I looked at her again; her expression was totally serious now.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s better if we’re not friends,” she explained. “Trust me.”
My eyes narrowed. I’d heard that one before.
She seemed surprised by my reaction. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I guess… that it’s too bad you didn’t figure this out earlier, saved yourself the regret.”
“Regret?” My answer seemed to have caught her off guard. “Regret for what?”
“For not letting Taylor’s van crush me when it had the chance.”
She looked completely shocked. She stared at me for a minute, wide-eyed, and when she finally spoke she almost sounded mad.
“You think I regret saving your life?” The words were quiet, just under her breath, but still pretty intense.
I glanced quickly toward the front of the room, where a couple of kids were still lingering. I caught one of them looking at us. He looked away and I turned back to Edythe.
“Yeah,” I said, just as quietly. “I mean, what else? Seems kind of obvious.”
She made the strangest sound—she exhaled through her teeth and it was like a hiss. She still looked mad.
“You’re an idiot,” she told me.
Well, that was my limit.
It was bad enough that I was so fixated on this girl, bad enough that I thought about her all the time, dreamed about her every night. I didn’t need to sit here like the moron she thought I was and just stare while she insulted me. I grabbed my books and lurched out of my chair, knowing all the while that she was right—I was an idiot, because I wanted to stay, even if all I got to hear was more abuse from her. I needed to get out of the room as fast as possible, so of course, I tripped over the threshold and half-fell through the doorway, my books scattering across the sidewalk. I stood there for a second with my eyes closed, thinking about leaving them. Then I sighed and bent to pick them up.
Edythe was there; she’d already stacked them in a pile, which she offered to me.
I took them without really looking at her.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“You’re welcome,” she answered. Still mad, sounded like.
I straightened up, and hurried to Gym without looking back.
Gym didn’t make my day any better. We’d moved on to basketball. On the first day, even though all of them had seen me play volleyball, the other kids still seemed to think I should be good. It didn’t take them long to figure out the truth. They never passed to me now, which was good, but with all the running I still managed to have a few accidents per game. Today was worse than yesterday, because I couldn’t concentrate on my feet. All I could think of was Edythe.
It was a relief, as usual, when I was finally free to leave. I couldn’t wait to be back inside my truck, alone. The truck was in pretty decent shape, all things considered. I’d had to replace the taillights after the accident, but that was it. If the paint job weren’t already hopeless, maybe I would have had to do something about the new scrapes. Taylor’s parents had to sell her van for parts.
I rounded the corner and nearly had a heart attack. Someone small and thin was leaning against the side of my truck. I skidded to a stop, then took a deep breath. It was just Erica. I started walking again.
“Hey, Erica,” I called.
“Hi, Beau.”
“What’s up?” I asked as I went to unlock the door. I glanced down at her, and fumbled my keys. She looked really uncomfortable.
“Um, I was wondering if you would go to the spring dance with me?”
I carefully inserted the car key into the lock.
“Sorry, Erica, I’m not going to the dance.”
I had to look at her then. Her face was down, her black hair hiding her eyes.
“Oh, okay.”
“Because I’m going to be in Seattle,” I said quickly, trying to make her feel better. “It’s the only day I can go. So, you know, oh well. I hope it’s fun and all.”
She glanced up from under her hair. “Okay,” she repeated, but her voice was slightly more cheerful now. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure,” I agreed, and then immediately regretted it. Hopefully she wouldn’t take that too literally.
“See ya,” she said over her shoulder. She was already escaping. I waved, but she didn’t see it.
I heard a low laugh.
Edythe was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, her mouth not betraying even the hint of a smile.
I froze for a second. I wasn’t prepared to be so close to her. I was used to bracing myself before Biology, but this was unexpected. She kept walking. I jerked the door open and climbed in, slamming it a little too hard behind me. I revved the deafening engine twice and reversed out into the aisle. Edythe was in her car already, two spaces down, sliding out into the lane in front of me, cutting me off. She stopped there—to wait for her family, I assumed. I could see the four of them walking this way, but they were still all the way back by the cafeteria. I looked in my rearview mirror. A line was beginning to form. Right behind me, Taylor Crowley was in her newly acquired used Sentra, waving. I ducked my head and pretended I couldn’t see her.
While I was sitting there, focusing all my efforts on not staring at the driver in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. It was Taylor. I glanced in my mirror again, confused. Her Sentra was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway there, then gave up.