CHAPTER28
The next morning, Tuesday, I have no idea what to expect. During homeroom, Tyler asks me why I won’t ride my bike to school anymore.
“I don’t trust you or the others not to wreck it,” I say frankly.
“I wouldn’t do anything to harm a bike.”
“Wouldn’t jump a curb to try to scare someone?” I mutter.
He’s not surprised to hear this, but he sets his jaw, clearly upset. “You ever get in a wreck?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You?”
“Yes and no.”
What the hell does that mean? But homeroom starts, and Tyler doesn’t say another word to me.
Brett’s not in calculus class, and maybe I shouldn’t, but I get started on the extra credit Mrs. Ice gave me—as if that’s going to bring up a fucking F. I’m still livid with her, and when she realizes that I’m not paying attention to her class, she calls me to the front to work on a problem. It takes me some time, but I’m able to answer it. Almost half the class.
In English, Tyler’s quiet, not at all like himself. He has his sleeves down by his wrists. Normally, he has them rolled up to show off his forearms by now, but he looks a bit uncomfortable in his skin. Or maybe I’m just reading into things.
Without Tyler to verbally spar with, the class is boring as hell. Lunch is next, and I refuse to not go to the cafeteria. It’s a bit easier to be overlooked by Brett and Corey. I almost wonder if they’re ready to ignore me and leave me be, but I know better than to expect that.
And in economics, I’m a bit late, the last one to arrive. Just like Shane talked about during the last class, there’s one desk short.
“Oh, Erika!” Shane calls.
Mr. Cunningham shakes his head. “No, Shane. I don’t know what you did with the desks, but she is not going to sit on your lap.”
“Maybe not during this class,” Shane says.
The class starts to laugh.
“You going to buy me dinner first?” I ask.
“If I have to.”
“Gonna have to be more than one dinner.”
“What happened to watching your girlish figure?”
“What happened to my not having a girlish figure?”
Shane winks at me.
Mr. Cunningham waves for me to sit at his desk, but that means I’m facing the class, and whenever I look up, Shane is staring at me. It’s not unnerving at all, for whatever reason, and once I leave for the day, I’m convinced that I can handle this. The Mutineers have been tamed somehow.
But once I leave the school and head to Maxima’s Auto Repairs, Max greets me with a grimace.
“I’ve been going over the numbers. I can’t afford to keep you on every day like this. Besides, you’re in school. You need to concentrate on getting your grades up.”
My first instinct is to argue with him, but if he doesn’t have the money, he doesn’t have the money, and no amount of whining is going to change that, so I just swallow hard. “How many days a week?”
“Saturday and Sunday. Tuesday and Thursday. That work?”
“Sure,” I mumble. “But, ah, today is Tuesday.”
“I know, but you worked yesterday.”