So Many Boys (The Naughty List #2)(37)
Author: Suzanne Young

I’d just arrived when I saw Joel leaning against my locker, dressed in dark jeans and a white Nirvana T-shirt, with perfectly mussed hair. Everything about him looked comforting—maybe because I felt like a perfect disaster.

“Oh, man,” he said, pushing off the metal locker to walk toward me, taking my backpack off my shoulder. “Kira said you were upset, but damn, Tess. You look bad!”

I smiled. “Thanks, Joel. That really helps.”

He stepped back, looking proud. “You’re getting more and more sarcastic every day. I’m loving it.”

“Glad somebody is.” I walked over to my locker, swirling the combo and looking over my shoulder at Joel. “I’m sorry,” I said with a sigh, and opened the locker to grab my language arts materials. “I have a lot going on, including faking perky. It’s so unpleasant.” When I found my notebook, I took my backpack from Joel’s hands and set it on the floor of the hallway. I unzipped it and tucked my book in. When I was done, I turned around to Joel and slammed my locker shut.

“Now,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “How are you really?” He pressed his lips together in sympathy, but I wished he would smile. It made me feel better.

“How much has Kira told you?”

“Up to the kiss between the ex-captain chick and your ex-boyfriend.”

I closed my eyes and scrunched my nose, the sight coming back to me all too quickly. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry.” He moved a little closer to me, filling me with the smell of him. Shampoo, soap, light cologne. “She said you took it like a champ and even asked for her to get you on the squad without a vote. Pretty bold.”

I nodded. “That’s true. I think it’s time for all the Smitten Kittens to get their lives in order.” I certainly couldn’t tell him about the copy-Kitten, but I was sure he already knew about Izzie and Sam.

Joel licked his lips, watching the ground as he seemed to think this over. “Brave answer, Tessa. Now again, how do you really feel?”

I blinked quickly, my stomach beginning to twist with the pressure of thinking about it. “Peachy.” But when I looked up to meet Joel’s eyes, my vision began to blur. By Cleopatra’s crown! I was starting to cry.

“Tessa?” someone called, and I sniffled quickly and looked down the hall. It was Megan Wright. She was jogging down the hall toward me, her books in her hand. “Could you do me a favor?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder down the hallway. “Will you tell Ms. Lipton that I’m sick or something?” She looked panicked as she continued to glance around, smiling politely at Joel once.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, my heart rate accelerating. “Do you need help?”

Megan swallowed hard, and for a minute, I thought she was going to tell me what was wrong; instead she shook her head. “I just have to get out of here,” she whispered. “You’ll tell Ms. Lipton, though?”

I nodded, feeling truly worried.

“Thanks, Tessa.” She exhaled before turning around. “Oh,” she said, looking back at me. “I heard you’re thinking of getting back on the Smitten Kittens.”

“Yep.”

“I’m glad. They need you.” Then she turned and hurried down the hall, her sandals flopping on the linoleum floor as she ran toward the exit.

“What was that about?” Joel asked, bumping his shoulder into mine.

I sighed. “I have no idea. But whatever it is, it’s not good.” I looked over, startled by just how close his face was to mine. Honeycombs! He was very handsome up close.

“Definitely not,” he said, quietly, his eyes flickering to my mouth. We stood, somewhat frozen, until the tardy bell rang. It snapped me awake.

“Dang it,” I said, spinning toward the English hallway. “I’m late!”

Joel was looking down at the ground, his eyebrows pulled together, as if he was in deep thought. I wasn’t sure why he looked so confused, but I did know that I wanted to avoid detention.

“I have to run,” I said, ducking down to catch his eyes. “I’ll see you later?”

He straightened up, staring at me with a curious look on his face. “Um…sure. Yeah, I’ll catch you later, Tess.”

I curled my lip at him, not sure why he’d suddenly gotten so weird. When I gave him a wave and turned to jog down the hall to class, I thought I might have heard him call my name, but when I glanced back, he was gone.

I was pretty sure I scored less than an A on that language arts test I’d taken about Death of a Salesman. Ms. Lipton kept calling on me, then having other students correct my wrong answers. It was humiliating. And I felt like a science experiment during lunch because everyone was staring at me. Apparently Chloe had caught sight of Aiden and Mary too, but she wasn’t as restrained as I was. She told the entire school. And although they asked politely (which I appreciated), the theme of today’s interactions was, “How is Tessa handling it?”

When the day was over, I was completely relieved, not to mention a little overwhelmed with emotion. But I was determined to make it home before even one tear eked out.

When I got outside, I noticed that the Washington sky had imploded! It was cloaked in dark gray rain clouds. Ick. It was dreadful.

Feeling the first sprinkle touch my nose, I glanced up once more before dashing toward my car. I jogged across the parking lot and unlocked my door, happy that I’d just beaten the storm, as the rain began to hit my window in fat splatters.

I refused to think about how perfectly this rain complemented my crumbling life. I stuck my key in the ignition and turned it. There was a series of clicks, but otherwise nothing happened. “Oh, no,” I said, trying it again. Nada.

I slapped my hand across the steering wheel, feeling annoyed. Even my car was breaking up with me? I stared at it, anger welling up in me, thinking about Mary. About Kira. About…Aiden. I slapped my steering wheel again, feeling it sting my hand.

“Stupid car,” I mumbled. I hit it again. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…” I left my key dangling in the ignition as I beat the leather steering wheel with my fists, screaming louder with each hit.

There was a knock at my window and I jumped, out of breath and shaking. Joel was out there with his backpack over his head, trying to block the rain. Embarrassed and still a bit crazed, I opened the door.

“You’re beating up your car,” he said, as if it was just a casual observation.