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“The list of who hates some of us is longer than others.” At his pointed look, I flipped him off. “Maybe it’s not hate.”
“You think it’s jealousy?”
“I think people can be cruel. Frankie never made waves. Most people like her. She’s funny, she’s smart. She doesn’t pigeonhole in any one group.”
“You could make that argument for all of us though,” I pointed out. “Face it, Jake and Bubba are jocks, you’re emo boy, and I’m just a geek.”
“You’re a rich geek.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’m a rich geek. But the same thing applies. We all have different interests. Jake and I do the engineering thing, Bubba’s got his music, you and Frankie have your research and lit—though Jake’s arguably more into books and history with her than we are. You also like psych.”
“You want to tell me something else I already know?”
I wasn’t offended by the challenge. Actually… “Frankie’s done nothing but study the last few years, she’s pulled back on her extracurriculars.”
“She has since she started at Mason’s.” Coop shrugged. “Part of why she kind of fell out with the other girls. She wasn’t doing anything with them, and we hogged the rest of her time.”
I stared down at the ribboned circles I’d been decorating. Frankie worked, a lot. Coop had had jobs on and off over the years. Coop had been delivering food since he got his car, but he’d also had part-time gigs. But Frankie worked more than all of us combined.
Money couldn’t solve everything, but it could make a person more comfortable. I’d never had to get a job. Not once. As far as I knew, neither had Bubba. He’d done volunteer work, but his parents were comfortable enough.
It wasn’t fair.
Of the five of us, Frankie had been working steadily since the day she turned sixteen in our sophomore year. She hadn’t even slowed down, heading to Mason’s right after school and applying for the job. Almost two years she’d worked there.
“Hey, Arch…”
“What?” I glanced at Coop, who was staring at me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
His phone buzzed, and Coop picked it up. “Jake’s got the mums, and he’s almost here. Said Bubba’s following him.”
“Yippee.”
“I thought we worked things out with him,” Coop tested.
“You one hundred percent good with the fact he hurt her?” Because I wasn’t. I still hadn’t forgiven myself.
“No,” Coop admitted. “Jake told her she doesn’t have to dance with him tonight either. I feel bad for the guy—doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to do the work.”
“Good.” Bad enough the assholes decided on her first dance without me there, but I could always make sure I got the last one. “Fuck…it feels weird that he’s on the outside.”
“Yep. Feels like we should be helping him.”
“But I don’t want to.” And I didn’t. “I told him what I thought. He dug that damn hole and tried to throw all of us in it.”
“He meant well.”
“They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” At the same time, it was true for all of us.
“Look,” Coop said as he set the last of the ribboned cardboard circles down. “We don’t sabotage him. We’re there for him if he needs to talk. We support her. At the end of the day—it’s not about what we want.”
