Chapter 3
THREE
Playing: “Crush” by Ethel Cain
My hands clam up as I wait by the tall library window.
A layer of ice covers the glass, little snowflakes sticking and melting in a whimsical cycle.
I watch as a clump of crystals glide downward, losing their chill and falling from the glass in a dramatic heap.
The snow didn’t stay long this year. Spring is coming in full force and I can’t wait until I can finally wear something cute again without freezing.
Coming early to wait for my unfortunate project partner was a bad idea.
Now, I’m anxious, so I tap my fingernails along my textbook to present myself as bored when I’m anything but.
I hope he doesn’t show up. Maybe I can tell Mrs. Vaughn my partner was incompetent and didn’t know how to be on time for a simple project.
I’m about to believe my own delusional thought when the door to the library swings open and heavy booted footsteps walk in.
Chains clink where they hang from his belt loop, his hair rough and wild.
Those stupid sticks are clutched in his palm.
He stops, and his eyes scour over the vast library as he searches for something.
Searches for me. When his gaze meets mine, his lips curve into a smile and my nerves intensify.
Why did my partner have to be Axl Ritchie?
I’ve been avoiding him since Quinn’s party this past fall, desperate not to relive what happened in that dark closet.
Life in this town is hard enough without me being forced to acknowledge that he will always be my first kiss.
Not that it was a bad one, not at all, which is a whole other mental torture.
If he had just been bad at it, maybe being around him wouldn’t be so horrible. Maybe we could even be friends. But as it stands, that will never be possible.
“You’re late,” I say when he gets to the table.
He laughs under his breath and sits down. “By one measly minute. Ledger was showing me this new chord progression he came up with.”
My brows scrunch. “I don’t know what that means.”
“You know, like music? Ledger plays the guitar.”
“Ah,” I say, piecing it together. “And you beat those sticks on things.”
“Things,” he echoes, smiling. “It’s a little bit more complicated than that, but okay.”
“Can we just get started?” I ask with frustration.
He places his drumsticks on the table and pulls a textbook out of his bag. When he places it on the table, he scoots closer to me. I freeze, unable to process what he’s doing until his book is opened to the appropriate page. “We’re presenting the planets, right?”
I nod, still caught off guard by his proximity. “We should each take half and collect information on them.”
“Alright, but I get Uranus.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t be crude.”
My scolding does nothing to deter him, his face still morphed with amusement. “Come on, blondie. Can’t we be friends?” he says.
I huff a frustrated breath. “No. We’re not going to be chummy. Not ever.”
“Chummy,” he laughs. “And why not? We’re not so different, you and I.”
“Yes, we are,” I argue. “Besides, I already have enough friends.”
“Those people are not your friends.”
He says it so bluntly I flinch, the hurt strong enough I feel a prick behind my eyelids. “Well, they like me. All you have is freaking Ledger.”
It’s a low blow and I know it. If I’m completely honest, their friendship has made an ugly green monster appear within me.
Ever since Ledger moved here back in November, they’ve been attached at the hip.
I should be glad Axl finally has someone who understands him, who is identical to him in every way.
But the sting is still there, a reminder that I don’t have someone like that.
No one to share myself with, to laugh with.
No one to see who I really am underneath the act.
He shrugs. “Quality over quantity.”
I nod. “Can we just get started please? I’d like to get home at a decent time.”
We sit there for a while, scanning our individual textbooks for things about our respective planets. The information goes over my head. I write down anything I see, but absorb none of it as my mind spins with all sorts of feelings I’d rather not have.
At some point, his non-dominant hand ends up on the table close to mine, lying lax as he writes in his notebook.
The heat from his skin brushes up against mine, and the hair on my arm begins to raise.
He must notice my pause because his pencil stops a second later, our hands lingering next to each other in a forbidden dance.
The smallest movement happens, his hand scooting the tiniest bit closer, and suddenly our hands are touching.
Tension builds as I keep my hand as still as I possibly can, not wanting to invoke any further contact, but also not wanting to pull away.
When his hand relaxes next to mine, he lets out a sigh.
“Hey, I—” He pauses, his hand still touching mine. “I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine,” I insist.
“No, it’s not.” His pinky moves slightly, caressing my hand with the softest featherlike touch.
I should pull away, look to see who is around, but I don’t.
I let it linger. Something inside of me needs it.
“I’m sure there are things about your life that I don’t know, just like there are things you don’t know about mine. So, it was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his tone surprises me before he pulls his hand away.
My gaze stares down at the empty place on the table, a part of me wishing the moment didn’t have to end.
I already miss the gentleness of it. When my hand slides over the table on its own accord to—I don’t know—hold his hand and commit social suicide, a voice comes from behind me.
“Well, look who we’ve got here.” When I turn to see who it is, I let out a groan. William Tack is spoiled rotten and a complete annoyance. Most days, I don’t have to see him since he’s a few years older, but lucky me, I got the short end of the stick today.
“What’s up, mouth breather?” Axl responds as he lounges in his chair. “How nice of you to grace us with your presence.”
I hide the amusement I get from that before Will places his fists on the table and leans toward us. His lackeys are behind him, along with Gabby—another person that makes me roll my eyes. “You’re an unlikely pair. What are you two doing together?”
I bite my lip, wishing I could say something back, but my throat closes instead. Luckily, Axl has never had an issue with defending himself, so he sits up a bit taller and holds Will’s eyes. “It’s called a school project. Have you ever done one?”
One of his friends laughs and he elbows them in the stomach. He lets out such a loud grunt of pain that the librarian shushes us from across the room.
When it’s quiet once more, William turns back to us, his eyes extra venomous, like it’s our fault his friend laughed at his expense. Before he can say anything, Gabby steps forward. “Still, you don’t both have to suffer. One of you can do the project and the other one can come with us.”
“Yes, exactly,” Will agrees. “Come on, Stace. Let the loser do the project by himself, and you can come hang with us.”
I’m honestly horrified by that. Not only do I like to do my work, but ditching just to hang out with them? Barf, no thanks.
But I don’t say that, I just blink at the notebook in front of me, hoping the problem will sort itself out.
“It doesn’t look like she wants to leave,” Axl retorts, having to take the dig.
“Shut it, freak. I bet you love being in her presence. A school project is the only way it’s ever going to happen,” Will spits before looking at me. “Do you really think a girl like her will ever like a loser like you?”
“It sounds to me like you’re the one who wants to spend time with her,” my partner accuses. “Maybe you’re projecting a little bit, seeing as you’re over there, and I’m sitting right here.”
I close my eyes and swallow a groan. Panic fills Will’s eyes before he asks, “Aren’t you going to tell him to fuck off, Stacey?”
At the direct question, there’s a minor thrum pumping through my body. All eyes are on me now, and I feel like I can’t hide from the scrutiny any longer. Still, I muster up the courage and pretend to yawn.
“This is so boring to me,” I say, my usual bitch tone bleeding through. “I’d rather have some say in the project I’m part of. You guys can go, we’re fine here.”
I hold onto the persona, pretend like I’m uninterested as I go back to my notes.
“Fine,” Gabby replies, mimicking my bored tone. “Come on, guys.”
They all go away and I let out a sigh of relief. I keep my eyes diverted from Axl, nervous to see what awaits me in his gaze. Even if my statement wasn’t outright defending him, I hope it was enough. I don’t want to choose a side, mark a line in the sand.
Thankfully, I don’t have to. I finally look at him and find his same amused smirk, like he can see right through me and all of my bullshit.
“Alright, blondie,” he says as he lounges back in his chair. “Let’s finish up.”
We finish the rest of our work in silence with only the occasional question about logistics regarding the presentation. And even though it was for the best, he never once tried to place his hand back on the table. No matter how much I secretly hoped he would.