Rumor Has It (Rumor Has It #1)(43)

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he didn’t tell me.”

“He didn’t tell you why he didn’t meet you? What’d he say when you saw him later?”

“Well …” She bites her lip, still not making eye contact with me. “I didn’t see him later.”

“Oh, does he not go here?”

“No, he does. He has calculus with Mr. Hilton.”

“Oh, so you guys got calc together?”

“Well, no.” She looks at me finally. She doesn’t look upset, more like she’s wondering why I’m asking. “I just know he has that class.”

“Oh.” I stare at her cautiously, knowing what I’m going to say next is going to be the biggest risk yet. “So, do I know him? What’s his name?”

She blinks at me. Biting her lip again, I can tell she’s debating with herself whether to tell me or not.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“No, it’s just …” she lets out an exasperated sigh, dropping her head. “I don’t know his name.”

“What?” I try to sound confused without sounding judgmental.

Picking her head up, she wrinkles her nose at me. “I don’t actually know him.”

“Come again?”

“Well, no, I know him. We’ve talked a lot, but … only through text. We’ve never met.” She drops her head into her hands.

With her eyes covered I let myself smile at her cute awkward and nervousness. I quickly press my lips together, trying to hide the smile, as she looks back up. “Wow, okay. That’s interesting.”

"I don't know why I'm telling you this. And it's not interesting. It's stupid." She frowns.

“Why?”

“Well, at first it was interesting." She makes air quotes as she says it. "And I got to know him, or at least, I thought I did. But then he stood me up. That day I saw you, we were supposed to meet for the first time. I think that’s why I was so mad and was a complete bitch to you. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did.” I smile.

“Okay,” she says after a pause. “I did, but now I know you a little better.”

“Eh, you probably know me better than you think you do.” Easy, Carter. She gives me a sideways look, unsure what I mean, and I remind myself to choose my words carefully. “So, he could be anyone?” I look behind her and see a guy walking down the corridor. “He could be that dude, right there?”

“No, he’s not anyone.” She gives me a determined look as I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know who he is, but I do know him. He’s smart. And nice. And he’s considerate.”

A feeling of elation washes over me, knowing that’s what she thinks of me. “Well, yeah. Except he didn’t—”

“Don’t bring it up again.”

“Sorry.”

I wait for her to continue but realize I may have crossed a line. She looks deep in thought, and I can't stand that she might be thinking about the day she thought I stood her up all over again. Feeling alone and betrayed.

I keep my eyes on her, speaking a little lower. “Hey, for what it’s worth, it had to be an amazing catastrophe that he went through. I mean, if you two know each other as well as you say you do, if I knew you like that, I’d do just about anything to make sure I met you.”

She stares at me, and I wonder if I've said too much. Even if she hasn't figured it out, I want her to know, and every fiber in my body is urging me just to tell her. Come hell or high water; I should just tell her it's me and let the chips fall where they may. But as soon as the thought of revealing myself enters my mind, the bell rings.

She looks away while I throw my sunglasses back on. Getting to my feet and extending my hand to her, she takes it and stands up. I don't want to let go. I want to hold her hand all the way back to class. For the rest of the day. For the rest of my life. But I loosen my grip, giving her the opportunity to pull her hand away. She does, but she smiles back up at me, and it warms me to the core.

“Feel free to walk ahead of me.” I point to my left eye that’s covered by my glasses. “If you don’t want any more rumors started up.”

She lets out a soft giggle. “I’m sure nothing can be as bad as the ones that are already out there.”

“You don’t know McCormick.”

She grins, shaking her head. “Come on.”





Chapter 30





Emma





The only word I can think of to describe the next few days is weird. Weird, because ever since Monday, I haven't received any more texts from Baller. Weird, because my Heartbreak painting has taken this bizarre turn, where I'm adding flakes of gold to it. Weird, because after history Carter has walked me to art class, even though his class is on the other side of campus. And weird, because he's also asked me more about Baller. What kind of things he likes. Why I think he's nice if I've never met him. Sometimes he jokes about his looks, and I reassure him that looks don't matter. Then he switches it to my looks.

“So, if you ever do meet him, you’re not nervous, right?”