Delicate (23 page)

He drops my arm and it falls limply to my side.

I stand there. Stunned. And watch him walk away.

I try to stay composed. But I can feel the heat burning under my cheeks and the salty tears forming in my eyes. My throat tightens up as I fight them back. I quickly glance around to see if anyone saw our argument, but it looks like we’ve gone unnoticed. I coolly smooth my shirt and hair and walk into class.

I sit down at the empty lab table and stare straight ahead. My mind is racing. It’s on
a
loop, replaying the argument. This one. The others. Too many to keep track of now. I try to block out the image of Trevor in my face, so incensed. Instead, I concentrate on slowing my breathing like I do before a meet. Clear your head, Syd.

I just about have it under control when Grant appears and
,
not surprising
ly
, it picks right back
up. It’s
not logical
that
,
even in my stress, his presence thrills me the way it does. He smiles warmly as he sets his books down. I give a weak smile back and his fades. His eyes narrow, questioning me silently.

He sits and positions his chair close to mine.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers
.
H
is head is tilted right next to mine.

“Just tired, I guess.” I try to sound nonchalant, but doubt that my mediocre acting skills will be enough to fool him.

I cross my arms on the table top and rest my head in them, wishing I could disappear. My hair falls around my face, blocking me from Grant’s gaze. I know it’s a wasted effort. I could put a cement wall between us and he’d still see right through me. He reaches over and lightly brushes the hair away from my eyes. The path that his finger has left on my forehead triggers a chill. His gaze is locked on mine
, h
is eyes, full of worry. I know him. I know he isn’t going to give up. I have to give him something, but if I really start talking, I’ll break down.

I’m teetering. Scared. Alone.

“Fine. It’s just been a bad day already. I don’t really want to talk about it,” I say.

“Understood,” he nods. Relief fills me as he turns to face forward. He’s respectful enough to leave it alone.

Since the school year is wrapping up, there isn’t any new material to cover in class. Mrs. Drez gives us the period to review for our final or study for another class. I skim my notes for several minutes, until the painful silence between me and Grant is too much.

“Thank you, again
,
for the necklace. I really didn’t deserve it,” I say. My words remind me of the card. A smile tugs at his mouth.

“Yes, you do.”

“So, your mom is coming home this weekend?

“Yeah, she’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Does she know?” I ask. “I mean, does she know that you and I are friends?”

Grant nods.

“Is she okay with that?”

“Does it matter?” he asks. I wish it were that simple for me to disregard others
’
opinions. He sighs. “She doesn’t care as long as I don’t interfere with her show. And if I do, well, I don’t care.”

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be nice to have her home.”

“Sure, I guess. What about you? You have your sister’s party tomorrow? What about tonight?”

Not going to the lake with Trevor.

“Nothing, just staying in. My dad had to leave town for work, so I’ll be home with Maisy.”

The rest of the period passes quickly. Rather than rush out of class like I typically do, I gather my things slowly. I hang back, hoping Grant won’t leave and we can walk together. Even if that’s completely crazy.

“Ready?” he asks.

We walk slowly to class. I fight the urge to look over my shoulder. Even if Trevor is around the corner, this is school. He’s not going to cause a huge scene.

“It’s too bad you have to stay home all weekend. You could have come over to meet my mom,” Grant says.

“Ha!” I laugh. “I don’t know much about your mom, but somehow, I doubt she’d be all that interested in meeting me.”

“I’m serious. With her, it’s all about who you know. And you, my dear, are practically famous!” he says with a wink.

“Hardly. And she’s been gone for a long time, right? I don’t think I should intrude.”

He stops for a moment. “You could never be an intrusion.”

The halls are congested with students hurrying to their next class. We take a more leisurely pace. When the crowd becomes too thick for us to walk side by side, Grant pauses to let me walk in front of him, his hand never leaving its protective spot on my hip.

“So, are you going to tell me what had you so upset this morning?” he asks.

“I don’t think so. It’s not worth getting into.” I glance up to gauge his reaction.

“Fair enough. As long as you’re all right.” He nudges me lightly with his broad shoulder. The goosebumps that I feel each time he barely touches me are becoming more familiar and expected.

“You know what? I really am.”

He doesn’t reply.

I stop in the hall and look up at him. His smile has faded.

“What’s the matter?” I ask.

His only reply is to shake his head. The bell rings.

“We’re late,” I say.

Grant reaches for me at the same time someone unexpectedly tugs on my arm. I spin around to investigate the source.

Trevor.

“What the hell are you doing?” he yells. Trevor yanks me backward with a powerful jolt. With little effort on his part, I’m no longer standing next to Grant.

“Let go of her,” Grant says. His words are controlled but firm.

“You, stay the fuck out of it,” Trevor shoots back.
There’s
zero restraint in his voice.

“Let me go,” I plead. I stare at Trevor. I’m trying to see past the anger that encompasses him now.
I’m t
rying to see the person that I’d fallen in love with. The one person that I’d given myself to. If I could just recognize that person, maybe I could relate to him well enough to get him to stop acting like this. But it’s hard to concentrate on anything while his fingers crush into my skin.

“I just want to talk to you,” he says. I can’t respond.

“I don’t think so,” Grant says. He’s beside me again.

Grant is several inches taller than Trevor and he’s glaring down at him with an intensity that I’ve never seen in him before. If Trevor doesn’t let go of me, Grant will make him. His eyes prove it.

Trevor finally relents and drops my arm. I feel it tingle and throb as the blood starts flowing through my veins again.

“Can we please go and talk. You and me?” Trevor asks. His voice is calmer now. Surely a side effect of Grant’s presence.

“Yeah, there’s no way in
hell
that’s going to happen,” Grant says. Trevor shoots him another challenging look.

This is not happening. This can’t be happening.

“It’s okay,” I say. This has to stop. “I’ll be okay.”

I look at Grant. He shakes his head back and forth repeatedly.

“Really,” I press.

“Syd, I can’t just—” Grant begins.

“She said she’s fine,” Trevor interrupts. His hand reaches out for mine. I don’t want to take it. I don’t want to touch him.

He doesn’t give me
chills
.
I don’t feel protected by his touch—
i
nstead, I’ve come to fear it. But
,
stubbornly, I want to convince Grant that I’ll be all right. I want him to leave. I don’t want him to see this part of my life. The messy part. He’s already too involved in all of this drama as it is.

“You’re late for class,” I say to Grant. He continues to stare at me; his face is full of pain and doubt.

I hesitantly take Trevor’s outstretched palm, as the final sign that I’m really okay. That I’m where I want to be, and with who I want to be with. This farce hurts me more than any of the other acts I’ve had to keep up the last few months. This is the hardest to fake. I’m the only one of the three of us that knows for sure that it’s not true.

The pain in Grant’s face as he concede
s
and walks away rips at my heart
, s
hred
s
it. Grant doesn’t turn
around
as he walks away from us. He backs away, like it’s against everything in him to leave me standing there. With this person he knows ha
s
hurt me. And maybe will again.

I feel myself deflate when Grant is forced to turn a corner and I can no longer see him.

But I can finally drop the act, and Trevor’s hand.

“What?” I ask. I force authority to fill my normally meek voice. But my arms, hugging my own chest in a futile attempt to conceal the fact that I’m shaking
,
contradicts the sound. The halls are vacant. Just me and Trevor. I’m seriously starting to doubt my decision to send Grant away.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Trevor says. His voice is shaky and tense. He looks like he might cry. But really, I’ve almost come to expect the theatrics from him.

“Okay.” Is all that I can offer in response.

“Really, Syd. I was disappointed. I’m sorry that I upset you.”

The same boyish face that I longed to forgive a year ago is back. The one who said he loved me and wiped away any doubt I had in us. How did we end up here?

“Forgive me?” He reaches out and tilts my chin up. But I pull back and look at the ground. I can’t meet his eyes. I can’t say what I need to say while I’m looking at him. I’m a coward.

“Look Trevor.” My voice is barely audible. “I think we may need a little—”

“No,” he cuts me off indignantly.

“Trevor—” I start again.

“No, Syd. Don’t even say it. The last thing we need is time. Or space. Or whatever generic bullshit line you’re about to feed me. Don’t do this.”

“Let’s just take the weekend…”

“Syd. I fucking love you. Don’t do this because of him.”

“This isn’t about anyone but
you and
me
.”

A door opens and Quinn walks out, holding a long stick labeled “bathroom pass.” She stops several yards away from us and
stares,
eyebrows up, glaring at Trevor.

“Syd?” Her concerned eyes dart back and forth between Trevor and
me
. “Everything okay?”