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“Fine,” he says. “Colt, you go with her.”

Nick nods. I bite my lip. Coach says, “What? That not okay with you?”

“No,” I mutter. “It’s good.”

Everyone else partners up and Coach Walsh sets us out two-by-two. “Easy runs today. No PRs.”

“That means personal record,” Megan says.

I touch my toes. “I know what it means.”

We’re the last group to go. Nick stays a step or so behind me the whole time and it drives me crazy, like I’m not good enough to run alongside or something.

“Do you have to run behind me?” I finally say when we’re long-legging it up a hill that twists through the forest.

“It bother you?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not checking out your butt or anything.”

I stop. He rams into me and we both topple down. My arms go to break my fall, but I don’t have to. His right arm loops around my rib cage and he rolls us so that his back takes most of the fall. I’m on top of him. For a second his arm doesn’t move. When it does I push myself up. He stands up too, turning around, trying to figure things out, I guess.

His voice is a bark. “What are you doing?”

“Checking out your butt,” I tease, and then I leave him behind me, sprinting across the field so the coach can register my time and I can go home.

We all hang around, stretching, sort of, while the coach does coach things that involve muttering beneath his breath and checking his clipboard.

Ian walks over next to me and smiles. He pulls his leg up toward his butt, stretching out his quads. I reach for my toes but don’t actually touch the ground because it’s cold and snowy.

“Nick giving you a hard time?” he asks.

I grunt and reach up toward the sky.

“I think he likes you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He’s a loner though. He’s never had a girlfriend.”

“Seriously?”

Ian raises his hand. “I swear.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

lan’s foot thuds back to the ground. I glance over at Nick. He’s walking in circles, not even pretending to stretch. Nick stomps over, doesn’t even glance at Ian.

“I think I should follow you home, make sure your car doesn’t slide off the road,” he says.

“I’m not going home.”

Nick cocks his head to one side. “What?”

“I’m taking her to the
DMV
, so she can get her car registered,” Ian says. He’s standing right next to me, smelling like cologne.

Nick’s nostrils flare. He looks at me. “Oh. Okay. I’ll see you later then, Zara. Be careful on the road, okay? It’s icy.”

“But the snow was melting earlier.”

“It melts for, like, a second and turns to water and then it freezes. It’s called black ice. It’s dangerous, so just be careful, okay?”

“Okay.” I watch him walk away. Every single cell in my body wants me to run after him, no matter how tired I am.

That night I pad down the stairs into the living room and there’s Grandma Betty standing at the front window again. Her hand holding the drape shakes. She stares outside into the dark.

“Oh, Jesus…,” she mumbles.

I touch her shoulder. She jumps, whirls around, almost growls, eyes flashing.

“Gram? What is it?”

“You scared the bejesus out of me.”

“Sorry.”

She puts her hands up to her heart.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” she says. She forces a smile. “I have to go call your mother. We owe her a call. How about you get started on dinner? I bought one of those precooked rotisserie chickens from Shaw’s and a box of stuffing.”

“Gram?”

“Everything is under control, Zara. Don’t you worry about a dotty old woman staring into the night.”

Yeah, right. I peek out the window. Darkness greets me.

“Why isn’t Nick hanging out with us?” I ask lssie and Devyn in PE.

lssie and I are lounging around waiting for the PE teacher, Coach Walsh, to show up. According to Devyn, he’s in the locker room, hollering at Ian about something. We just sit on the lower bleachers and wait.

Devyn’s fingers tap against the side of the chair. “I think he’s just trying not to draw attention to you. You know if he likes you then everyone notices you. Plus, it’s just part of his image. He’s all bad boy.”

“Sexy stud with a heart of stern,” lssie banters. She starts tying her sneaker.

Her fingers fumble around. I kneel down in front of her and start tying them for her. “You guys are cute,” I say.

Devyn laughs. His dimples show. Whenever his dimples show lssie starts blushing like crazy.

“Sexy stud with a heart of stern,” he repeats what lssie said while I start on her next shoe. “That’s brilliant.”

“He’s never even kissed a girl, so I don’t think that one works,” lssie says.

My insides stop working for a second. “Seriously? C’mon, how would you even know that?”

“He told Devyn. Devyn told me,” lssie says. “So that one doesn’t work. Okay. Moving on. How about hometown hero with high standards?”

“Hometown hero?” I say, yanking at the knot. “Nick?”

Devyn shrugs. “I think so. He saved me.”

I raise my eyebrows and start to ask how, but Megan slinks over, all sexified in her tiny shorts and tank top with spaghetti straps. Spaghetti straps are a violation of the school dress code, not like Megan cares. Coach Walsh obviously doesn’t care either.

Something in my throat tightens as Megan stands above me, blocking my view of Nick.

She smiles.

I do not trust that smile.

lssie coughs and twists her hands together. I slip a fingernail into the knot in lssie’s laces, and loosen the knot, as if I have all the time in the world. Then I look up and meet Megan’s eyes. They don’t match her smile. She obviously is not a good enough actress to make them friendly.

“Zara?” She twists a long lock of strawberry-blond hair around her perfect finger. “You’re from Charleston, right?”

I nod and wait for it to come.

“It must be hard adjusting to Bedford,” she says.

I glance at Devyn. He gives me sympathetic eyes.

“It’s okay.”

“Some people never adjust, you know,” she says.

“That’s not true,” lssie says. “Thanks for getting the knot out, Zara.”

Megan glares at her. “Yes it is. Some people can’t fit in.”

I start working on tying the lace. One rabbit ear. Another rabbit ear. Done.

“Why would I [_want _]to fit in?” I cross my arms in front of my chest.

Megan steps closer to me and bends a little so her face is close to my face. She’s put white mascara on her eyelashes, which makes her blue eyes a little creepy. It’s not a good look for her. “You obviously don’t want to since you keep hanging out with these freaks. Wheelchair boy and hyper girl.”

She starts walking away but I reach out and grab her by the arm. It’s icy and cold. “What did you say?”

She doesn’t answer. My fingernails make half moons on her skin, but I don’t loosen my hold. I say, “Don’t threaten my friends. And don’t insult them.”

Ripping her arm out of my grasp, she stares me down. Then she flounces her hair back over her shoulder and says, all condescending, “Oh, little princess. It’s not me you need to be scared of.”

She bounds up the bleachers to go sit with her people. They all start doing the popular girl laugh. I ignore them. She yells down, “You know all that peace and love crap went out decades ago. And John Lennon is dead.”

“You’re shaking.” Devyn says. “Zara, it’s okay. Sit down.”

I look down at my T-shirt. Something inside me breaks a little and I must gasp or something because Issie grabs my hand and tugs on it. I can’t figure out how to sit down. Why would I want to sit down with her staring at me? I want to run, to just get away from here. Where can I run? I start looking for ways to escape. My breath pants out and my heart beats eight hundred beats a second, I swear.

“Zara…,” Devyn repeats. “It’s okay.”

“I grabbed her,” I manage to say. “I never grab people. Never.”

Issie opens her mouth, a little panicked looking, but then Coach Walsh saunters into the gym with Ian. Ian runs ahead and stands by me.

“I’ll be your partner for the sit-ups,” he says. “Hold your feet.”

I nod. “Sure. Fine. Uh… Megan won’t be cool with that.”

“So?” He stares hard at me. He has little crinkle lines by his eyes.

“So, you’re friends and everything and I don’t want her to get mad at you.”

“Megan isn’t my keeper, Zara.”

I eye him, struggle to find words to fit together. “Yeah, uh, right. Urn. That okay with you, lssie?”

“Yep.” She scrambles up. Her shoes, I must mention, are beautifully tied, with no laces flopping on the floor. “Devyn, can I tuck my feet under the sides of your wheels? Will you count for me?”

“Anytime,” Devyn says. His dimples show. lssie starts blushing. Again. I wish I could be that cute with someone.

Ian puts his arm around my shoulders and steers me to a spot on the mat. “So, Megan’s giving you a hard time.”

“I’m fine,” I say as I settle into sit-up position on the mat. It smells like wrestler sweat and chalk. Ian scowls. I don’t know if it’s at me or at her.

I glance to my side where Nick and Megan work on their crunches. Nick whispers something to her and her face scrunches up, annoyed. If he likes me why is he helping Megan? Whispering to her? If he’s friends with lssie and Devyn how can he even talk to her? lssie is so clueless sometimes. My heart stabs at me a little bit for some stupid reason. I do not like Nick Colt. I will not like Nick Colt. Or, maybe I’m afraid of liking him.

“Hey, Ian,” I say, pulling up to look at him. He has nice teeth, really white and even. “lssie and I are starting this Amnesty International school chapter. We write letters to try to free political prisoners and stuff. You want to join?”

“What do I get in return?”

I slam back to the floor and up again, faster and faster. “My undying respect?”

“Good enough,” he says. “And maybe you’ll go out with me Friday?”

I smile at him and we switch off. I hold his feet and wonder what he’d think about our pixie theory, what he thinks about the Beardsley boy. He could be in danger too. Every single guy in here could be in danger.

“Well?”

I finally answer him. “Maybe.”

It’s not like I have a chance with Nick anyway.

“So, I hear you think I’m ignoring you,” Nick says, folding himself into a chair at the cafeteria table.

My mouth must drop open, because Devyn reaches over and pushes my chin back into place while he says, “Uh-oh.”

Issie cringes and leaps out of her seat. “Oops. Sorry. I’m going to go get a cookie. Anyone want a cookie?”

No one answers. Issie pulls on Devyn’s arm. “Devyn, I [_know you _]want to help me get a cookie.”

“What?” He finally gets it and he throws his napkin on the table. It flops there, dead. “Oh, right.”

“They’ve abandoned me,” I say.

“Us,” Nick corrects. “They just don’t want us to fight.”

“I don’t want to fight either. I hate fighting.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Why do you look all surprised?”

“Because I’d say you like fighting.”

“You obviously don’t know me well.”

“I’d say you like fighting but you hate that you like it.”

“Oh, thank you, wise one.”

“You handled Megan today.”

I run my hand over my eyes. “That was horrible.”

“You didn’t slug her.”

“I grabbed her arm, and I never grab people’s arms.”

“She was attacking your friends.”

“Yeah. She was. And then you helped her with her sit-ups. That was rude of you.”

“Why was it rude?”

“Because they’re your friends too. It’s like you went all traitor or something.”

He shakes his head. His hair flops over his ears a little. A muscle twitches near his jaw. “Zara, I would never go traitor.”

“It’s okay. She’s pretty.”

“I was talking to her. I was telling her to leave them alone. Leave you alone.”

I stab at a piece of lettuce. My fork pierces all the way through but when I bring the fork up to my mouth the lettuce rips, flutters down. Everything seems to be fluttering down: Devyn’s napkin, the lettuce, my heart, my ego, my everything. When I talk again my voice is soft. “I just don’t like that I grabbed her arm. I don’t like that I had to yell at her. I hate yelling. I’m not into conflict. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never hurt anyone for any reason…”

He leans away. “What? Like you wouldn’t attack the creep who keeps pointing at you?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I could hurt someone else.”

“C’mon, Zara. You don’t value yourself that little, do you?” He leans back. His thigh touches my thigh. Neither of us move away.

“That’s not it. I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s more like, who am I to decide that my life is worth more than someone else’s?” It tingles where our legs meet.

A cafeteria light flickers and makes a buzzing noise high above us. Trays clatter in the background. People murmur about tests and dates and here we are talking about this.

He smells like the woods. I try not to smell him; it makes me dizzy. I try to focus.

He’s talking. “You wouldn’t attack a person who was trying to kidnap someone? Or hurting a baby? Or-”

“Enough,” I interrupt. “I don’t know if I would, okay? I mean, I know all about self-defense and everything, but I don’t know if I could do it, if it’s morally right to do it.”

“You’d do it.” He grins, so certain he’s right. “If someone was attacking lssie you’d do it. If someone was attacking your grandmother you’d do it. Or Devyn. Or probably even Ian.”

My eyes close. This is probably true. “I don’t want that to be true.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be violent.” “It’s not violent to protect your friend.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like someone’s going to go attack Issie.”

“We don’t know that,”

“What? You think Is is in danger?”

“No.” He raises his hands up in the air. “I think we’re all in danger.”

“From that guy? The pointing guy? You think he’s seriously bad?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I do.”