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The first was the one he’d missed while he was hugging Becca.
So are you the pot and I’m the kettle?
Hunter looked up, scanning the hallway, which was quickly emptying of students. If Kate had been watching them, she wasn’t around now.
He looked back at his phone and scrolled to the next message.
Who’s the brunette?
Wow. His fingers flew across the screen.
She’s just a friend.
Her reply popped up in a heartbeat.
She looked very friendly.
He frowned at the phone and typed furiously.
I heard you were pretty friendly with some guy with a pickup truck.
A long pause. Hunter felt his heartbeat slamming against his rib cage.
It felt fantastic to push against someone, to have the upper hand about something.
But it also felt like crap.
You build everyone up to be your enemy.
Did he really do that?
The phone chimed.
I don’t understand what happened.
He frowned at the phone. Then typed.
Me, either.
And he waited, but she didn’t write back.
All day.
At the end of the day, Hunter drove to the Merrick house, but he sat in the jeep with the engine running.
It felt ridiculous, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was welcome for another night. He hadn’t gone to the cafeteria at lunch, because he’d been making up a quiz he’d missed while job hunting, and it wasn’t like he and Chris ever said a word to each other in World History.
Really, if Casper weren’t locked in the house, he might have gone back to the Target parking lot again.
His breath was fogging in the confines of the car, and he swore. He wasn’t used to being so off balance.
Finally, he threw himself out of the car, setting his shoulders and shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. If they didn’t want him here, he’d just grab his dog and leave.
The front door was unlocked, but Casper wasn’t inside the house. No one was.
For an instant, Hunter wondered if this was some big trick, if they were all screwing with him.
Then he heard a dog bark from the backyard.
