CHAPTER 3

  The day after the funeral, I plodded my way to school, wishing I could skip it. Rachelle gone. Micah back. It all seemed surreal. I didn’t think reality would settle into focus until he started school again next week. Once I saw him every day, remembered why he returned, I’d no longer be able to hide from it. But at least I’d see him every day.

  Shuffling through the doors, I nearly ran into someone leaving the school as I entered.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, barely dodging out of the way before planting my face in their chest. Berating myself for not paying attention to where I put my feet—again—I glanced up at pale blue eyes.

  Micah wore the same weary expression his father did, but as we stared at each other, the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. The tiny gesture made my heart sing, and I paused, not sure what to say. No greeting felt appropriate.

  “Hey, Wynn.”

  “Are you starting today?” They didn’t actually expect him to get straight back to school so soon after the funeral, did they?

  “Not until Monday. Just met with the principal.”

  I nodded. No one would force him to attend school the day after he buried his mother. She wasn’t my mother, so I didn’t get that kind of treatment. To be fair, I hadn’t asked. To be more fair, I preferred the distraction.

  His mouth drew tight, eyes falling. My stupid question reminded him. How could I be so idiotic? My arms itched to hold him the way I had behind the church.

  Fred Sepich cleared his throat.

  I murmured, “Well, have a good day.”

  “Yeah, you too,” Micah muttered back.

  We both said the words as if neither of us expected a good day to be possible.

  “Nice to see you, Tylwynn.”

  “You too, Fred.”

  As he left, Micah took all the light in the world with him, returning me to another dreary Wednesday. Three long school days and a solid weekend stood between now and seeing him again. Even after we’d been away from each other longer than a year, I couldn’t bear to be kept from the boy for five days. How pathetic. Then again, nothing kept me from visiting him after—

  “Hey, Wynn.” The repeated words startled me.

  I whirled, surprised to find Terrence standing in the lobby a few feet away, dour as ever. “Don’t call me that, please,” I said to the short boy.

  “But—”

  “Micah,” I quickly cut him off, “is the only one allowed to call me Wynn.” His thick, dark lips naturally frowned, so I couldn’t tell if I offended him, but tried to smooth things out anyway. “I only let him get away with it because we’ve known each other since before he could pronounce my name correctly.”

  Terrence shrugged.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I tried working on it last night, but it’s kicking my butt.”

  Since the prep school hadn’t been open the previous year, none of the current tenth graders went through its new ninth-grade math course designed to prepare us for AP Calculus. Most, like me and Terrence, took a summer class as a primer, but only a week into school several students started falling behind. I offered to help with a homework study group on B-days for half an hour before class.

  “Is anyone else here yet?” I asked, walking toward the library.

  “Don’t know, just got here.”

  We entered the small library. Three tables sat in front of the checkout desk, all empty. Apparently, typical teenagers would rather struggle through math than wake up early. Which made me and Terrance abnormal.

  Completely alone, I glanced sideways at Terrence. He seemed nice enough, even with his permanent scowl, but I barely knew him. The prep school brought in kids from all over the county—and a few from outside—because of the new program. Terrence and I attended the summer classes together but never actually talked until today. Well, time to break some ice.

  “Where’re you from?” I asked.

  “Live Oak.”

  “Really?” Excitement tinged my voice, and I tried to tone it down. “That’s where Micah’s dad is from.”

  Amazingly, Terrence grew frownier. “So, who’s this Micah? He wasn’t in summer school.”

  “He just moved back to Madison.” Choking a little as memories of the day before filled my head, I decided to change direction. “Besides, he’s too smart for summer school. Especially when it comes to math. I’m sure he’ll be here helping out next week. Micah is kind like that.”

  “Like you.”

  I glanced away, a little taken aback by the comment. “Well, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  Terrence smiled for the first time I’d ever seen, but I immediately preferred the frown. “Chill, it’s a compliment.”

  I mumbled, “Thanks,” then busied myself retrieving the calculus book and homework from my bag. Goosebumps ran up my arms. Why did he make me so uncomfortable? I imagined Micah implying I was kind, and a fire ignited my chest and cheeks. If thinking about him made me blush, I’d be in trouble once he returned to school.

  I set the book on the table. Terrence simply stood there with that smirk on his face. “Are you doing math, or what?” I asked.

  His lips immediately resumed a frown, and he hurried to put his backpack on the table, digging around in it for his stuff. “I hate having to use paper and pencils.”

  I didn’t argue. As an artist, paper and pencils were my natural habitat, but I understood why other kids didn’t like it. We’d all grown used to doing homework online, but the prep school had a policy of using actual textbooks and paper homework to prevent students using AI to cheat. While not foolproof, I didn’t blame them for trying. The world didn’t need a rising generation of medical professionals who depended on computers for every answer.

  “Do you have a date for Homecoming?”

  My head spun. Would Terrence actually spring a Homecoming invitation on me in the library? On the first day we ever talked to each other? And why were we still alone? At least two other students said they’d be here, and I desperately wished for them to appear. Right now.

  I managed to get out an “Umm,” before he quickly moved on.

  “I assume you’re going with him, right?”

  I blinked.

  “You obviously like him. He’d be an idiot not to like you back. Are you two a thing?”

  Micah and I a thing? I wish. An idiot not to like me? Wait. Was Terrence implying he liked me? He didn’t even know me! Micah knew me very well, though. For the millionth time, I wondered if my feelings for him were mutual, both in desire and fear of rejection. The blush returned with a vengeance, and I hurried to look down at my book, playing dumb.

  “Who are you talking about?”

  “Micah.” His tone implied the “duh”. I deserved it.

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Sure. Well, he’s got two weeks to ask you out, or I’m taking you to Homecoming.”

  The fire in my flushed cheeks burned its way into the rest of my face as I glared at Terrence. “You’re taking me?”

  He shrugged, permanent scowl unperturbed. “You know what I mean. Best-case scenario, we have a fun date, he gets jealous and asks you to the Winter Dance. Worst-case, you find out he’s an idiot and move on.”

  Who was this kid? Where did all these assumptions come from? And where did he find so much confidence? I didn’t know much about Terrence, but what I did know wasn’t particularly complimentary. Short—barely taller than me. Frank to the point of rude. Frowny faced. Already falling behind after a week of school.

  I frowned. Those words could describe me. Only my determination to prove myself to Micah gave me the focus I needed to keep up with calculus. I had a little more control over the words which came out of my mouth, but it took a lot of practice, and I still found myself constantly blurting out things I immediately regretted. Luckily, short didn’t have the same degree of significance for girls. Some might consider it an advantage.

  Terrence’s self-confidence was admirable, if misplaced. Why couldn’t I look Micah in the eyes and call him kind? Why couldn’t I tell him he had two weeks to ask me out or I’d take him to Homecoming? This short, rude boy had a point. Would Micah wake up if he saw someone else interested in me? Assuming he cared. Assuming he didn’t think I was an idiot.

  Didn’t I decide to come to the prep school in the first place because of Micah? Beyond simply smart, the kid’s intellect made Einstein seem like a fish trying to climb a tree. After sitting through my freshman year of mediocre-to-bad teachers at the county high school, I knew when I left this podunk town to find him again, I’d be just another uneducated Florida redneck. Micah might still think of me as a friend, but I’d never be his equal.

  However, if I graduated high school already on track to become a doctor, that would show him I could keep up at least as well as any other girl.

  That plan backfired when he returned home. Not that I was complaining, but now I’d have to prove my intelligence every day, in full view the genius brain hiding behind those pale blue eyes.

  I swallowed hard and focused on my homework. “Let’s just do some math, please.”

  Terrence simply nodded, revealing unexpected respect for my fallen mood.

  I didn’t particularly like Terrence but had to admit his little shenanigans definitely broke the ice. In a few seconds, he made it clear he considered me a girl worth pursuing. As I got to know him better, we might become friends, but he’d have to tone down the intensity.

  The rest of our study session went smoothly—strictly calculus after the awkward conversation. No one else showed up before we finished our homework, and we walked silently to the math room.

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  Mostly empty when we got there, only Lucy—the new girl who sat two seats over from me—already sat in her chair, one hand running fingers through hair damp from morning swim practice, the other holding a small novel which snared her focus. Terrence went straight over, sat on the unclaimed desk between hers and mine, and struck up a casual conversation. That took guts of steel. My own intestines twisted from the way he watched her. I expected him to drool any moment.

  Why was I jealous? I held no feelings for Terrence. Some part of my ego must’ve been flattered by his interest. How vain.

  Besides, Lucy claimed the unspoken title for most attractive girl in school. Maybe the whole state. Or country. Planet? With hair the rarest of true reds dangling in natural, soft curls, and eyes a green so pure they practically glowed, certainly no one in Madison could compete. It took me a few days of sitting near her before I noticed she didn’t wear makeup. It made sense, given she spent the time between swimming and school nose-deep in books, yet it surprised me because, with her flawless complexion, I assumed she wore a base. But no, it was all natural. So unfair. Not to mention her figure. Tall, athletically slender, but with all the right curves. The girl could pass for a reincarnation of Aphrodite herself.

  Still, I mostly envied Lucy’s complexion. I couldn’t handle the kind of attention that body drew. While pretty in my own way, and grateful for it, I held no delusions of running in any beauty competition. Even in this small town. Even before Lucy moved in.

  No, I wouldn’t take it personally that Terrence displayed more interest in Lucy than me. He was a boy, and every boy at this school was more interested in Lucy than me. That suited me fine because I only wanted Mic—

  I cringed as I realized Micah would soon be a boy at this school. Would he drool over Lucy? No, he never seemed that kind of boy. Or at least, not before. What about now? James ate with the rest of Lucy’s fan club since the first day of school, hoping to catch her eye. Given his size, he had a better chance than anyone.

  What if Micah joined that crowd? Acid burned in my throat, and I nearly threw up. The scenario of him finding his first love in a Philadelphia high school had dug its way into my dreams during the months he’d been away. Every time I woke from those nightmares my heart vanished from my chest, leaving a gaping hole into which my rib cage collapsed. If a dream hurt so much, how much worse if it happened in reality before my very eyes?

  “You should join our morning study group,” Terrence said to Lucy.

  I wanted to smack him. I wanted to scream that she wasn’t invited. Giving her any chance to know Micah better would feed my already plump jealousy. But childish knee-jerk reactions were unnecessary. Instead, I rolled my eyes.

  “Thanks, but I’m pretty busy in the morning,” Lucy responded with a full truck-load of sarcasm as she flicked her wet hair.

  It actually took Terrence a few seconds to catch on. “Oh, right. Well, I meant when you don’t have swim practice.”

  The kid’s eyes only evened out with Lucy’s when he sat on a desk while she sat in a chair. Where did he get such confidence? She barely tolerated him. How couldn’t he see it? The bell interrupted his pathetic flirting attempts, and Terrence scrambled to his seat as Mr. Tuttle stood up to begin the lesson.

  The rest of the week crawled by. Knowing Micah lived so close again made me long to see him. Knowing he grieved made me ache to hold him. Paying attention to class became impossible as daydreams flooded my mind.

  I could go to his new home after school. Bring some flowers. Was that appropriate? A boy didn’t want flowers from a girl. No, I’d stop by Grumpy’s and get a buttermilk pie, of course. We’d sit on his porch and watch the rain while he ate. He’d offer me a bite because he was kind like that. I’d take the whole plate from him, set it down, express my sorrow for Rachelle, then admit my happiness to have him back home. Confessing my feelings for him, I’d reach out, and he would put out a hand, the same way he did at the funeral. Stabbing pain woke me from the reverie.

  If being rebuffed in a daydream felt this devastating, the real thing might kill me. Maybe we’d never be together the way I wanted, but simply being around him would make me happy enough for now. We were only fifteen. There was time. So much time. Never ending amounts of time!

  Thursday came and went at a snail’s pace. The days until I’d see Micah again stretched into eternity. Friday morning, Terrence remained the only other person in our study group. He behaved himself this time, keeping the conversation casual. He proudly showed me the homework he managed to get done on his own and only laughed when I pointed out he did it all wrong.

  Once again, he sat between me and Lucy before class and chatted with her. Did he intentionally keep his back to me? Why flirt with me one moment, then pretend I didn’t exist the next? Obviously, he was totally smitten with her, so why did he seem interested in me when we studied alone? Was he hoping for Lucy’s attention, but willing to settle for mine? Not that I cared. I didn’t want him chasing after me. But I didn’t want to be his second choice, either. Ugh! Love was stupid.

  During the class, I turned to get some lip balm from my bag and caught him staring at me from his desk in the corner of the room. He didn’t look away. His frown twisted into a slight smile. Did he actually wink?

  Sighing, I decided to ignore him from now on. He could play whatever games he wanted because in three days Micah would be back in my life, and I’d never think of Terrence again.

  After putting on the lip balm and dropping it in my bag, I glanced at Lucy. She stared at me too. No, she appraised me. Large green eyes rolled down, then back up, slowly examining me. I gave her a polite smile and focused on listening to Mr. Tuttle, but my skin squirmed at her lingering gaze.

  Why? Could she possibly like Terrence, so assessed me as a threat? I barely contained laughter at both the image of tall, perfect Lucy holding hands with short, scowling Terrence, and the idea she might consider me competition. Whatever she really thought, I decided I didn’t care about that either.

  I continued to ignore her until she turned away, but when the bell rang a few minutes later she leaned across the empty desk between us and whispered, “Are you and Terrence dating?”

  My horrified reaction was reflexive, and as I opened my mouth to deny it, she smiled slyly and said, “I didn’t believe it.” Before I could decide if I should be offended by those words, her smile became genuine and she continued, “You’re too good for him.”

  Emotions spun into a confused mix inside of me. Revulsion, embarrassment, anger, and flattery, all at once. I glanced over to where Terrence sat to make sure he’d already left before asking, “Why would you think that?”

  “He claimed to be taking you to Homecoming,” her tone made it sound absurd.

  Fire ignited in my gut, and my hands balled into fists as I kept myself from hunting the kid down and throttling him.

  Lucy waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ve seen this before. He wants to make me jealous by not asking me out while bragging about asking other girls out.” Rolling her eyes, she stood and gracefully slung a messenger bag over her shoulder, appearing for all the world like a young goddess. Aphrodite indeed.

  Wait. She’d seen this before? I underestimated how much more of a curse than a blessing her beauty might be. As I gathered my stuff, she came around the desk and spoke quietly.

  “You’re probably smart enough to know this already, but you should stay away from Terrence. Devious little snots like him are nothing but trouble. I’ll handle him.”

  “Thanks?” I mumbled as she walked away.

  The bizarre conversation repeated in my mind as I mechanically made my way to second period, making it difficult to focus the entire class. Part of me felt graced by her attention, as if she was exactly the teenage goddess she appeared to be. Lucy talked to me, voluntarily, with compliments and dating advice. And not in a demeaning way. She… looked out for me.

  Why should that make me feel special, though? I didn’t put stock in popularity. I didn’t crave acceptance or approval. So why did her words affect me so deeply? Should I believe them? What if she really wanted me to not like Terrence so she could have him?

  This time I did laugh aloud, which gained a few curious glances from students in the room and a deadly glare from Mrs. Shepherd. I quickly covered my mouth, cheeks burning, but the laugh continued inside. As if Lucy couldn’t have any boy she wanted simply by returning interest.

  And if Micah showed interest?

  I shuddered but couldn’t think of a reason he wouldn’t.

  After biology came lunch. I ate outside in my usual spot next to a young tree—one of several recently planted in a row at the edge of a detention basin just north of the school. Though small, it provided decent cover from sunshine and light rain. The grass was a bit wet, but in Florida, wet was normal. Admittedly, the shade didn’t do much for the heat either, what with all the humidity, but I personally enjoyed it. Air conditioning worked overtime to keep the school so cold, I appreciated the chance to thaw out. Besides, with a tiny cafeteria, most of the kids ate outside. Including Lucy and her entourage.

  As part of the rebuilding, a covered patio with benches for outdoor eating sat along the north side of the school. Three tables overflowed with teens—mostly senior boys—surrounding the popular new girl.

  I watched Lucy closer than I ever cared to before. She returned smiles directed at her, laughed, and responded cheerily to questions, but surprised me with how graciously she treated the few other girls in the group. She regularly spoke to them, even across tables, constantly shifting the spotlight away from herself to them. I couldn’t hear most of the conversation, but the dynamic displayed her intentions clearly to anyone paying attention.

  Lucy didn’t welcome the adoration of those boys but was too nice to simply push them away. Those other girls, however, craved attention, reveling in each second the spotlight shone on them, greedily clinging to it until someone interrupted their basking with another question for the goddess.

  This revelation both awed and bothered me, though before I could analyze why, one of the fanboys—a particularly tall and muscular one—stood and abandoned the pack, walking toward my tree. About time James joined me for lunch. I hadn’t said anything—I knew how much he liked Lucy—but I missed eating with him the first week and a half of school.

  “Giving up already?” I asked in a friendly tone.

  James shrugged.

  I patted the damp grass next to me. “Well, I get the feeling she doesn’t actually care for all the attention. You might have better luck ignoring her for a while.”

  His eyebrows rose and he glanced back at the group as he knelt down. “Think so?”

  “Definitely. This way you won’t seem so incredibly, ridiculously, pathetically desperate.”

  He laughed as he opened his lunch sack, pulling out the unfinished half of a large hoagie he brought from home. If you wanted good food at school, you brought your own.

  We ate in silence for a couple minutes before I asked, “Excited to have Micah back on Monday?”

  He grunted.

  “Me too. I’m sick of eating alone,” I said, jabbing the massive kid in the ribs with my elbow.

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  I laughed. “No, I don’t blame you at all. She’s gorgeous. Seems nice too.”

  He shrugged but actually followed it up with a few words. “She’s weird. Not what I expected.”

  “Good weird or bad weird?”

  Another shrug, and he stuffed his mouth with a massive bite from the hoagie.

  I smirked. “I mean, is she the shoves-half-a-sandwich-in-her-mouth kind of weird, or the communicates-with-shrugs-and-grunts kind of weird?”

  James glared at me while he chewed. After he swallowed, the large boy purposefully shoved the rest of the hoagie in his mouth, then shrugged and grunted. We both broke into laughter, which didn’t end well for him.

  I patted his back while he choked and coughed between food-muted laughs. His joke-turned-choke drew attention from the other students, including Lucy. She considered James and me, then offered that same sly smile she gave me earlier and followed it with a nod of approval.

  I quickly looked down, hoping she didn’t catch my blush. Did she think I was interested in James? And she approved? Why did I care? I didn’t have romantic feelings for him, but I recognized his several qualities. In a world where Micah didn’t exist, I might have been interested, but Micah didn’t simply exist in this world, he was my world. Three days. I only had to wait three more days.

  School flew by after lunch, a translucent film atop my daydreams of the following Monday. I imagined showing Micah around the school, helping him get to each of his classes. He’d invite me over to do homework. I didn’t know what his new house looked like, so my imagination kept placing us in the small bedroom he grew up in next-door.

  The window would be open, letting in a warm breeze and the smell of rain. We’d lay on his bed as I explained the calculus to him. Then he’d stop me, suddenly, with a kiss. Stunned by his claim he always loved me, I’d ask him to prove it. He’d push the books off the bed and reach for me, kissing me with the passionate intensity of years longing for each other in silent suffering. Then the bell would ring.

  Bell?

  Kids around me quickly threw things in backpacks and hurried out the door, excited to be done with school for the week. Some discussed weekend movie plans or boating at Cherry Lake. I sighed and slowly packed my things.

  Daydreams were stupid. Micah would never need my help with calculus, and he’d never kiss me out of the blue like that. How would I react, in the real world, if he did? Blood rushed to my cheeks as I relived the scene. Make out session or no, Micah returned to my life next Monday. Just a long, lonely weekend to survive.

  I moved so slowly while packing up, the room had already emptied of everyone except me and Mrs. Molina.

  “Miss Ethelston,” she called to me from her desk. Teachers usually use students’ first names, but most of them found my last name less intimidating.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “We have a new student starting next Tuesday. From what I’m told, you two are old friends. Do you know Micah Sepich?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said more enthusiastically than intended. Would Micah and I share a class? I couldn’t keep the grin off my face and Mrs. Molina mirrored it back at me.

  “Well, from that response, is it safe to assume you wouldn’t mind if he sat next to you?”

  “No, of course, that would be great. I mean, fine. I don’t mind at all.” Words tumbled out of my mouth and the older woman chuckled in response as the red in my cheeks undoubtedly deepened from my embarrassment.

  “I’ll make it happen, then. Have a nice weekend, hun.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. You too.”

  I practically skipped out of the room. Not only would we be in the same class, we’d sit right next to each other! Why did sitting next to him in class send tingles down my spine and make my toes curl? I’d sat next to him a million times. It seemed special all the same.

  Floating home on clouds of anticipation, I mapped out in my head all the empty seats in my other classes, wondering if Micah might be sitting in any of them on Monday. Two classes on A days and another on B days had an empty desk right next to me. Could I be so lucky?

  I struggled against my hopes. Couldn’t get too excited. Couldn’t expect too much. Only one class together. We’ll probably have one class together. I repeated the mantra all weekend long as I looked forward to seeing my best friend again. But Monday had different plans.