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So when I saw Cassian and Gage sitting without Logan, I asked what was up.
Gage set his phone down. “Take yourself a seat, Tristan.”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“Because you’d be happier if you just sat down and stopped asking questions.”
Cassian nodded, although he looked darkly amused. “He’s probably right. Because if you see who Logan ditched us for, you’re going to lose it.”
I followed his eyes. Logan was sitting by one of the windows with Kennedy. First, they’d been standing together at practice all buddy buddy. Now this?
I walked over to them. “What are you doing?” I asked Logan.
“Talking,” he said. He threw his arm over the back of the bench, looking up at me.
“To her?” I added a little extra sneer to my voice.
Logan raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “To Kennedy. Yeah.”
“Whatever. Come on, Wheels. We can film that shit you wanted now.”
I jerked my head away from the table, sticking out my hand for her to take it so I could help her into her chair.
“No.”
“No? You’ve been pestering me for this footage for days now. Come on. You can have it.”
“I was talking to Logan. And I still have half a sandwich to eat. So if you want to film the interview so bad, we can wait until after practice today.”
“Come with me,” I said coldly.
Kennedy surprised me by slamming her sandwich down on the table. She pushed up, standing while supporting herself on the back of the bench. She tried to stick a finger at me, but then her eyes lost focus. She slumped backwards, legs crumpling from under her.
I barely managed to catch her in my arms before her head hit the bench. My heart was pounding as I eased her into her chair. I got to the back and was about to push her to the nurse when Logan started to get up.
“I got this,” I said.
“I’ll come with you.”
I put my hand on his chest. “This is my fuck up. At least let me be the one to fix it.”
He stared for a few seconds, then sighed, grabbing the remains of Kennedy’s sandwich. He pointed it at me. “You do anything shitty, and I’m done playing nice. Got it?”
“What am I going to do?” I asked. I wanted to punch him, but I knew I was pushing my luck already. I’d been in too many scuffles at school lately, and another public fight would probably get me benched.
“Just take her to the nurse,” he said stiffly.
I turned, wheeling her out of the cafeteria and ignoring the way people were looking at us. Wheels looked like she was slowly coming to. She put a hand to her forehead and groaned.
I was halfway to the nurse’s office when Kennedy finally spoke. “Wait, where are we going?”
“To the nurse. You passed out.”
“No. You can’t take me to her.”
I paused. “What? With how paranoid your mom is, I think she might try to kill me herself if I didn’t.”
“She doesn’t—” Kennedy cut herself off, making a frustrated noise. “I’m fine, okay? Just let me go back to class.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not having your death on my hands. We’re going to the nurse.”
“Tristan, please,” she begged.
I hesitated. Something about the sound of her begging undid me. I gripped the handles of the chair tighter, running my mind over my options. “I’m not taking you back to class. You can go home, but you need to take it easy.”
“You’re being ridiculous. I’m fine.”
“The nurse, or you go home. You choose.”
Wheels groaned. “Fine. Take me home, then.”
She sat in my passenger seat with her arms crossed, staring out the window. She looked good. The sun was catching the red in her hair, making it look like it was on fire. I decided that was fitting. Wheels had more fire in her than any other girl I’d ever met. Maybe that was what kept drawing me back to her. I’d always embraced pain and trying to hold on to Wheels was like holding onto an open flame.
“You really don’t know what’s wrong with you?” I asked.
“You know the placebo effect?”
“Yeah, like someone gives you a sugar pill but tells you it’s aspirin, so it fixes your headache anyway.”
“My mom says it works the other way, too. If I know all the things that are wrong with me, I’ll probably start feeling even worse. I’ll look up symptoms and start convincing myself I have them. Same with the medications. It’s why she takes the labels off.”
“Seems like that should be your choice,” I said. “I’d want to know.”
“My mom is a nurse.” Wheels’ tone was clipped, like I’d hit a nerve. “I’m pretty sure she would know better than you or me.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Wait,” she said as we drove by her house. “Where are you taking me?”
“You can either go sit in that boring ass room of yours, or you can come to my place and have some drinks.”
