And just like that, with a few careless words, I can no longer breathe.
My clothes feel tight, as I’m suddenly aware of every inch of my body, what feels right, what feels wrong.
If I pass.
Can Nate tell there’s something wrong with me?
Is it too hot in here?
Nate jumps in when I don’t answer. “Nah, she ain’t from here,” his hand brushes my back, like he can see how uncomfortable I am.
If only he knew why.
“Iris moved here this year. She’s the new art teacher.”
Savannah keeps looking at me, assessing, despite the fake smile. “Huh,” she draws the word out. “Guess you have one of those faces.”
“Guess so,” I force out, attempting to sound normal, but I know I don’t.
Finished with me, she turns back to Nate.
“Anyway, it wasreallygood to see you,” she says, slipping back into her weird ‘talking to Nate’ tone. “Maybe we can catch up sometime.”
“Probably not,” he says, staying firm.
“We’ll see. It was nice to meet you, Iris.”
“You too,” I whisper, but before I can get it all out, she turns and walks away down the hall, her stupidly perfect hair bouncing, as if nothing had happened at all.
The moment she’s out of sight, the silence is deafening.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Nate says, his brightness from earlier diminished. “Didn’t know she was gonna be showing up here.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It just… it caught me off guard, is all.” I look down, but he closes the space between us.
His fingers find my chin, tilting my face back up. “Hey, you’re the one I’m with, and I’m damn proud of it. That ain’t gonna change cause we have to see her now and then.”
My throat burns, but I nod, “I believe you.”
I wish that were the truth.
I’m at the school later than usual, hunched over a pile of assignments I haven’t graded yet, determined to finish before winter break.
I’m almost finished when the door creaks open. I look up, expecting to see Layla coming to drag me to our dinner plans.
The last thing I’m expecting to see is Savannah standing in the doorway.
She looks as perfect as every other time I’ve seen her this week, but I’ve been trying to ignore the jealousy that churns in my gut at the sight of her.
Nate is with me.
He’s happy.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
“Hey,” she says, her voice coming out sickly sweet. “Got a sec?”
“Um, sure.”
