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Justin smiled benevolently at me. “Are you okay?”
I nearly flinched. The exact same words had meant so much more coming from Isaac. Isaac had asked me because he cared. Justin asked me as a segue to his own feelings.
“I really was worried about you. We all were. I dropped your friends off and then I tried to find you.”
I hadn’t been gone long enough for that to be true, but I was too tired, too drained to argue.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He smiled. “Forgiven.” He bent to kiss my cheek but I moved out of his reach.
“Okay,” he said, his smile tightening. “Good night then.” He looked over my shoulder and waved to my father. “Good night, sir.”
I could have puked.
“Good night, Justin. And thank you.”
“Of course.”
I couldn’t shut the door on him fast enough.
My father stood with his arms crossed, now looking like an angry coach whose athlete had blown the big final match.
“That’s how you treat him? He spent all that money on a limo for—”
“He didn’t have to do that,” I said, looking down at my bare feet. “I told him not to. I told him we were going as friends.”
“Why? What’s wrong with him? I had such high hopes tonight. For the first time since last summer, you were acting more like yourself. Granted, your friends weren’t what I expected, but it’s progress from having none at all. But you did the same thing to Justin that you did to Xavier…”
My head whipped up and I stared. “I did what?”
“Xavier’s also a fine young man and I thought he was interested in you—”
“Interested in me?”
Once more, the blood drained from my face, this time from the memory of Xavier’s benevolent smile. Spreading wide like the Cheshire cat’s. Let me get you something to drink…
“He’s my boss’s son,” Dad said. “It would’ve been smart of you to put some effort into that relationship.”
“Dad,” I said, my voice trembling with cold. “I’m tired and I want to go to sleep now.”
I started toward the stairs, but he reached out and grabbed my arm.
“If I find out you were with Isaac Pearce tonight instead of Justin, I will call Martin Ford the same minute and tell him you’re no longer able to perform in his show. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” I said, looking down at my arm where he held me. Little black X’s spread out from under his hand, skittering over my skin like ants. “I understand perfectly.”
Willow
I spent a sleepless weekend, mostly curled up on the floor in my room. I called Ang
ie and told her what happened—that Isaac had given me a ride home, but nothing about our dance. Monday morning, I stood in a daze at my locker at school. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Justin tapped me on the shoulder with one finger. Gone was his friendly, put-one-on-for-the parents smile and instead he wore the angry mask of a popular guy who got stood up by his date.
“What really happened the other night?” he demanded.
I took a step back. “Didn’t we go over this on Friday? I told you. Claustrophobia attack or something. The gym was too crowded. I didn’t have my phone.”
“Or did you leave to go see Isaac? You know I see how you look at him at rehearsal.”
