Shielding Lily (3 page)

T
he new girl walks in
, and I recognize her. Well, not her, but her coat. She’s the woman I saw walking this morning. I wonder if that’s why she’s late. Maybe she had car trouble. I can’t get a good look at her since her head is down, but that’s her.

I don’t catch what Mr. Cole says to her, but I see Kristen give me a look and a wink before she takes her seat. But I don’t pay her any attention because the new girl has all of it. She walks down the aisle right beside where I’m sitting and takes the empty desk next to me. I sit up and look over at her, watching as she takes her coat off. She’s small, and I wonder for a second if she skipped a couple of grades. My eyes trail down what I can see and check her out. She’s probably only five feet tall, with wavy white-blonde hair. She fumbles with the buttons of her jacket, and I wonder if her hands are cold. Something in me wants to reach over and hold them so they warm up. She’s wearing a jean dress and my eyes trail down her legs, seeing the knee of her leggings are torn. Then I start to wonder if she fell, because I can see a small scratch where the fabric is missing. At least she’s wearing winter boots and I don’t have to worry about her feet.

As my eyes move back up to her face, she turns her head and looks at me. I feel my pulse speed up as our eyes connect and we stare at one another. Her big blue eyes are doe-like. So perfect and round with thick, black lashes around them. Her cheeks are pink and her lips are rosy, and I have the incredible urge to kiss them. I’ve never felt this kind of attraction to anyone before, and it takes me by surprise.

She looks away nervously, and I realize I’ve been staring at her like a creep for a solid minute. I feel bad that I made her nervous, and I want to make it right.

Sitting up in my chair, I lean towards her, and whisper as quietly as I can. “Hey.”

She looks at me and then looks up at the teacher. My eyes glance in Mr. Cole’s direction, but he’s in his own world, giving a lecture about King Lear and the importance of Shakespeare. He’s not so much as spoken ten words to me in the past six months, and I doubt he’s going to start now.

Seeing that the teacher doesn’t notice anything, she looks over at me in confusion.

“You okay?” I say, looking down at her knee. I don’t want to go full stalker on her and tell her I saw her on the side of the road, but I have this overwhelming desire to make sure she’s all right.

She reaches down with one hand, covering the tear in her tights, and nods at me. After a silent moment, I see her pull out a notebook and pen. She opens them up and starts to take notes. I lean back in my seat, clearly dismissed, but I keep my eyes on her. I watch every movement of her small fingers and the way she holds her pen. She’s left-handed, and for some reason I like that. Occasionally she pushes a strand of hair away from her face, and I look on with fascination.

I want to ask her questions, which is weird, because normally I avoid talking to anyone. It’s not that I’m not interested in things, I can just usually find them out for myself. Small talk with assholes in the locker room who compare the girls they fucked, or girls who try to get with me because of what I can provide for them, don’t interest me. And yet for some reason, this girl has my attention. She seems like she needs someone to watch out for her, and I’m starting to take a personal interest in that.

Before I know it, the bell rings, and I realize I’ve been staring at her the whole time. I sit up and move closer to her, intending to ask her a question, when I’m nearly hit in the face by a cheerleading uniform.

“Hi, Ren. Looking good today. Want to sneak off campus with me for lunch? I was thinking of hitting Joe’s for a burger,” Kristen says, leaning down towards me.

“No thanks.” I stand up and grab my backpack, trying to move around her.

“You sure? We could take the afternoon off and you can take a spin behind my new Mercedes. My dad got it for me for my eighteenth birthday last week. I’m legal now.” She winks at me, but it does nothing to make me want to go with her. Besides not wanting her, that car is impractical in this kind of weather.

“No.” I grit out wanting Kristen to get lost. The blonde stands up and grabs her coat, and I don't know how much more time I have. “Hey, I’m Ren.”

Her big blue eyes meet mine for a second, and then she looks down.

“Lily.” The one word is spoken so softly and sweetly I almost don’t hear it.

“Yeah, this is Lily Parker. The new girl. Must really suck starting a new school halfway through the year,” Kristen says and elbows her like they’re best friends. “Want to walk with us to her next class, Ren? We can drop her off and you can walk me to Spanish.”

I want to say no, because I don’t want to go with Kristen, but I do want to talk to Lily. She looks at Kristen and then up to me before looking away quickly. She’s silent, so I nod, and Kristen bounces on her feet.

“Sweet. Let’s get out of here.”

I walk out beside Lily and see her pull out a piece of paper. I see it’s a class schedule and I try to read it as we walk. Kristen is talking, but I don’t pay attention to what she’s saying, I just keep watching Lily for even the smallest movements.

I reach to Lily and hold my hand out and wait for her to give me her schedule. She hesitates for a second and then hands it to me. I see we’ve both got Advanced Calculus next. After that we’ve got lunch, then Physics, and a free last period. I smile at her and hand it back, wondering how I got so fucking lucky.

“I’ll take her, Kristen. We’ve got the same schedule today.” I see a ghost of a smile on Lily’s lips, and we fall into step together.

When we walk down another hall, I realize that Kristen left us as some point without my noticing.

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lily says softly and holds her jacket to her chest.

“Sure.” I grab the door and hold it open for her as she walks through. I point to the seats in the back.

“Is there always an empty seat next to you?” she asks as she drops her bag down beside her.

“Not anymore.”

I
can feel
his eyes on me through class. My normally downcast eyes have to fight to stay that way, because I want to look at him. I try to concentrate on what the teacher is saying and follow along as he maps out the math problem on the board. But all I manage to do is copy his work from the smartboard onto my paper, all his words going in one ear and out the other.

I give in and glance over at Ren, and he gives me a half-smile, showing off his perfect teeth. I snap my head back down to my paper, and all the numbers on the page look like a freaking mess. I hear him move his desk a little closer to mine. The thing lets out a groan, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. I’m not sure how he fits in it.

Ren isn’t small by any means. He doesn’t look like a high school student, although he still has some softness in his face that is partially obscured by stubble. I know he’s the same guy Kristen and Carrie were talking about in the office this morning. The one who got the football scholarship they all were wanting a piece of. He definitely looks like he belongs on a football field, snapping people in half and bursting through walls of bodies, but even with his size, for some odd reason I’m not intimidated by him. In fact, he put me at ease when he offered to take me to the next class.

When the bell finally rings, I stand and put everything away in my bag, wondering what to do next. I know I need to find the library. Looking over, I see Ren does the same, but he reaches down and grabs my coat.

“Lunch?” he asks. I reach to take my coat from his hands, but he shakes his head, then takes my backpack from me, too.

“No, I’m not going to lunch,” I protest, wanting to go to the library instead. I don’t like to waste my money on food if I don’t have to. Lunch is a meal I can skip. I need to see about finding some kind of job or something. I try to take my coat from him, giving a little tug. It only makes him smile even more at me. His dark brown eyes are filled with humor, and I can tell what he’s thinking. No way I’m getting this thing from him unless he wants to hand it over.

I stare up at him, still not a lick of unease within me, even with him dwarfing me.

“You have to eat. You’re tiny.”

My cheeks warm, feeling a little embarrassed at being criticized. It’s something I should be used to by now, but it still hurts.

“I don’t mean it like that. I just mean you’re small and you can’t get any smaller.” He fumbles over his words. “Shit. I didn’t mean it like that either.”

I crack a smile at how flustered he becomes. I shrug and try to explain. “I’m sure you eat in one meal what I probably eat in a whole week,” I tease him, knowing he wasn’t trying to be rude with his comment. I want him to know it’s fine. I don’t think he’s used to being uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is the story of my life. I always feel that way.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand, wrapping his fingers with mine and pulling me from the class. He walks a little too fast for me to keep up, so I have to double-step so I don’t trip.

“Where’s your locker?” he asks as I try to keep pace with him. He looks back and down at me, slowing his speed and mumbling an apology. He doesn’t letting go of my hand though. In fact, he tightens his hold. I have to spread my fingers wide to fit his between them.

“They’re getting me one.” He stops suddenly, and I almost run into him, but catch myself at the last second.

“Sorry. I have to be more careful with you.” He says it like he thinks he might break me or something. “This is my locker. Our locker.” He lets go of my hand, ripping some football decorations off the front of the locker before rolling them into a ball and throwing it into a trash can across the hall.

“Twelve, thirty-four, seventeen,” he says to me as he turns the dial, then opens the locker door. He puts my coat inside and looks at me. “Anything else you want to put in here? Make your backpack lighter? Never mind. I’ll just carry it. You remember the number?” He looks down at me and I stare at him. He’s all-consuming, and it’s different having someone look after me. Or at least that’s what it feels like he’s doing. Looking out for me on my first day at a new school “Forget it. I’ll be with you. You don’t need to remember the combination.”

“Twelve, thirty-four, seventeen,” I repeat them back to him. “Do you always answer your own questions?”

My words surprise him. “No.” He cocks his head to the side like he’s thinking. Then he grabs my hand again, pulling me with him. “Your hands are warm now?” His thumb grazes along my hand like he’s testing the temperature for himself.

“I’m fine.”

“You shouldn't be walking to school. A good wind would blow you over.”

“How do you know I…” I trail off when I realize we’re now in the lunchroom. Students turn to look at us. People whisper, and a knot forms in the bottom of my stomach. I don’t like when people stare. I feel my breathing pick up, and I try to pull my hand from Ren’s, but his hold is unbreakable.

He leads me to a table. “Sit here, I’ll go get our food.” There is no question in his words. He drops both our bags on the ground next to me and turns to leave. I glance around the room, seeing everyone is still looking, the whispers growing louder. I reach up and smooth my hair on the side that is covering up my scar, making sure no one can see it. I debate grabbing my bag and making a run for it.