The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things(15)



“You don’t eat meat,” he says, staring at the burger.

I’m shocked he remembers me mentioning it at the Green World meeting. “This hardly qualifies. It’s probably eighty-five percent soy anyway. But it’s not for me.” I slide the paper plate toward him.

Shane shakes his head. “Thanks but I’m not hungry.”

“It’ll make me feel weird to eat alone. Plus, I can’t afford to pay you to tutor me. The least I can do is get lunch now and then.” A guy’s pride is a delicate thing—I know enough from dealing with Ryan not to say more.

I just start eating. A few seconds later, he digs into the un-delicious burger, as if he was damn near starved. I down a few more bites of limp salad before saying, “I guess I promised you a story.”

“Somewhat.”

The sophomores can’t hear us down the table, as it’s loud in here, but I pitch my voice low just in case. “Basically, Ryan was never my boyfriend. He just let people think we were together. Because I’m an idiot, I didn’t guess why.” Those last words come out bitter.

“So why did he do that?” I hear all kinds of nuances in his voice, questions, doubts.

Here’s where it gets tricky. “It’s complicated. He lied to me, though, and that’s what I can’t just get over. Maybe someday we’ll be friends again, but for now…” I shrug.

“Friends?” he repeats.

“Yeah. Friends.”

“So he didn’t break your heart.” He sounds relieved.

“Did you want him to?”

“I was afraid he had. That maybe you were talking to me…” His eyes cut away from mine.

“Because I was trying to make Ryan jealous? Not my style.”

I want to say, OMG, Shane, you think I’m a dude magnet? I’ve been Ryan’s sidekick, his not-girlfriend so long, that I have no idea what this is or what I’m doing. But I love it.

“I’m not looking for drama,” Shane tells me.

I understand the reason for the pronouncement immediately. Ryan’s watching us from across the cafeteria, but he won’t be shoving Shane into any doorjambs or cornering him in the boys’ toilet. In some ways, his silent, wounded eyes are worse. I can tell he feels horrible and that he misses me, but what am I supposed to do? After what I’ve learned, I don’t want to be his girlfriend, which is what he was shooting for when he made his big confession. I feel like I hardly know the guy, and that hurts most of all.

“There won’t be any.”

“I just … I can’t afford any trouble,” he says softly, not looking at me. “Any more, and I’m off to juvie until I’m eighteen.”

Possibly he thinks this will scare me off. But I have my dark side, too. The staff at the group home pulled me off an emotional ledge years ago, so I know what it’s like to feel completely out of control, doing stuff you know deep down is a terrible idea and yet you cannot stop. I study the rigid line of his shoulders. “Did you put that Post-it on my locker?”

He’s dead silent, but his eyes answer where his lips do not. I see the yes written in aquamarine.

In this moment, I want to kiss him so bad it hurts.





CHAPTER SIX

I don’t, of course.

This is still the JFK lunchroom, and I’m not that brave. In the end, I let him get away with not answering. It’s enough that he’s here with me and not hiding out with the burners. I finish my food, just shoveling it down, so I can say I did. I’m too nervous to enjoy the salad, especially with Shane studying me so intently. I’m suddenly worried I have lettuce in my teeth.

Afterward, Shane walks me to my next class, even though he’s not in it. Instead of saying good-bye, he brushes my hair away from my face and gives me a smile that makes me forget what subject I have this period. Then he lopes away, hopefully to make his next class before the bell. I melt into my seat before remembering where I am … and that Ryan is already sitting in the desk next to mine.

As I sit down, he glances over, but he doesn’t say anything. Around us, three girls are whispering behind cupped hands. It’s so weird to be the subject of gossip over a relationship that never existed except in other people’s minds. I heard the speculation before, but it’s different, knowing that Ryan encouraged it behind my back—that he was using the rumors. I mean, he knew his parents wouldn’t approve and that I’d be upset. Who wants to be the girl somebody pretends to date while secretly going after someone better? Yet he did it anyway. My anger kindles fresh, and I tamp it down. Rage tastes like burning in the back of my throat. Once I’m calm, I bend my head to my paper, taking copious notes that I’ll probably never look at again. Afterward, I linger over packing up my stuff to give him a chance to leave.

The day passes at the speed of snail.

Before last period, I leave a Post-it for a freshman kid the football goons are harassing today instead of Shane. They call him Alexa instead of Alex, and that has to suck. Since I don’t know him, I compliment his taste in sneakers, which are awesome old-school Chucks, just the right amount of grunge. Alex does a clumsy karate kick as I go by, showing off the shoes, and I laugh. The beautiful people think I’m an idiot, but their scorn is worth it for moments like this. It’s like everybody I tag could be a potential friend.

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