Eve cocked a double-pierced brow at me, because she knew what I’d just done. ‘In the habit of handing out your digits to sorority chicks?’ she murmured. ‘Lame.’
‘There’s a first time for everything.’
Shaking her head, she wiped the espresso valves and dumped two shots into a grande cup. ‘No, actually, there’s not.’
I shrugged. ‘True enough. Is it acceptable if she’s not a sorority chick?’
Her lips twisted, and I got the feeling she was making a concerted effort not to smile. ‘No. But less unacceptable.’
As Eve and I took orders and began to whittle the line down, I didn’t allow myself to watch Jacqueline cross to the condiment stand to get her three sugars and splash of milk. I knew exactly where she was, every second, but I ignored her until she walked through the door, at which point I couldn’t watch anything else.
‘Oh, dear God. Someone’s got it bad.’ Eve laughed, which made the guy across the counter smile at her.
He was wearing a Pike T-shirt.
‘What?’ she barked, glaring at him.
His smile disappeared and he threw up his hands. ‘Nothin’ – just … nice laugh. That’s all.’
She rolled her eyes and spun to grab a new carton of soy milk, ignoring him.
When he looked at me, blond brows arched, I shrugged. I didn’t know the girl’s history, but there was no crossing that explosives-laden barrier. She was barely civil to me half the time, and she liked me.
12
Landon
When spring semester began, I found myself in fourth-period biology with Melody Dover and Pearl Frank – who’d been Pearl Torres, fellow occupant of the middle-school loser lunch table, when I was in eighth grade and she was in seventh. Then her mom married Dr Thomas Frank, prominent local surgeon and one of the town’s most stubborn playboy bachelors – until he met his match in Esmeralda Torres, who wanted a big diamond on her finger and her daughter set for life.
She got both.
Pearl, who’d been a nerdy, awkward kid when I knew her, took a few summer-school courses to skip ninth grade altogether, got a makeover and a shitload of brand-name clothes, and arrived in tenth grade hotter and richer than she’d ever been.
Melody lost no time in making Pearl her new best friend.
They exchanged a less than euphoric look when they were assigned to the only half-empty lab table – Boyce’s and mine.
‘So why are y’all in bio this period now? Get kicked out for bein’ too sexy in class?’ he asked.
They both rolled eyes at him and I shook my head and stared at the scarred black table, trying not to crack a smile. He’d been batshit for Pearl the minute he’d noticed her in the hallway last September. Too bad he hadn’t paid her any attention in middle school, when she had no friends. She was returning the favour now.
‘No, dumbass,’ Melody said, cocking her head at him. ‘We both made the dance squad, which meets last period. That’s when we had bio last semester, so we had to switch. Lucky us.’
Her glance flicked over me then, taking swift inventory of the tats peeking from the sleeves of my thermal henley, the bar through my eyebrow and the stud in my ear. For the space of one second, our eyes met before hers slid away.
‘Jesus, Dover – no need to be hostile,’ Boyce chuckled.
She glared, objecting to being called by her last name, I’d guess – especially by Boyce, who’d admitted to me that he’d called her Rover Dover all through elementary school. Having pretty much burned every bridge he crossed, our friendship was like a malfunction of his usually deficient people skills.
Our table was at the back of the classroom. Boyce and I leaned against the wall, stools tipping on to two legs in defiance of classroom policy. Mr Quinn either didn’t notice the infraction or didn’t care to confront us. Melody and Pearl had to turn round to face the front of the classroom, leaving their notebooks and bags on the table, vulnerable to Boyce’s inspection.
The girls had been writing back and forth in Melody’s spiral, and when they turned their backs, Boyce slid the notebook to our side of the table to read it.
‘Cut it out, man,’ I whispered. ‘What the f**k.’ I moved to push it back, but he held an elbow up, blocking me.
Eyes wide, he pointed to the feminine scrawl that I recognized as Melody’s. I shook my head, and his brows elevated. ‘Look, dude. Seriously.’
I scanned the page and read, Is it just me, or is Landon Maxfield OMFG HOT this year??? Holy. HELL.
But you have CLARK, Pearl had written beneath this pronouncement.
Melody replied, I can look, can’t I? Switch chairs with me. I want to sit across from him.
I glanced at the back of Melody’s head, her silky blonde hair hanging straight and heavy down her back to brush the tabletop. It covered her ears today, hiding the side of her face from view. She remained diagonally across the table from me. Pearl had shaken her head, frowning, at some point in this written conversation – probably here. There was no reply from her in the notebook.
Dangit, Pearl. What kind of wingwoman are you? Melody wrote.
The kind that will keep you from making a big mistake. Duh. Pearl replied.
I rotated the notebook and pushed it back where it had been, my thoughts spinning, while Boyce pretended to grab his dick and whack off, complete with facial expressions of ecstasy. I punched him in the arm and his stool unbalanced itself and slid out from under him, crashing to the ground and making us the centre of attention. Landing on his feet, he tried to punch me back, but I brought my stool forward and leaned out of his reach.