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“You haven’t even tried yet?”
My heart sinks in desperation. What does he want from me? I’m not a miracle worker. “It’s not like there’s any chance of us running into each other. We have nothing in common.”
“You’ll have to think of something. Don’t you have any classes together?”
“No,” I whisper, and now I’m looking at the floor to hide the frustrated tears that want to fill my eyes. I manage to blink them back. Once again, I’m trying to explain myself, but the idiot I’m talking to doesn’t want to hear it.
“She likes books,” he mutters as we turn a corner. Nobody seems to be paying attention.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen her outside the library a lot. You should pretend you like books, too. You could meet her there.”
Pretend to like books? Um, I like books, too. I want to say but don’t. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’d better. We’ve been waiting long enough to get to her. We have one chance at it. Don’t screw it up for us.” That’s not exactly my fault, but it’s not like I’d say it out loud even if Marcel didn’t haul ass without warning.
I have a free period, meaning I could go to the library now. I don’t know if she’ll be there, but it might look more legit if I set up a habit of hanging out there. She could still be watching her back for all I know.
It isn’t Aspen I have to worry about.
It’s her asshole husband.
I barely realize it’s him rushing at me until I’m already crashing against the wall.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls in my face.
“What did I do?” I whisper, and I hate myself for whispering because it makes me look scared.
“Don’t fuck around with me. I saw you talking to him.”
“To who?”
“Enough!” He pulls his fist back, and I cringe away from the pain I expect to explode across my face. When he hits the wall beside my head, it doesn’t make me feel much better.
“You were talking with that piece of shit, Marcel, and don’t pretend otherwise.” He leans in close, blocking out almost everything around us. “I saw you.”
I should’ve known. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to watch out. Somebody’s always paying attention. “He’s in my math class. He was absent today and was asking me about what he missed.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“It’s the truth. What, I’m being forced to take classes here, but I can’t talk to anybody about anything?”
“You have a habit of talking to the wrong people.”
“How would I know, either way? I don’t know who’s who.”
“Right.” The snide smile he wears tells me what he thinks of that. It’s not even completely a lie. If Marcel hadn’t told me who he is, I would’ve figured he hates me as much as everybody else around here.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you miss your friends. Remember them? Rick and Bruno?” I can’t pretend the idea doesn’t chill me, which only makes his smile widen. Like he’s genuinely happy to see me shiver. “I can send you right back there and bring them in to watch you again. Only this time, the rules won’t be so stringent.”
“What’s going on?”
It’s like magic. The sound of Aspen’s voice changes him. He’s still scowling openly, but he’s not blocking me anymore.
She works magic on me, too, but in the opposite direction. My heart was already pounding, but now it’s thanks to the rush of being so close to her. The murdering piece of shit.
But now she’s here, in front of me, and I can’t waste time imagining how I wish I had the guts to kill her. Quinton might’ve done me a favor in the end.
One thing I know how to do is fake a smile. “Hi. We were just chatting.”
The skeptical look she gives him makes me wonder if she’s already warned him against messing with me. It gives me hope, as much as I don’t want to ever be grateful to her for anything.
I have work to do, though. I’ve got to focus on that. “I better get going. I wanted to check out the library, and I still keep getting lost in this place.”
Aspen’s eyes light up. God, I hate her. “I can show you! I could find it with my eyes closed.”
“Could you? I was afraid I’d end up missing half my free period just trying to find it.”
“It’s not that difficult,” Quinton mutters.
He’s not even going to bother pretending this doesn’t piss him off, is he? It’s not easy to act like I don’t notice.
“So how is everything going?” Aspen asks as we walk. I catch a few curious looks from others as we pass them by. I’m sure they’re asking themselves what the hell we’re doing together.
“It’s going okay, I think.” Is she for real? I can’t figure out if she’s asking because she genuinely wants to know or because she’s pretending. Then again, when I remember what she’s done, it’s easier to go with pretending. Nothing about her is real. She’s just putting on an act.
