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“No.” Hunter paused. “Maybe. I can’t get a read.”
“A girl doesn’t steal your food if she’s not into you.”
“She’s unusual.”
“Dude, no offense, but you’re unusual.”
Hunter smiled briefly but then sobered. “We talked for a long time Friday night. Her father is serving in Afghanistan, so she lives with her aunt and uncle. I think she’s lonely.”
Gabriel looked for Calla in the lunch line. Punk hair notwithstanding, she had a good six inches on most of the girls around her, and she helped the effect by wearing a shirt that revealed a long stretch of tan midriff. “Calla Dean is the captain of the girls’ volleyball team. She could probably snap her fingers and have guys bringing her lunch on their knees. She is not lonely.”
“I don’t think that’s the kind of attention she’s looking for.”
Gabriel shoveled another mouthful of macaroni into his mouth. “Oh, you mean you didn’t spend the whole evening showing her your Arabic tattoo collection?”
“Farsi. And I don’t have a collection. Just this one.” He pointed to the inside of his elbow.
“What’s it say?”
“Nothing important.” Hunter nodded toward Calla, who must have grabbed something easy, because she was already paying. “What do you want to do about the fires?”
Gabriel scowled. It was easier talking girls. “I don’t know.”
Hunter’s voice was careful. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” Gabriel glanced across the cafeteria, at where his brothers were sitting. Chris and Becca, Nick and Quinn. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since he’d spent Sunday sleeping off the effects of Saturday’s fire. “For the first time, I feel like I’m doing something right.”
CHAPTER 30
Almost by accident, Layne found her days falling into an easy routine.
It shouldn’t have been easy, what with the catcalls in the hallway at school, the jokes about scars and burn fetishes. The worst was when she didn’t know what they were talking about then it was embarrassing and humiliating.
Then Gabriel would appear at her shoulder and she’d remember she wasn’t alone.
Every day, they spent fifth period in the library, going through the day’s math assignment. Gabriel was getting better. He wasn’t fast, but he was trying. She could see it in the classroom, too. Instead of slouching in his seat, scowling at the board, he was actually paying attention. When he dropped his homework in the basket on Ms. Anderson’s desk, he did it almost defiantly, like throwing down a gauntlet.
He’d be back on the basketball team in no time.
In a way, it made Layne sad. Because now, after the last bell rang, he sat with her on the bleachers and watched Simon’s basketball practice. In a few weeks, he’d be in practice himself, and she’d be sitting here alone.
At first, Gabriel would make little comments to her, about what Simon needed to do to improve. When Simon would glance up at them, Layne would translate Gabriel’s remarks into quick signs.
When Gabriel realized what she was doing, he asked her to show him the signs, too.
She’d almost fallen off the bleachers. No one had ever asked her to teach sign language.
So she’d shown him some basics, for the most common criti-cisms he was shouting out, blushing as his eyes held hers while she moved his fingers into the right formation.
But afternoons in the school gym couldn’t compare to the mornings at the farm. She’d always loved the cool silence, the easy solitude when it was just her and the horses. But now each moment carried a hint of anticipation.
Gabriel had shown up every morning.
He always looked deliciously sexy, his hair tousled from the run, a night’s worth of stubble along his jaw. He told her it took twice as long to get to the farm as it did to get home. When she’d given him a puzzled look, he’d almost blushed and said, “I don’t want to be a sweaty mess when I get here.” Then he’d kissed her for so long that she’d forgotten her name, and he’d whispered against her cheek, “But it’s okay if I’m a sweaty mess when I leave . . . ”
But he never pushed her, never demanded more than she was ready to give. His hands never ventured outside of those safety zones, never even tried to get past her clothing. If her body stiffened at his touch, he backed off.
But now, after days of being good, her imagination was starting to get the worst of her. What if Gabriel felt her scars and thought she was disgusting? Talking about them in theory was a lot different from seeing red, puckered skin running up the side of her abdomen.
