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I’m still struggling, Ollie’s voice lost in the rising roar of panic in my ears, when Everett’s hold goes slack.
Ollie steps away from me, falling silent, and they both turn and walk away quickly, casting glances over their shoulders.
I stagger back and try to catch my breath, wondering what happened and who I have to thank for this respite.
Then I see Jarett.
I should have known. He’s one of the few people the bullies are afraid of. He hasn’t noticed me, I realize. He’s just passing by, his wide shoulders and the strength in his body, the intensity of his gaze and general presence commanding attention.
He swaggers by, and the guys step back, while the girls sigh. He never seems to notice. And he’ll never know how he’s saved me time and again from the bullies just by being here.
My heart bangs about in my chest. I want to smile and cry at once. I want to plant myself in front of him, throw my arms around him, and ask him to hold him.
I want to turn around and go before he sees me and this complicated feeling in my chest grows stronger and chokes me up.
This truce between us... no, not truce, that’s not the right word. This understanding, maybe, this arrangement, the tacit agreement that we’re friends without benefits and with many boundaries, friends who skirt the real issues and only hang out together sometimes making small talk... isn’t enough for me.
But it will have to be.
It’s pretty clear Jarett doesn’t share my feelings, and that he needs a friend, someone who’ll put up with his shitty mood swings and stubborn silences, and in exchange for his protection from the bullies I’ll be that friend, if it kills me.
***
“You’re shitting me.” I shoot my mom un incredulous look.
“Augusta, language.” Sometimes I think Mom is sad she never gave me a middle name to call me by when she’s upset with me. “It’s our best option.”
“Best for whom?”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, don’t throw a tantrum now, Gigi.” Mom puts her fists on her hips and glares at me. She’s a copy of me—or rather, I’m a copy of her. Same hair, same eyes, same mouth, only hers is thinner, especially now when she’s flaming pissed. “Best for all of us. When have I ever put myself before you?”
God, she’s right. I’m just so angry, so frustrated.
We’re moving house. Moving away—from this neighborhood, this street, this school.
So not fair. Just when I decided that I can’t keep away from Jarett, that I’ll try to be his friend, she goes and springs this on me? Sure, being his friends is not what I want, but it’s something. Moving away would be to lose him completely.
I can’t. Can’t give up on him. On this strange relationship we have. On the hope that one day things could change.
“Honey, listen.” Mom sighs and lets her hands drop to her sides. “I know it’s a shock. But I didn’t realize you’d take it this hard. Merc seemed happy when I told him. I know you made friends here, but you’ll make new ones. Besides, we’re not moving all that far. Just to the other side of the city. Not to the other side of the country, or to the moon.”
She’s right. Moving won’t change anything. I’ll keep in touch. With Sydney. With Jarett. Right? Nothing to worry about.
Even if I don’t have Sydney anymore to gossip about everyone and everything during break.
Even if I don’t have Jarett to walk home with and check out in the garden as he rakes the leaves, shirtless and sexy and...
Yeah. I’ll be fine. It will be fine. Has to be.
I repeat that to myself while Mom explains why this is a good move. How this neighborhood is getting dangerous, how this house is falling apart, how much better the new house will be, how marvelous our life will be from now on.
It occurs to me she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.
Anyway, looks like it’s a done deed. My opinion doesn’t count. Not being an adult yet sucks. We’re staying here until the end of the month, then going, and that’s in less than two weeks. I’m too shocked to throw a fit over the fact Mom has obviously been sitting on this for some ti
me but didn’t see fit to tell me.
Probably because she knew I’d throw a fit.
