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It makes sense, though. I rub my forehead, remembering how good this girl smelled at the wedding reception. She was beautiful and smart…like I remember I felt like I should protect her, but also, I could tell she wasn’t weak. I close my eyes, imagining her mouth and cheeks as she stood by those bookshelves. It was her.
I was right behind her, kneeling behind a wooden board thing, when I heard some Mafioso give my dad a stern warning. My dad who shouldn’t have been there at all.
I pack that part away and replay how I felt with her back pressed to my chest. Then I shake my head. All this shit is pretty weird. I’ve never thought about anybody this much, especially some girl I don’t really know.
I try to push her out of my head, and to help, I look for colors, like my old school told us to do. Check if there is any blue, or green, or red, or gray around, and find all of that color. It helps calm you down.
I’m feeling better as I swing a left into the hall that leads to the athletic wing. I’ve still got Elise on my mind, but sort of in the background.
Until I hear her voice.
Sheesh. I must not be— No. There it is again. That is her voice.
I stop to figure out where it’s coming from.
The hall is empty. I sweep my gaze down the dark purple tile, over the rows of gold athletic lockers. Mine’s not on this hall because of when I transferred in, but I don’t give a shit about what kind of locker I have.
“I said no, Bruce!”
Every atom in my body freezes as my eyes fix on the right side of the hall, where there’s a girls’ bathroom. I hear deep, male laughter. It’s the jeering kind, I realize as I step a little closer. “Just offering to help, since you helped me.”
“And me,” another male voice says.
I double check the restroom’s sign: Girls.
“I didn’t help you, no I didn’t. You two copied my test.” There’s a little breathless pause, and then her voice comes louder, harder. “Which, by the way, makes no sense because you’ll have to learn calculus at some point, but it’s also completely unfair to other people in the class who are struggling. Dr. Birkenmeyer scales our grades. You’re making other people’s grades worse when you get high scores like I do.”
Someone chuckles. “So then you’re part of the problem, too, Elise. Isn’t that how it works?”
“Well, no. Because I’m not cheating.”
“Not cheating, but sneaking around. What class are you skipping, O’Hara?”
“I don’t have a class.” She sighs, a little huff. “I’m an aide this period. For the assistant principal.”
“Does she know you’re in here?”
“No, but I’m sure she’d care much more that you two are.”
“We’ve got track. Coach Burns doesn’t give a shit.”
“This is the ladies’ room. You two should go.”
I step closer to the door as one guy chuckles. “What, you don’t like us in here? We both know you’re wet for Rainer.”
“Ewww, gross,” she says. “You two need to leave. Like right now. Really.” Her voice seems a pitch too high on that word.
“Or what?” I can fucking hear that asswipe leering.
And suddenly, I’m shoving through the bathroom door. I spot Elise between two porcelain sinks, holding that stuffed panda she dropped earlier this morning.
Bill Rainer and some prick I don’t know are right up on her, blocking her exit. Elise’s eyes are wide, her pretty mouth a small, alarmed “o.” Her eyes flare wider when her gaze collides with mine.
“Elise…” I say her name like we’re old friends as I stride toward her. I knock Rainer’s shoulder with mine, and the fucker has the sense to step aside.
“Hey.” My voice is soft—a cue. Our gazes lock again before I wrap a careful arm around her lower back. “Hey, E. Everything okay in here?”
I can see her puzzling things out. Then her eyes meet mine again, and her lips flatten. For just a second, she looks wounded, like a girl who’s asking for help. Then her whole face hardens, and she throws a glare over my shoulder.
“Rainer and Friedrich were just leaving, weren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Rainer says, already stepping back—but his dumb fuck friend wants to glare.
“Maybe how about staying the fuck away from someone else’s girl,” I say as I move my arm from behind Elise and take a step toward the two asswipes. Neither is especially threatening, but there are two of them. “What do you think?”
I get a shot of perverse satisfaction as their faces twist in fear. Rainer takes two more steps back and wheels around to go. Dumb fuck sputters for a second and then beats feet. Their footsteps echo off the mustard yellow tile.* * *EliseLuca Galante.
I don’t know him, but I know his name. I have since last year, when I realized I see him every morning—or I could, if I were willing to look behind me after getting out of Mercer’s car—which, as it happens, I’m not.
