“Fine,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely true. I was confused, exhausted, sad, and ashamed of myself for that look of disappointment on his face when he saw me talking to Damiel. More than anything, I wanted him to touch me as Damiel had.
He sighed and pressed the remote on his keychain. I heard the passenger doors unlock. “Get in.”
I looked at him, hesitating. Did he mean it? He gave me a nod and motioned inside. Gathering my dignity, I got in and closed the door.
“Fasten your seatbelt,” he said, shifting the car into gear. It still smelled new inside.
Rain had already soaked through my shirt; it clung cold against my skin. I wished I’d worn Gore-Tex. I tried to wipe the water off my face with wet hands, for all the good it did me. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
A ride home. That meant I had five minutes with him, tops. I was going to ask my questions even though I didn’t expect to get any answers.
“Why does it bother you when Damiel speaks to me?” I blurted out, telling myself I wanted things, Michael, to make sense.
His expression was intense but completely unreadable. I had to remember to breathe. He returned his focus to the road. “He’s taking from you.”
“What does that mean?” I wondered if taking meant flirting. “What is he taking?”
“How do you feel when you’re with him?”
How did I feel when I was with Damiel? Flattered, as though I was someone attractive and interesting. It was never about Damiel. It was about me. Being alone with Michael in his car was different. It wasn’t about how attractive I felt, it was a deep longing that I could hardly put into words. In that moment my whole body thrummed with it, and I found myself wishing Michael would notice me the way Damiel did, even once.
I could sense his attention on me as he waited for an answer, but I couldn’t face him. I focused on my school bag, playing with its stuck zipper.
“Wishing I was with you,” I whispered.
All the color left his face and it was his turn to look away. I realized that for as much as I’d listened to Heather advise Fiona about guys, I didn’t know a thing.
He pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked it. A heavy silence grew between us. The rain thrummed against the roof of his car and my heart stuttered anxiously against my ribs, like a hummingbird flapping its tiny wings.
He took a deep breath and his voice was thick when he said, “If I misled you…”
My heart stopped, and I blinked at him as heat filled my face. He hadn’t misled me. The feelings I had for him were one hundred percent my own doing. I should have known better.
“I’m not available,” he continued, “the way you want me to be.”
What did he mean,the way I wanted him to be? Any way I could be with him would be fine. Anything was better than not speaking at all. And then the pieces came together: gorgeous and unavailable. He had a girlfriend. Oh God! Why hadn’t I seen the signs before? He didn’t flirt with anyone because he was in love with someone else.
Not caring about the rain, I opened the door and dashed out of the car.
Michael caught up with me and grabbed my arm. I pulled it away.
“It’s wet,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
Tears burned my eyes, making me grateful for the heavy rain that washed them away, cooling my skin. “I’ll walk.”
“Come on,” he said, “don’t be foolish. You’ll catch a cold.” A wet strand of hair clung to my face. He brushed it aside, so gently, and a deep current trembled through me, compelling me toward him. It was all I could do to hold my ground. His eyes widened and he stepped back. In that moment, I knew he felt it too.
I glared at him. How dare he touch me? Why did he care? Why did he pay attention to me at all?
He shook his head sadly. “Mia, I’m…”
Taken. I know. I shook my head, not wanting to hear any more, and there was this look he gave me, a mixture of pain and something else—something forbidden—that made me want to kiss the rain from his lips.
The sky was filled with black clouds that made it seem more dusk than afternoon. Small rivers formed on the side of the road and dead leaves floated downstream to the gutters, filling the grates. If the rain didn’t let up soon, it would flood.
I couldn’t be alone with him now. It was too humiliating. So I turned and walked off. After a minute, I heard his footsteps on the wet pavement, his car door open and close. I wanted to look back but didn’t. I could tell he was still watching me. But as to why, I figured I’d never know.
Chapter Nine
I skipped school on Tuesday. Mom was at work, so I called in sick. Even after fifteen hours of sleep, I had to drag my heavy limbs out of bed. Black stains circled my eyes, and my nose was so stuffy from crying the night before that it was easy to pass for having a cold. With all the pandemic viruses going around these past few years, the school’s policy was to stay home until you could get your symptoms checked. This rule was working to my advantage today.
But really I couldn’t face Michael. Not after telling him how I felt. Not when he was seeing someone else.
I was lying on the sofa watching an old black and white movie on TV when Heather called. I checked my watch; her lunch break was nearly over.
“Will you live?” she asked.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll live.”
“Do you need anything? I know your mom works late. Chicken soup?”
I wished I could talk about what I was going through, but I’d never find the words without bursting into tears. I swallowed back the tightness in my throat. “Can you let me know what the math assignment is?”
“Sure,” she said. “By the way, Damiel was asking about you today.”
Right. Damiel. At least someone thought I was attractive. “Oh? What did he want to know?”
“Where you were, of course. I thought Fiona was going to fall over when he came by, she was practically swooning. He is really hot.”
“Is he?” I tried to sound nonchalant. She didn’t know he’d asked me out on Friday.
“Girl, are you dead? Half the school is talking about him. The entire female population, even a few of the guys.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked, flattered he let his interest show to my friends.
“That you were home today.”
“What did he say?”
“Not much. Michael came by to have lunch with Jesse, and Damiel was there. Talk about a weird vibe.” Her statement hung in the air. She was fishing for information.
Even hearing Michael’s name was hard. Thinking about him having lunch with my friends when I wasn’t there stung. Had he been waiting for me not to be around so he could visit with Jesse?
“Yeah, they have some kind of past.” I figured it was safe to share a little of what I’d heard.
“Oh.” I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. I was pretty sure she wanted to know how I knew that, but I wasn’t ready to tell. “He seems into you, Mia. You should go for it.”
“Who?” I asked, my mind still faltering back to thoughts of Michael.
“Damiel, of course.” She quipped, “Are you on cold medication or something?”
I laughed. “Kind of.”
“Michael asked about you, too.” Had she read my mind? Known who I was really thinking about?
“Oh,” I said, trying to mask the sinking in my chest, the strange blend of hope and despair that Michael brought up in me. “What did he want?”
“To know where you were,” she said. “That’s all he said.”
I could have taken his asking about me to mean he cared a little, but really I wished he would forget about me. Or at least forget everything I said in the car yesterday. How could I face him after that?
When I didn’t say anything, Heather added, “Hey, lunch is over. I gotta go to class. I’ll e-mail the math homework to you.”