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  Deliciously tense, I tried to deflect. “And… do you stand this close to everyone, or am I just special?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, narrowing his eyes in thought. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  My mouth opened, but I wasn’t sure what to say, because I had no idea what that meant, if anything. Only a soft breath came from the very back of my throat, stopping on the sweet scent of his vibrant, chocolaty cologne.

  David nodded to the door beside us. “Did you need to go?”

  Go? I forced myself to look right.

  “The bathroom,” he added.

  “Ur, yes, I kinda did.” Oh, God, awkward meter off the scale.

  “I’ll mind your bag.”

  “Okay, I’ll just be a sec.” I passed it to David then pushed the door open to a nose-burning bleach smell, mingling with other rancid scents in the heat of the only non-air-conditioned room in this school. And as the door shut quietly behind me, a voice rose above the putrid smell with familiar content.

  “The girl in the yellow dress?” it said.

  I stopped dead, remaining in the concealment of the dividing wall.

  “Yeah, the new girl,” another replied.

  I cringed. This was that moment where you decide to either walk in there and act like you didn’t hear, or stop and hide, hoping they wouldn’t discover you. I should’ve read up on this in the How to be a New Student without Looking Like an Idiot guide.

  “What did you think of her?” she continued.

  “Well, she’s pretty, I guess.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I mean, did you see how blue her eyes are? Like, so wasted on her face, right?”

  Ouch.

  “Yeah, totally. You want some?” the other girl said.

  “What scent is it?”

  “Sunlight Breeze.”

  “Yeah.” A long hiss of a spray can sounded before the sharp, choking fumes of deodorant filled the tiny bathroom. I covered my mouth, silently coughing into my hand.

  “And did you hear? She’s already got her claws into David Knight?”

  My heart jumped. Claws?

  “Yep. Typical. He doesn’t like her, I heard. He’s just interested in her because she’s wearing a dress and it’s, like, easy access.”

  My eyes all but jumped out of my head, but as soon as the echo of her voice retreated, I felt my heart break a little. David was being overly nice to me. I’d met new guys before. Cute guys, ugly guys, nice guys, and jerks. Never a guy like David. Which did have me wondering all day if he was put up to this—if he was being nice because someone dared him to.

  “That must be it, I mean, come on,” she said. “He’s way out of her league.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what she thinks he wants with her. Did you see her outside just now?”

  “Yes, oh my God!” The other laughed. “She has so never had a boyfriend before.”

  “Probably still a virgin.”

  I swallowed, shrinking.

  “Mm. I give it a week before he loses interest.”

  “A week? That’s generous. Maria said the girl has, like, scars on her face.”

  My breath froze halfway through a gasp, the walls closing in around me.

  “True? No way? That’s so gross. I wonder if he’s noticed them.”

  “How can he not? Apparently they’re—” A face appeared right in front of mine, and everyone took a breath.

  While I stood frozen in humiliated stillness, a blonde girl just looked me over, focusing on my scars, then threw her hair back and opened the door, dragging a dark-haired girl behind her. I hid myself in the corner as bright light from the corridor filled the room, disappearing with their sudden high-pitched cackles.

  Layers of my soul slowly peeled away like an unfurling blossom, petal by petal. I blinked the tears free, unable to move or think or breathe, focusing only on the impression of my nails digging into my palms.

  They were right. David was probably showing interest in me as a joke or a bet he made with a friend. I was stupid to think he hadn’t noticed my scars.

  I touched my jaw, my fingertips shaking, and as my desperate urge to go to the bathroom faded, a longing to go home came in its place, stepping aside for the rolling in my stomach. I clapped a hand across my gut and ran for the toilet.

  * * *

  Even as I rinsed my face and washed my mouth out, the voice of that girl played in my head: “Out of her league… A week before he loses interest… scars.”

  Somehow, the idea that David would be grossed out by me had taken over my fear of being new, and I wasn’t sure what had gotten in to me even thinking that his sudden and exclusive attention could be genuine.

  In the mirror, my face looked pale and washed out, which made the scars look red and menacing, worse than they did this morning. I leaned closer and poked about my chin, moving my skin to get a good look at the tiny little dots covering the right side of my jaw from under my chin to the top of my collar bone, like a fine sprinkling of nuts on a sundae. The weird thing was, I hardly ever noticed them anymore. It was like my mind subconsciously blacked them out. But I knew they were there, and I knew everyone else could see them. Including David. I just felt so stupid now.

  The real world sucked so much more than my mom said it would.

  I splashed another handful of water over my face and grabbed a few sheets of paper towel, pausing when the door opened but no one came in.

  “Ara?”

  I froze. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Are you… are you okay?”

  I laughed. He probably thought I fell in. “Um. I’ll be out in a sec.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” he said, his tone a little flat. “Answer me, or I’m coming in. Are you okay?”

  “I… I’m good.” But I wasn’t, and the mirror too clearly reflected the sadness in my eyes. The mask I’d become so good at holding in place hadn’t slipped, but cracked completely, and the self-pity I’d battled so hard against suddenly won the war. I took a deep breath and looked my reflection square in the eye. “Every ache is a step toward redemption,” I told myself. I still didn’t believe it, though. Nothing could undo what had been done and I knew, eventually, Karma would come to claim my life in repayment. But not today.

  I straightened my shoulders. I just wanted a little more time believing David might like me—even if it was just a bet or a game. If I could just believe it for today, I would never ask for anything else. Ever again.

  As I stepped into the corridor, I drew a deep breath and looked sadly at the boy leaning over the railing. Midday shadows highlighted the contours of his shoulder blades and showed the bones along his spine. If I knew him better, if we were close, I’d slowly trace my finger down his back, feeling how solid and real he was under my touch. Except, right now, I wanted nothing more than to run over and tell him everything those girls just said in the hopes he might correct me—tell me that it was insane and that they were wrong. Only problem was that, if they were right, he wouldn’t care if my feelings were hurt; he’d probably just cringe at my hysterics, and dust me off like a cobweb.

  He turned around and smiled at me with those kind, warm eyes, and I almost cried, blinking rapidly until, as the tears receded, David’s arm landed around my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Mm-hm.” I nodded.

  He stood taller, his jaw going stiff as he looked at the two girls from the bathroom, now whispering to each other by an open locker in the corner. “You’re not okay. I can tell.”

  “Perils of being new.” I flashed a grin.

  “Or perils of gossip,” he said, checking over his shoulder before looking back at me. “Do you mind if I teach those girls a lesson?”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Just go with it, okay?” he whispered in my ear, so close that his breath tickled my cheek. “Are they watching?”

  I cast my eyes to them. They stared on with arched brows, lips curled in disgust. “Yeah. They’re watching
.”

  “You ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  “This.” He gently wrapped his fingers around my arms and walked me backward, past our bags and the stack of books, until my spine pressed against the cold wall.

  “What are you doing, David?”

  “Giving them something to talk about.” He propped his forearm on the wall, bending at the knees as his face came in line with mine. My eyes stayed on him, locked to his every move, trying to predict his next. But even though he moved his hand slowly to my face, I still jumped internally when his thumb unexpectedly touched my cheek, gently sliding down then across my bottom lip. I could taste something sweet on his touch, and I wanted so badly to make a joke, wanted to run or hide, or close my eyes and breathe him in. In fact, I thought I was holding my breath, but as his lips hovered in front of mine, the warmth he exhaled went into my lungs. But he didn’t kiss me. He just smiled into me, speaking with his eyes. I knew what he was doing, and he knew, if he had any sense at all, what this closeness was doing to me.

  I swallowed, my mouth watering, but the good feeling slinked away as the two girls walked off in a huff, flipping their hair. I looked up at David, who smiled in a way that made me feel like I belonged here. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?” He leaned a little closer.

  I stopped him with a hand to his firm, cool chest. “You… you made them think we were kissing.”

  “Yes.”

  “But, don’t you get it? They’ll spread this around to everyone—tell the whole school you were kissing me!” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Precisely.”

  “But—” Against everything inside me, I pressed my hand more firmly to his chest and shoved him away, then rolled out from the wall and flung myself across the corridor. It was true what they said: this was a bet. Why else would he have done that?

  “What does it matter if they tell everyone?” He slowly turned around, holding his arms out wide.

  I looked into the sunny courtyard below, leaning my elbows over the cold metal bar. “Do you really want people thinking you like me?”

  “Ara.” He appeared beside me, our arms touching. “What would be so wrong about liking you?”

  I shook my head, refusing to point out the obvious.

  “You’re a very sweet girl. And you don’t deserve to be the victim of other people’s cruelty. I would rather they told the whole school I was kissing you in the corridor than to have them talk about you like that.” He pointed back to the bathroom.

  “You heard that?” Everything suspended in slow motion around me. “How did—”

  “Bathrooms echo, Ara.”

  It felt like a hot-air balloon had just been let off in my face. I bit my quivering lip tightly. “I can’t believe you heard that.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” David gently grabbed my wrist and started walking, dragging me along behind him. “They’re not nice people. I’m just sorry that, of all the girls you had to run into in there, it was those two.”

  “Well, thank you”—I stopped and pulled my arm from his grip—“for standing up for me. No one’s ever done that before.”

  “Really?” He looked amazed, or maybe mortified.

  “I never needed it.” I reached down and picked up my bag as an excuse to avoid eye contact. “Thick skin and quick wit were kind-of a requirement at an all-girls’ school. But… I guess I just lost my nerve.”

  “You shouldn’t have to stand up for yourself, Ara. People should mind their tongues.” David softened a bit then, quickly bending to grab our books off the floor by his feet. “And for the record, mon amie, despite what those girls just said”—he took a step closer—“you are not a dare or a bet, and I happen to think you are very pretty.”

  Yep, that did it. Cheeks hot; heart tumbling down the stairwell; lust-meter at fifty. “So, you… you speak French?”

  “Seulement quand je parle avec mon cœur.” David started walking, but I caught a glimpse of a smile as he turned, shouldering his bag.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Google it.”

  A second passed before I forced myself to run after him. “I will, you know.”

  He just stared ahead, his dimpled smile keeping my eyes as we walked in silence.

  3

  “How do you know where my next class is?” I asked David, walking quickly to keep up with him.

  “I read your schedule, remember?”

  “Yeah, for two seconds. I can’t even remember what classes I actually signed up for.”

  David said nothing, just smiled—a kind of secret smile—as we headed back up the stairs past a waving carrot-top girl.

  “Um, hi,” I muttered, returning the wave.

  “That’s Ellie.” David leaned in. “She’s in our music class.”

  “Oh, okay.” I looked back down the stairwell at her just as she glanced up to gush over David. “She likes you.”

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s just… I don’t know.” He shrugged once. “I think they all suffer from the same disease around here.”

  “Disease?”

  “Wanting what they can’t have. It takes over their minds.” He tapped his head.

  “Oh, so you think you’re too good for them?” I challenged playfully.

  He fanned the collar of his shirt, humor lighting the smugness on his face. “I don’t think I am. I know I am.”

  I laughed. “So… you’ve really never dated any of the girls—ever?”

  “No. And I don’t plan to.”

  “Oh,” I said, falling suddenly through the earth. Guess that ruled me out, too.

  David’s head whipped up as he came to an abrupt halt. “Oh. I… uh. I really didn’t mean it like that. I—”

  “I need my books now.” I pointed to them, masking my disappointment.

  He gently drew them from the stack and placed them in my waiting hand.

  “Thanks.”

  We stood looking at each other for a moment, the sound of the teacher’s voice echoing out from my History class beside us.

  “So, this is your class,” David said.

  “I figured.” I smiled softly, but my heart was completely broken.

  “Right.” He nodded to himself. “Guess the voice was a giveaway.”

  I frowned at him. The teacher’s voice was the giveaway, but I wasn’t sure how he could know that unless he knew who the teacher was to me. I turned away quickly to avoid that conversation. “Well, thanks for walking me.”

  “Hey, Ara.” He grabbed my arm. I looked up from his hand to his lovely green eyes. He let go. “When I said I don’t plan to date, I wasn’t talking about y—”

  “It’s okay, David, you don’t owe me an explanation.” I tried to grin. “I only just met you, right? And I hadn’t placed myself in that category anyway.”

  David’s jaw set stiff, his eyes fixing on the ground.

  “So, I’ll see ya later?” I said, slowly backing in through the doorway.

  “Ah-ha!” the teacher said. “Ladies and gentlemen, we finally have a new student.”

  I turned away from David, leaving our conversation before he could respond, feeling better seeing a familiar face in the room. “Hi, Dad,” I whispered so no one else would hear, stealing a quick glance at the now empty corridor.

  “Attention, please.” Dad’s voice rose above the chatter. Everyone hushed. “This is Ara-Rose. I’m sure some of you have already met her—”

  “Actually…” I cringed. “It’s just Ara.”

  He looked sideways at me. “Okay, this is just Ara.”

  “Nice to meet you, Just Ara,” someone called from the back of the room, and a low hum of laughter erupted over the entire class.

  “Settle down, Maverick,” Dad said sternly.

  “Good one, Dad,” I said sarcastically under my breath.

  “Uh, Emily?” He ignored that, aiming his voice to a girl in the front row of the raised auditorium-style seating.


  Without hesitation, the same girl I met this morning, with her swinging ponytail, bounded over like an excited puppy. “Yes, Mr. Thompson?”

  “You’ve met Ara?” Dad aimed his thumb at me.

  “Yes, sir.” She added a little too much ‘cutesy’ to that eyelash batting, and my mouth fell open. She totally had a crush on my dad.

  “Right. I want you to help”—he looked at me as he passed some papers to Emily—“Just Ara?”

  “Ara’s fine,” I said. Hint, hint.

  “Help Ara get up-to-date with our lessons, please?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Thompson.” Emily grabbed my hand and dragged me to sit next to her—right in the front row; right where Dad would be able to see my every move.

  “Um, do you always sit here?” I asked, plonking down.

  “Yup. I can see the teacher better.” She watched Dad walk across the room and push the antique gramophone that was normally in our attic out of the way.

  “Why would that be a good thing?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She motioned her open palm to my dad. “Look at him.”

  Uh-oh. “Um, Emily—”

  “Isn’t he cute?” she continued. “Don’t you think he looks just like Harrison Ford, but, like, Indiana-Jones-Harrison-Ford?”

  I glanced at my dad, my nose crinkling as I took more notice of his graying light-brown hair and the creases he’d get around his kind eyes when he smiled. I guess he did sort of look like Indiana Jones.

  “Emily,” I whispered again.

  “Yeah.” She sighed, dreamily gazing up at him.

  There was no easy way around it. I had to tell her before she embarrassed herself further. “He’s… my dad.”

  She spun around so quickly that I jumped. “You are kidding me. Oh my God, Ara. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m so sorry. I just… I didn’t realize you were—”

  “We are so having a sleepover at your house.” She practically jumped in her seat. “I’ve had a crush on Mr. Thompson for, like”—she flipped her head to one side—“two years.”

  My tongue pushed into the side of my cheek. I really did not expect that. I thought she might be a little humiliated at the least, but I guess it was better this way. “Two years, huh?”