“Yes, ma’am.”
“Make sure it stays covered. Better get before you’re late and he sees fit to give you another one.”
I hurried down the stairs and out to my car. When I was inside and the doors were locked, I let out the breath I was holding.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Brody was already sitting at our table when I walked into biology. He looked up when I walked into the classroom.
“Hey,” I said, hanging my bag on the back of my chair.
“Hey yourself.”
“Did you have a good weekend?” I looked at him, sitting down and angling my body toward him.
“Not particularly. You?”
“No. Not really. I did have another chess tournament Saturday.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?” he asked, looking down at his notebook, doodling on a sheet of paper.
“I lost two out of three games.” I shrugged a shoulder.
He turned his head to me. “You lost? What happened?”
“I guess I didn’t have any incentive to win. There were no promises of a burger afterward.” I gave him a small smile, trying to break the ice between us. It felt like the iceberg that took down the Titanic was sitting between our chairs.
He didn’t smile back. Sighing, I bent over to grab my biology book and notebook. I flipped open the flap of my bag and reached inside when Brody’s hand darted out and grabbed my wrist. His other hand moved my shirt to the side.
“Don’t,” I whispered, pushing his hand away. He waved off my hand, his eyes never leaving the mark on my chest. He made a fist with his hand, placed it over my chest, and inhaled sharply.
“Who did that to you?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I just shook my head.
“Willow, who did that to you?”
“No one. I mean, I just got pushed in the crowd at the football game Friday night. It’s no big deal.”
Brody’s face turned hard. “You’re lying,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s not from getting pushed. That’s from a hit.”
Pushing Brody’s hand away, I pulled my shirt back over my shoulder before anyone walked by and saw the bruise covering it.
“Who did it?” he asked again.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Willow—”
“Just drop it. Don’t say anything to anyone. Please.”
Running his hand through his hair, he let out a frustrated sound before flipping his book open. He stared at it a few seconds before slamming it shut so hard I flinched. He stood quickly and his chair rocked backward, hitting the table behind us. I watched him as he stalked out of the room without a word.
Class was half over before he returned. After handing a tardy slip to the teacher, he sat down next to me. He didn’t look at me the rest of the class period and when the bell rang, he slid his things off the table and left the room. He didn’t speak to me in English class, leaving as soon as the bell rang.
“How’d things go this morning?” Jenna asked on our way to history.
“They didn’t,” I mumbled.
“That good, huh?”
“Yup. I think we’re back to square one. Open hostility. Brody Victor and I just aren’t meant to be friends, or anything else. We just don’t gel.” I stared at the floor so she couldn’t read the disappointment in my eyes.
“What about Brody Victor?” Jaden hurled himself over the railing of the stairs and landed in front of me. He slipped his arm around my waist, kissing my neck.
“He’s a jerk and a royal pain in the ass,” I said and smiled at Jaden, turning my face up to his for a kiss.
Brody and I sat next to each other in every class for the rest of the day except one, and he didn’t speak to me in any of them. I wasn’t sure why he was upset with me—it wasn’t any of his business—but it was obvious that he was pissed. It wasn’t until independent study that he spoke to me. We’d gotten in the habit of sharing a table in the back of the library. It was quiet and secluded. Generally, we worked on our homework separately, sometimes we’d work on our assignments together, and occasionally, we’d talk—although that didn’t happen often without one of us insulting the other.
“Is it Jaden?” Brody asked. He pulled out a chair, flipped it around, and straddled it.
I sighed. “No. Please, just drop it.”
“Who else knows? Jenna? Tim?”
“They know some, not everything.”
“And they’re fine with it?” he asked, his voice rising.
“Shh! No, they aren’t fine with it, but they respect my privacy and understand that, while they might not agree, it’s still my decision to handle it the way I want.”
“The bruise on your arm the other day, that wasn’t from a fall, was it?” When I didn’t answer, he nodded. “And the long sleeves even when it’s warm outside, that’s why you wear them. You’re hiding bruises.” It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t answer. “There are places to get help—”
I fiddled with the pages of my open textbook. “I’m fine.”
He reached out, gently took my chin in his hand, and pulled my face around so I was facing him. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see pity in his.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “Willow, look at me.”
I opened my eyes. There was no pity in his eyes, only concern. “I want to help. Let me be here for you. Anyway you need me, just let me help.”
I plastered on my best fake smile. “Thanks, but I really am fine.”
“A bunch of people are going to The Dive,” Jenna said as we shoved our books in our locker after school.
“What’s the occasion?”
“It’s the end of this freakin’ horrible Monday, that’s what the flippin’ occasion is,” she muttered, mashing her notebook on her overstuffed shelf.
“Sounds good to me. I’m in,” I said. I had homework in calculus I really should’ve taken home and worked on, but it wasn’t due until Wednesday and I didn’t feel like doing it. “Screw it.” I shoved the book in my locker.
I’ll do it tomorrow in independent study.
I drove to The Dive. The place was already jumping by the time I got there. Music was blaring from the large speakers hanging in the corners, and the noise from people talking was almost deafening. I looked around until I spotted Jenna and Tim sitting in a booth in the corner of the restaurant.
“How’d you score this booth? It’s my favorite,” I said, scooting in. It was a circular booth that looked like it’d been pushed into the wall. It was nearly surrounded by windows overlooking the outdoor eating area, which was always hoppin’ during the summer.
“Someone got here before us and saved it,” Tim said. He didn’t look at me when he answered. That was my first clue something was up.
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
Jenna shrugged and changed the subject. “Hey, look, there’s Sarah. I wonder who she’s doin’ today.” That was my second clue.
I opened my mouth to ask them again who saved the booth, but I felt someone slide in next to me, and then I smelled him. Third clue and ding, ding, ding. The light bulb went off.
Oh. Just. Kill. Me. Now. It can’t be him.
“I’m going to hurt you,” I whispered to Jenna.
She smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “He asked us to sit with him.”
“Hey,” Brody said, his voice both husky and smooth at the same time, which, of course, sounded ridiculous, but somehow he pulled it off. And, holy Hell, it was sexy. My stomach fluttered every time he spoke, and, yes, even when we traded insults.
I looked over my shoulder. “Hey back.” I smiled at him. “Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to get out of here. Jaden will go apeshit if he sees me sitting with you.”
Brody leaned in close. His lips skimmed my ear when he spoke. “Is that when he hits you? Will seeing you sitting here make him mad enough to hit you again?”
I inhaled a sharp breath and pulled away. “Move.”
Brody slid out of the booth and let me pass. I looked up just as Jaden walked through the door, followed by a group of his football buddies.