“Mm hmmm,” he says, raising one eyebrow in that infuriatingly sexy way of his. “You and Todd, huh? I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.”
Damn it. He heard more of the conversation with Daria than I like. At the same time, I’m suddenly angry, but I can’t say what I want to say.
No, Chase,you’remy type. But I can’t have you, now can I? So don’t go saying things that make me think I could.
“Well, I think he’s a gentleman,” I say, turning away from him. Todd walked me to the door when he took me home. And he may like me, but he’s never even tried to kiss me. And here’s Chase, who has a girlfriend, and he probably kissed me just because he knew he could take advantage of my obvious infatuation. So what if I don’t have a single butterfly wing stirring when Todd’s around, and I have all-out birds flocking around in my stomach when Chase so much as looks at me?
When the bell rings dismissing the class, Chase stands, leans over, and murmurs in my ear, “Your legs look hot in that little skirt.”
I sit there after he walks out, unable to move, the heat of his breath still on my ear. A delicious tingling chill works its way from my scalp to my toes. My mind is still reeling when I realize Daria is standing right in front of my desk. Fury boils through my blood as I stand up and join her.
“I want him,” I say to Daria.
She regards me through narrowed eyes. “What?”
“Todd. I like Todd. I want to go out with him.”
“Really?” She looks as excited as if I’d told her someone liked her.
“Really, really.”
Maybe if I say it enough, it’ll become the truth.
*
By the next day, I seem to be in my first relationship. I had no idea it would be so easy or if I even want it. But thanks to Daria’s loud mouth,voila. Instant boyfriend.
Todd walks me to all my classes, even carrying my books. He saves me a spot next to him at lunch, and Daria is there across from us, practically bouncing out of her chair with enthusiasm. Todd doesn’t say anything about it. He texts me that night, and I don’t even bother asking where he got my number.
Our text conversation is brief—neither of us have much to say. The only thing we have in common is our group of friends, or his group of friends, anyway. I find myself wondering during an uncomfortable silence if that’s why everyone gossips so much. If all we have in common is our friends, doesn’t it make sense to talk about them?
There’s an unforeseen side effect of walking around with Todd. After only two days, I seem to have miraculously become visible. When we walk down the hall together, I see people looking at us. Not staring exactly, but they’re definitely seeing us. Judging us. I find myself wondering if they think I measure up. I put extra effort into my hair the next morning and throw on some eye shadow along with my usual mascara and gloss routine.
I’m getting my books at my locker in the morning when I hear a catcall and glance in that direction. Chase is swaggering by with a couple of his football buddies.
“Damn, girl, you lookin’finethis mornin’,” he says, exaggerating his normally refined southern accent into something more cartoonish.
I blush and turn back to my locker.
“What’s the matter, darlin’, you don’t like southern boys?” His face appears around the door of my open locker. I wish I could be mad at him, but my heart is racing.
Lindsey appears and pulls him away by the arm. “Stop being a jerk,” she says, pushing him away down the hall. A minute later she catches up to me.
“Hey, sorry about Chase,” she says. “He can be really insensitive sometimes. He’s a nice guy. He’s just been through a lot.”
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, my eyes fixed on the books clutched in my arms. Thinking about Chase’s soft mouth on my mouth, his hand in my hair, his fingers on my skin…
“He only teases you because he likes to make you blush.”
“I know,” I say, feeling like the absolute scum of the entire earth. I don’t deserve her kindness. And he definitely doesn’t deserve it. Suddenly, a thought slams into me so hard the hallway seems to expand and contract sickeningly in front of me.
Meghan said Chase was going out with Lindsey last year. And he’s going out with her now. Which means he was probably going out with her this summer. When we met. When his mouth was on more than my mouth, his hands on more than my hair, his fingers not just on me, but sinking deep inside of me.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” Lindsey says, her sweet face so innocent, so trusting, that I think I’ll be sick.
“I’m okay,” I say, relieved when I reach my class and leave her. I drop my forehead onto my desk and try to catch my breath. Well, I got my wish. I have friends. I just happened to make the absolute worst choice of friends on the entire planet.
And if I’m really her friend, I’m going to have to find a way to tell her what happened. I just hope she isn’t one of the mean girls Meghan warned me about.