Like him, music is a part of my life, and I express my emotions through the songs I listen to. The easiest way for Conner to get to know me is through my playlist. But I’m unsure if I am ready for that sort of commitment.
I sway my head from side to side as Conner signs. His soft, eccentric voice is alluring, and as he looks at me while he sings, it sends butterflies shooting through my stomach. His raised eyebrow and playful smile reveal he knows I like him more than a friend.
Conner enters the school parking lot, and I spot Andy’s car. Wylan and Dylan are with him, and Samantha’s bus stops by the entrance of the school.
I bite my lower lip and look away from him as I leave the car. Conner walks beside me, nudging his chin in Andy’s direction, which I find inappropriate and a little cocky. However, I don’t mind because my thoughts turn to Andy telling Dad about Conner in this instance.
I stop at Block A and tell Conner I need a few things in the art room. He follows, even though Aaron and Finch wave at him and try to call him to where they crowd near the cafeteria.
He then calls out to them and tells them he will see them at recess before following me up the stone stairs.
“What do you need in the classroom?”
“A few books,” I reply vaguely.
After grabbing my books and stuffing them in, we leave when the bell rings. As we step down the stairs, a group of girls walks up them. I move a little over because it seems they don’t budge when I stumble slightly to the side after one girl bumps into me.
I glimpse her brown eyes glaring at me, and a few of her friends snigger. The one who bumped me flicks her glossy black hair over her shoulder and says something snarky I don’t quite catch.
Conner stops walking and looks up the stairs. “Will you be all right heading to class?”
I glance at the girl with her arms folded over her chest, her shirt tucked into her rolled-up skirt, and then at Conner as he glares at her. “Okay,” I reply.
“I’ll see you in Creative Arts,” he announces before he walks back up the stairs. Conner places his hands in his pockets, and his form slouches, which seems uncharacteristically unlike Conner.
I press my lips thinly as I head down the stairs and wonder if Conner has problems he needs to deal with. Nevertheless, it isn’t anything I need to worry about. I have issues of my own I need to worry about, as Andy is talking to my dad as if he doesn’t remember the horrible things my dad has done to me.
17
ARGUMENT
When recess rolls around,I take a deep breath before rounding the corner to the back of the school blocks. Wylan is there, his hat over his face and leaning against the wall.
Samantha skips to Dylan, a beaming smile on her face, before she pecks him soundly on the cheek. They share a smoke and talk about their weekend.
I sit not that far from them, tuck my legs up to my chest, and burrow my fingers into the dirt. I draw circles, only to hesitate when someone’s shadow towers over me.
“Hey,” Andy says, his voice dripping with hostility.
“Hi.”
“Where were you Friday night?”
My eyes narrow. “Why did you talk to my dad?” As I look up, I glare at him. “Why did you tell him about Conner?”
“Because your dad called and was wondering where you were.”
“And you chatted with him? Why didn’t you message me to ask where I was?” I rise with my hands balled into fists. “What you did was wrong.”
“Wrong?” Andy scoffs.
Samantha darts a look over at us warily, then leans in to talk to Dylan.
“And you suddenly ditching me after all these years wasn’t wrong? Where was my message?”
“You know that’s different.” My voice comes out softer when Dylan approaches us with his hands waving in front of his face in an ‘I come in peace’signal. “Sorry, Dylan. I will leave.”
“No!” Andy grabs my arm before I can think to take a step. My body turns to stone, and the memories of all the times Dad took hold of me without warning rush back. Fright trembles my bones, and my lip quivers at the scary resemblance. “You aren’t running away this time. Where were you Friday night?”