One of Us Is Next(45)
“Hi,” I say. “Wanna skip?”
His brow furrows. “Huh?”
“Do you want to skip last period?” I dig into my bag and pull out my keys, spinning them on one finger. “I have a car today.”
Knox looks utterly confused. “What do…how does that even work?”
“We leave school instead of going to class, and go someplace fun instead,” I say, enunciating each word slowly. “It’s not rocket science, Knox.”
His eyes dart around the hallway, like we just committed a felony and the authorities are closing in. “Won’t we get in trouble?” he asks.
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal if you aren’t chronic about it. Your parents get a robocall, and you tell them you went to the nurse’s office, but it was really busy and she never checked you in.” I spin the keys faster. “Or, you could just go to health class.”
At this point, I’m kind of hoping he says no. It starts to hit me, as everyone who passes us stares, that I’m going to bring all kinds of shit down on myself by being seen with him today. But then Knox slams his locker door closed and says, “The hell with it. Let’s go.”
No backing out now.
I keep my eyes straight ahead as we walk down the hall, willing myself not to run for the exit. There’s a hushed, urgent voice in my head that sounds a lot like the narrator in a wildlife show I used to watch with my dad: Rapid movement will only draw attention from the hungry pack. Behind us, I hear Brandon hoot about something, but we’re too far away for it to be us. I think. Still, I’m relieved when we push through the doors of the back stairwell.
“Welcome to your life of crime,” I say to Knox as we exit the building into a light sprinkling of rain. His eyes widen, and I roll mine. “It’s not an actual crime, Knox. Have you seriously never skipped a class before?”
“No,” he admits as we descend the stairs. “I’ve gotten the perfect attendance award for two years running.” He grimaces. “I have no idea why I just told you that. Pretend I didn’t.” There’s a faint clanging noise ahead of us, and we both pause as someone jumps over the back fence behind the parking lot. I recognize Matthias Schroeder’s tall frame and pale-blue hoodie just before he lopes into the woods behind school. Looks like we’re not the only ones skipping health class. It’s a nightmare for nerdy guys everywhere.
When we reach the car, Knox pulls on the handle like he’s expecting it to be open, but our Corolla’s power locks failed years ago. I unlock my door, climb into the driver’s seat, and reach over to let him in. “So, where are we going?” he asks.
I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I start the engine and turn on the windshield wipers against what’s now a steady rain. “Well, it’s not very nice out, so we can forget about the beach or a park,” I say, navigating for the exit. “We could drive to San Diego if you want. There’s this coffee shop I like that has live music some afternoons. The only thing is—” I’m so busy talking that I don’t notice I’m about to pull into the main road while a car is passing, and I have to slam the brakes to avoid it. Knox and I both lurch forward against our seat belts, hard. “I don’t drive all that much, and I’m kind of bad in traffic. And rain. So we could go to Epoch Coffee in the mall instead.”
“Epoch Coffee is good,” Knox says, massaging his shoulder.
We lapse into silence, and I feel a lightning-quick flash of rage for us both. It’s bullshit that I’m getting shamed for having sex, and Knox is getting shamed for not having it. Meanwhile nobody’s attacking Derek or Maeve, even though they did the exact same things we did. Or didn’t do. People like to think they’re open-minded, but if you toss a tired gender stereotype in their path they’ll run with it every time. I don’t understand why the world insists on stuffing kids into boxes we never asked for, and then gets mad when we won’t stay there.
If I start ranting about that, though, I’ll never stop. And I’m pretty sure Knox needs a different kind of distraction right now. So I talk all the way to the Bayview Mall about whatever comes to mind: TV shows, music, my job, my brother. “He wants you to come over,” I tell Knox as we pull into the mall parking lot. It’s full on such a rainy day, but I get lucky when a Jeep pulls out from a front-row spot right when I’m cruising past. “Apparently you made quite an impression.”
“Bounty Wars fans are a tight-knit bunch,” Knox says. I take the Jeep’s spot and cut the engine, frowning at the downpour outside my window. We’re as close as we can get to the mall entrance, but we’re still going to get soaked before we make it inside. Knox unclips his seat belt and reaches for his backpack, then straightens and looks at me full-on for the first time since we got into the car. His brown eyes have nice gold flecks in them, which I file away in my Knox Is Going to Be Hot One Day mental folder. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem.” I open my door and duck my head against the rain, but it only hits me for a few seconds before Knox is suddenly at my side, holding an umbrella over both our heads. I grin up at him. “Wow, you’re prepared.”
He smiles back, and I’m glad I rescued him from the fiery pits of health class hell. “Former Boy Scout,” he says as we head for the entrance. “If we need to build a fire later, I can do that too.”