Breakable (14 page)

She was with her friend, again, and that friend was
watching me. Jacqueline was decisively
not
watching me. But they were talking, animatedly, and Jacqueline was blushing so hard I could see the blotchy pink of her cheeks from a dozen feet away. With effort, I turned to make the coffee, but the hairs on my arms stood up. My entire body was aware of her eyes on me.

My forearms were fully visible, and she hadn’t seen my tattoos before. That night, in her truck, she’d stared at my lip ring and I’d known that she was one of those girls who shied away from guys like me on principle. I looked like a poster boy for a bad life choice. From her mode of dress, I knew she was a preppy sort of girl, as were her friends. And her ex. Hell, if someone stood me next to that asswipe who’d attacked her and asked the general populace which one the rapist was, I’d get a helluva lot more votes.

Even so, she was watching me now. On the dance floor Saturday night, she’d come into my arms as though she felt safe, against all better judgement. She was confused, but curious. Interested. I felt that one truth in the pit of my stomach, and it was gripping and unnerving. I wanted her attention. Her full attention. And I meant to get it.

I popped
start
on the coffee and turned to the register next to Eve without looking up. As soon as Eve took the guy in front of Jacqueline, I shifted my eyes up to meet hers. ‘Next?’ She blinked as though I’d caught her misbehaving, but came closer. ‘Jacqueline,’ I said, as though I’d just noticed her. ‘Americano today, or something else?’

She was surprised I’d remembered what she’d ordered a week ago. I would happily catalogue her likes and dislikes.
Every one of them. From how she took her coffee, to how she liked to be kissed, to what stroke to use where to make her shiver from head to toe.

She nodded. I grabbed a cup and a Sharpie, but I pulled the espresso and made her drink myself.

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
un
acceptable.’

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.

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 fuck.’ 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.

‘Mr Wynn has decided to demonstrate what happens when someone violates the class rule concerning keeping all four legs of our lab stools firmly and
safely
on the ground.’ Mr Quinn sighed loudly. The rest of the class chuckled as Boyce righted his stool and sat, scowling.

‘Assclown,’ Melody muttered.

‘Do you need
medical
assistance, Mr Wynn?’ Mr Quinn pressed, enjoying the moment of interest and popularity his lectures never generated.

‘No, sir, Mr Quinn. My ass – and other important parts – are all in working order. It’s just OMFG hot in here. Holy
hell
.’ The class roared with laughter and Mr Quinn attempted to restore order.

Melody narrowed her pale eyes at him, and one second later they went wide in realization. Her gaze snapped to me and her lips fell apart as her face flamed red. I stared at her glossy pink lips and then back into her eyes. Grabbing her notebook, she slammed the cover shut and turned round with it in her hands.

I punched Boyce again, he fell off his stool again, and Quinn sent us to the office with yellow slips that would result in detention.

‘Jesus, Wynn.’ I twitched the hair out of my eyes as we left the classroom.

‘What? You didn’t wanna know that your favourite little piece of ass thinks you’re –’

I turned and slammed him into a locker and he threw his hands up. ‘Fuck me. Dude, don’t go losin’ your shit over a girl like her –’

‘And Pearl Frank is any different?’ I shot back, turning to march towards the office – and Ingram, who’d be thrilled shitless to see the two of us, no doubt.

He sighed and followed, our boots echoing in the otherwise empty hallway. ‘I’m realistic, man. I just wanna do her. I know I can’t have more than that.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh, but
doing her
is completely possible.’

He grinned. ‘Hell, yeah. I’m Boyce Fucking Wynn. Anything is possible.’

I couldn’t help but laugh, pulling the office door open. He didn’t even hear what he’d just said. In one breath he insisted that all we were to girls like Melody and Pearl was a good fuck, and in the next, anything was possible.

I was holding out for the latter.

‘Ain’t you ’bout to be sixteen?’ Grandpa said to me, the night before my birthday.

‘Yeah, Grandpa.’ I waited for the punch line. With Grandpa, there was almost always a punch line to these sorts of queries.

‘I didn’t know if you were wantin’ a flouncy pink dress
or somethin’ to go with that earring.’ He chuckled to himself and I smirked.

‘Pink’s not really my colour. But thanks.’

He was showing me his secret weapon to chewy box brownies – adding one less egg.

‘Your grandmother never could figure out how my brownies came out better’n hers,’ he said, and I laughed.

‘You kept your secret a secret from Grandma?’ My father’s mother had died when Dad was in high school, so I’d never known her.

‘Hell, yeah, I did! She did try to wheedle it outta me, God love her.’ His eyes glazed over, reminiscing. I stared into the bowl and beat the ingredients together, giving him his private moment. As I stirred, he leaned closer. ‘The ladies love chocolate. Don’t ever forget that, boy. If you can provide
homemade
chocolate, all the better. This secret will getcha out of the doghouse, guaranteed. Mark my words.’

‘Grandpa – this isn’t actually homemade.’

He harrumphed. ‘Close enough.’ I layered the creamy mixture into the pan he’d made me butter with my bare hands – which was kind of gross. ‘That butter’ll crisp it up. Get it into all the corners,’ he’d said.

Once they were baking, he asked, ‘What we were talkin’ about? Oh, yeah. Your ever-advancin’ age.’ He snickered and I rolled my eyes when he wasn’t looking.
Still waiting for that punch line
.

‘I was thinkin’ that tomorrow, we ought to start you learnin’ how to drive.’ My mouth fell open. When I didn’t reply, he said, ‘’Less you don’t want to.’

‘I want to!’ I answered, jerking out of my stupor. ‘I just … I didn’t think you and Dad would –’

‘Don’t get too excited. Ain’t no muscle car behind this proposal. Just my old Ford truck, when I’m not using it. Figured you might wanna go on a date or somethin’ – as long as it’s not with that Boyce Wynn. You can do better’n him.’ He laughed to himself again, and this time, I joined in, shaking my head.

‘Thanks, Grandpa. That’d be awesome.’

He shuffled down the counter and pulled a driver’s handbook from the drawer next to the cutlery, full of secrets tonight. ‘Start learnin’ the rules, and I’ll alert the populace to vacate the back roads this weekend.’ He grinned and patted my shoulder, leaving the kitchen, and I stepped into my pantry room, flopped on to the bed, and opened the book, listening for the brownie timer.

Mr Quinn walked table to table, assigning diseases. ‘Each team will identify how their particular disease is caused – genetic, viral, bacterial, chemical, et cetera. I want to know if there are methods of prevention, if there are known or debated treatments, and whether or not it’s contagious.’

The table next to us was assigned anthrax. We got lactose intolerance.

‘What the hell kind of lame-ass –’

‘Mr Wynn, I’ll thank you to keep your language deficiencies to yourself.’

‘But, Mr Quinn –
lactose intolerance
? What kinda
disease
is that? People who get the sharts when they drink milk?’ The class erupted into howls while Melody stared at Boyce with homicidal intent and Pearl covered her eyes, elbows on the table, sighing. Our teacher’s face screwed into a knot of exasperation. Predictably, none of that deterred my friend. ‘Stop drinkin’ milk – problem solved! Can’t we have something like, I dunno, Ebola?’

Quinn returned to the front as the bell rang. ‘Start your research tonight, and be ready to debate your findings within your team tomorrow!’ he called over the shuffling as we all headed for lunch.

‘
How
can you be friends with that idiot?’ Melody asked as we pressed towards the exit.

I lifted a shoulder and smiled down at her, catching the edge of the door and holding it open. ‘He’s entertaining?’

She conceded with a tilt of her head. ‘If you’re amused by complete idiocy.’ She started to return my smile, but it vanished when her boyfriend dropped his arm over her shoulders the moment we entered the hall. He was usually waiting for her after class.

‘Hey, babe.’ He fixed me with a look. ‘Hey, emo freak. Get your dick pierced yet?’

‘
Clark
,’ Melody gasped as we entered the flow of students, most of us eager to escape campus for half an hour.

‘Why are you so fascinated by my dick, Richards?’ I asked.

He turned round and then glanced over my shoulder, where I knew Boyce was. ‘Fuck off, freak,’ he said, leading Melody down the east hall, towards the parking lot.

‘I think Richards needs a new repertoire.’ I watched the sway of Melody’s hips, her boyfriend’s arm round her neck like a collar.

‘Huh?’ Boyce arched a brow. ‘You know he’s buyin’ from Thompson now, right?’

I laughed. ‘Perfect. So he’s a hypocrite as well as a douche.’

‘Dude. Coulda told you that years ago.’ He knocked knuckles with a friend over the heads of a couple of girls as I watched Melody and Clark disappear through the far door. ‘Did I tell you he tried to pay me to fuck you up again?’

I pulled to a full stop and a freshman slammed into me, bounced off, and sprawled on his ass. Reaching down, I grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet, guessing he had every textbook he’d been assigned in that backpack. He weighed twice what he should.

‘What’d you tell him?’ I asked Boyce as the freshman stammered a thank-you and scurried away.

Boyce grinned, one brow arched. ‘Told him to go fuck himself, of course.’

Jacqueline didn’t text or call me, so I concluded that either (a) she hadn’t seen the number on her cup or (b) she saw it and wasn’t interested in talking to me.

Considering that she’d volunteered her name and asked mine, I didn’t think she was indifferent.

She emailed Landon, but her message was economics-related only. Or so it seemed on the face of it. She mentioned going out with friends Saturday. When I replied, I referred to that comment:
I hope you enjoyed your night out
. A night out I knew all about. She wouldn’t tell
Landon
any more about her Saturday night, of course … but I wanted her to. With every exchange, I dug myself a bigger hole, but I couldn’t stop digging.

Then I alluded to her breakup, and the fact that I’d never meant to be rude by acting as if I didn’t want to know the details. Between the written lines, I urged,
Tell me
, but I didn’t expect her to answer that unwritten directive – to reveal such an unprotected part of herself.

With one paragraph, she laid it all at my feet – the amount of time they’d been together. The fact that she’d followed him here to school, instead of auditioning for a prestigious music programme far away. The way she blamed herself, completely, for being stupid. For believing in him.