking at her.

“Of course everyone knows about him.” She huffs in disgust. “Oh, there’s Jeff.”

A flicker of green catches my eye. Directly over Chase’s shoulder, Jeff Corsen’s dark head appears.

I’m not too surprised to see him. I heard he was coming back to Darling. After Rachel died, Jeff totally broke down. Barely managed to finish his sophomore year and then disappeared for more than two years. Grief, his parents said. They sent him to England to live with his grandparents, but apparently he didn’t finish senior year over there because he’s back at Darling High. It’s weird that my sister’s boyfriend, who used to be two years ahead of me, is now in the same grade.

In his forest green hoodie and faded jeans, Jeff strides forward, his shoulder deliberately bumping Chase’s. It breaks our eye contact. Chase’s mouth thins and I tense up, anticipating a confrontation. But then Chase merely turns aside, ignoring the insult.

He’s not fazed by a thing. Not by seeing his hookup standing at the end of the hall on the first day at a new school. Not by being physically brushed aside by another guy. Not by the stares and silence of his new classmates.

I envy that. God, I envy his composure a lot. It reminds me of why I was attracted to him in the first place. There’s a surety about him. Like, a hurricane could sweep through and he’d still be standing in the hall, feet firmly planted, shoulders back.

I bet his parents wouldn’t have the nerve to take the door off his bedroom.

Noise penetrates my brain. Jeff’s appearance has broken the spell cast by Chase. A few classmates laugh. Others rush up to greet Jeff. He was popular before he left. He and Rachel were the golden couple. If she’d lived to her senior year, the two of them would’ve been king and queen of homecoming and the prom.

If she’d lived... My heart seizes up and a familiar discomfort churns in my stomach. I’m not going to think about that.

Instead, I wonder what it was like for Rachel, to be so loved by a guy that he had to move to another country to recover from her death. Did he love her more than I did? I know my parents think I didn’t love Rachel enough, that I don’t mourn her like I should. If I did, I’d behave.

I did love her, though. We were two years apart, but she never treated me like I was a bratty little sister, not even when she started high school and I was still in middle school. We helped each other with homework. We played volleyball. We had slumber parties in her room. She was my big sister. Of course I loved her.

I swallow the pain again. Banish it. Unlike my parents, I won’t let myself obsess over Rachel. I can’t.

“Hey, Lizzie,” Jeff says when he reaches me. His hand, the one with the long, elegant fingers that floated across the piano keys, reaches out and curves around my ear. “Long time, no see.”

“It’s Beth.” When he makes a quizzical face, I repeat, “Beth. I don’t go by Lizzie anymore.”

“All right. Beth it is. How are you?”

“Hi, Jeff!” Scarlett chirps at my side before I can respond.

“Scarlett,” he says. His voice is different, accented.

Scarlett notices. “Oh my God. You came back with an accent. That’s so cool.”

“Is it?” Jeff cocks his head. Behind him, I spot Chase again. His face is half-hidden by the locker door, but I know it’s him.

My body tingles. I guess I’d know it was him if I was blindfolded. A connection was made the other night—one that neither of us can really deny by the looks of the way we stared at each other before Jeff appeared.

Why am I the one ashamed of what happened? It was my choice. I wanted it. The thing I should be embarrassed about is running off like a scared girl. But I can’t help it.

I’ve never been one of those girls who pictured candles and rose petals for her first time, but I at least thought I’d be going out with the guy I gave my V-card to. He’d be my boyfriend, and we’d take it slow and make out a bunch and fool around until we eventually did the deed. But that didn’t happen, and I don’t know how I feel about that.

What I do know is that I can’t let him, or anyone else, see how shaken up I am. I straighten my shoulders. Confidence is what Chase has. I want that.

“Nice to see you, Jeff,” I say, and then I take a few steps forward, in Chase’s direction.