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He slopes his head, studying me. “Ask what you really want to know, Kayla.”
The bell resounds.
I boldly raise my head, but the question dissolves on my tongue. The truth is visible in his dark blue gaze.
The hushed voices around us fill the background.
Some disperse to their class, while others linger, observing our interactions. Perhaps it’s still strange to see Brandon converse with someone, a girl that’s not his sister.
After a hard swallow, Brandon tells me, “Yes, I saw Heath. I was out for a run, and he happened to be in town at the time.” He combs his fingers through his tousled hair, then adds, “Nothing happened. I left him there and went home.” He pauses again, watching my face while staying impassive. “I didn’t push him, Kayla.”
My heart’s thumping like conga drums at a festival, and I can’t seem to settle the misbehaving organ.
I believe Brandon.
Are you serious? Doreen’s voice reproaches.
And as I’ve been doing for the past few days, I shut her out of my head.
“Why’d you ignore my text?” I whisper.
His eyes droop, welling with misery.
Right as Brandon is about to answer my question, Ms. Hall calls his name.
She’s standing a few feet away with a gentleman in a formal shirt and pants.
“A word, please,” she says, motioning for Brandon to follow them.
Brandon cuts back to me. “I’ll see you in class, little artist.” He walks away with the guidance counselor and the man.
My shoulders slump at an overstated sigh.
At the late bell, I snap out of it.
“Come on,” Rajid says at my back.
I swivel, surprised he waited.
Sam walks by then. Her slight wave to me is awkward as hell. Even worse, she doesn’t utter a word or look at Rajid.
It sucks that Natalie is pushing me away, but now Sam is giving me the cold-shoulder?
She doesn’t speak to me in English either, sending weird looks at Rajid and me.
Her behavior concerns me as much as Brandon not showing up. I wonder if he’s in trouble due to the situation surrounding Heath. While I’m disgusted with the latter for his nasty comments and placing a bet on me, I do feel bad that he was in an accident. Those are incredibly nerve-racking for me, considering that’s how I lost my sister.
Sam remains mum in social studies, too. Adding to that, Brandon still hasn’t returned.
At lunch, I decide to eat outside by myself.
Amid nibbling on a sandwich, I work on another sketch of Brandon—my fifth since meeting him. Yeah, I’m pretty much out of my mind at this point.
“Great sketch of my bro,” Britney chirps, startling me.
I quickly shut the book.
She settles next to me at the table, sleek ponytail hanging over one shoulder. Her skin is pale, as always, with subtle makeup. There’s hardly anything on her tray—only a bottle of water and a small portion of fruits.
