One of Us Is Next(57)
“Would it be an easier decision if he could stay local? He’d still have to travel a ton, obviously, but at least he’d be close to home.”
I don’t mean Bayview, exactly, and I think Kris knows that. He allows himself a small smile. “It might.”
I smile back through a tangle of conflicting emotions. On one hand, it feels strange to be here with dozens of other Bayview High students in such a cheerful atmosphere, two weeks after Brandon died. On the other, it’s a relief to be focused on something positive for a change. I’m happy for Kris and Cooper, because they deserve every good thing, and I’m excited about their future.
Not so much about mine, though.
I push up the sleeve of my long-sleeved T-shirt to trace the outline of another bruise. I feel like a peach left too long on a windowsill, right before it collapses on itself. Deceptively smooth on the outside, but slowly rotting at the core.
And then I feel it: moisture trickling through my nose again. Oh no. Not here.
I grab a tissue from my bag and press it against my face, rising to my feet at the same time. “Bathroom,” I say to Kris, stepping over him and Nonny with a murmured apology on my way to the aisle. The steps are clear, with nearly everyone in their seats and focused on Cooper, so I’m able to make my way to the women’s room quickly. I don’t look at the tissue until I’m in a stall with the door locked behind me.
Bright red.
I collapse onto the toilet seat and the tears come, silently but so hard that my shoulders shake. Despite my best efforts at pretending none of this is happening, it is, and I don’t know what to do. I feel isolated, hopeless, terrified, and just plain exhausted. Tears mix with blood as I swipe tissue after tissue over my face, until I finally rip at least three feet of toilet paper out of the dispenser and bury my head in the entire thing.
Both the tears and the nosebleed stop around the same time. I stay where I am for at least another inning, letting my breathing even out and my heart rate slow. Then I stand, flush my mass of tissues and toilet paper, and leave the stall. I splash water on my face at the sink, staring at my reflection in the hazy mirror. Could be worse. My eyes aren’t all that red, and I’m not wearing any makeup to smudge. I run a brush through my tangled hair, wash my hands, and step outside onto the concourse.
The restrooms are around the corner from the concession stand, and the first thing I see is a small knot of familiar faces: Sean, Jules, Monica, and Luis. Jules is wrapped so tightly around Sean that she’s in danger of spilling the tray of snacks he’s holding. Monica keeps touching Luis’s arm, batting her eyelashes at him. They’re all laughing and joking like they’re on the greatest double date of their lives and don’t have a care in the world.
For a second, I hate them all.
“All right, man, thanks,” Luis says, handing something to Sean. “I gotta go.”
Monica gives a flirty little pout. “You’re not leaving, are you?” she asks. “After we bought all these snacks? Somebody has to share the popcorn with me.”
“No way. I wouldn’t miss Coop. I’ll see you guys back in the seats, okay?” The other three turn away, still laughing, and Luis heads in my direction. I should duck into the women’s room again, but my legs refuse to cooperate.
He stops a few feet away when he spots me. “Maeve, hey.” His brow furrows as he looks more closely. “Everything okay?”
Maybe my eyes aren’t quite as normal as I’d hoped. “Fine,” I say. I cross my arms and push away the memory of my crying spell in the bathroom. “He’s an asshole, you know.”
“What?” Luis turns around, like he thinks I’m talking about someone behind him. “Who?”
“Sean. He’s been horrible to Knox and Phoebe and…other people.”
“Oh. Yeah, well, we played ball together, so.” He shrugs like that’s the only explanation needed. My temper spikes and I’m glad for the distraction.
“So you’re bros,” I say sarcastically. “Awesome.”
Luis goes still, his eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”
“It means you all stick together, don’t you? Dudebros unite, and who cares about anyone else.” My skin prickles with residual fear, misplaced anger, and something else I can’t put a name to. “I guess he can do whatever he wants as long as he throws a ball far enough.”
“Dudebro,” Luis says flatly. “That’s what you think of me?”
“That’s what you are.” I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that it feels good to unleash some of the frustration that’s been building inside me for weeks.
His jaw ticks. “I see. Is that why you dropped off the face of the earth?”
“I didn’t—” I pause. Okay, maybe I did. But he didn’t knock himself out looking for me, either. My nose tingles, and dread rushes up my spine. Another nosebleed is going to start again soon, I can tell. “I have to go. Enjoy your popcorn.”
Oh. So that’s the other thing I’m feeling. Jealous.
“Hang on.” Luis’s voice is commanding enough that I pause. His shoulders are squared, his face tense. “I was hoping to run into you tonight. I wanted to get your number, finally.” My heart does a stupid leap despite itself, then crashes back down when he adds, “Now that I know how you feel about dudebros, I won’t bother you, but there’s still something I want to send you. It’s for Knox, actually, but you’re the one here, so.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Can you tell me your number? Once you have these you can go ahead and delete me from your phone or your life or whatever.”