One Small Thing(36)

He stops abruptly, spots me and sighs deeply. “Fuck,” he says. “You weren’t kidding about the crying thing.”





15

Of course. Who else would catch me bawling in the school library? Who fucking else?

But as embarrassed as I am, I’m also tired of it. Tired of feeling humiliated every time I encounter Chase Donnelly. So I don’t bother wiping my eyes. I just meet his gaze head-on and say, “I told you. I can’t control it.”

“Who or what are you mad at?”

I wrinkle my forehead. “What?”

“You said you cry when you’re mad and everyone thinks you’re sad. So what pissed you off?”

“I’m not pissed off. I’m sad,” I admit. “I cry when I’m mad and I cry when I’m sad and I laugh when I’m supposed to cry. I suck.”

He sighs again. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Wanted to get a head start on that Music History essay.” He takes an awkward step forward. Then he takes a step back, as if he’s just remembered who he’s talking to and knows he shouldn’t come near me.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing, too,” I lie.

His gaze drops to the book on the floor. Even from five feet away, I know he can clearly read the title. Climate Change: A Global Epidemic.

“You might want to use a different book as a reference,” he says helpfully.

I scowl at him.

For half a second, it looks like he’s going to smile. But then his eyes go shuttered and he shuffles backward some more.

“What? Afraid to be seen with me?” I taunt.

Chase shrugs. “No. I’m thinking about you right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you probably shouldn’t be seen talking to me.”

“Why not?” I challenge, even though the answer to that question is stupidly obvious.

Chase confirms that. “For obvious reasons, Beth.” And then he adds a curveball. “But also because of Corsen’s crusade.”

“Jeff?” I say blankly. “What crusade?”

“The petition he’s passing around.” Chase’s expression is cloudy, but I can tell he’s more uneasy than angry.

He props one broad shoulder against the bookshelf and avoids my gaze. The long fingers of one hand splay on the top of his jeans, the thumb hooked in his belt loop. I remember how those fingers felt on my bare skin and I want to start crying again.

Am I ever going to not think about that night? I get it—most people never forget their first. But my first is someone I shouldn’t be allowed to remember. Someone I can’t even be seen talking to.

“What petition?” I ask.

Another indifferent shrug. Except I know he’s not indifferent to any of this at all. His unhappiness is written in every tense line of his body. “Your buddy Jeff—”

“He’s not my buddy,” I cut in. “He just dated my sister.”

We both blanch at the reminder of Rachel. She’ll always be between us. Always.

“Whatever,” Chase says. “He’s been passing around his little petition all morning, trying to get signatures from everyone at school. Guess he’s hoping that if enough people join him, Principal Geary will have no choice but to kick me out of school.”

I swallow. “They’re trying to get you kicked out?”

“Like you didn’t already know that,” he says quietly. “I know Corsen’s parents spoke to the school board.” He gives me a pointed look. “Yours, too.”

Guilt weighs low in my belly. I swallow again. “Obviously the school board ignored them, since you’re still here.”

“Yeah. My stepdad took a stand. Not because he gives a shit about where I go to school. Brian just doesn’t like being pushed around by anyone. As long as he says I’m going to this school, then make no mistake, I’ll be going to this school. He said it’s a matter of principle.”

“Brian...as in, the mayor? Your mom married him, right?” I voice the questions before I can stop myself. Why, though? Why am I trying to get to know him?

“Yeah, this spring.” Sarcasm drips from his next words. “I totally would’ve made it, but I was indisposed at the time.” Chase chuckles darkly. “That’s the line Mom gave everyone, like all those fuckers didn’t already know exactly where I was and why I couldn’t attend.”

Discomfort tickles my throat. Oh God. I don’t know about this can of worms I just opened. I’d wanted a glimpse into Chase’s home life, and now I have it and it’s so...sad.

“Sounds like you don’t like your stepdad much,” I say carefully.

“Nah, I’m indifferent to him. He’s an all right guy, I guess. We just don’t have much to say to each other.” Chase shoves a hand through his hair and exhales in a rush. “Fuck, I need a smoke.”

“You shouldn’t smoke,” I say immediately, because that’s what I always say to anyone who smokes. “It’s an awful habit.”

Rather than respond, he sweeps his gaze over me, a thoughtful expression filling his face.

Under his long, studious examination, my cheeks grow warm. “What?” I mumble.