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“You’re a freak of nature,” she huffed out as she was jumping up, trying but failing to grab the notebook I was holding up and out of her reach.
“Just admit that I’m a superior mathematician,” I teased.
“You’re superior, all right...As in, you’ve got a major superiority complex.”
“And?” I goaded.
Out of breath, she held up one hand in surrender—or to shut me up. “And I wouldn’t have gotten a five on the AP Calc exam if it wasn’t for you. Satisfied?”
I nodded and handed her the notebook. “I’m glad you got a five. That means you can skip it next year, correct?”
“Yes, thank the Lord. It’s a prerequisite for biology majors and I’ll have enough on my plate as it is.”
“Bio is a good major. Gives you a lot of options.”
She paused, looking cautious for a moment before saying, “You should go back and finish.” When I turned away she put a hand on my shoulder, and her touch felt so good that it scared me off. I had to hold my tongue, keep myself from lashing out at her to mask my discomfort. “You’re smarter than I am, Liam, and I’m in the top five in my class. The top ten usually get accepted to ivy league schools...You should be on that path.”
I smirked when I said, “Yeah, I’m not exactly ivy league material.”
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re the very definition of it.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I don’t share with her that I’ve already finished high school, or that I’m signed up to take the college entrance exams at the end of this month like the juniors in her high school who got a late start or did crappy on their first few attempts.
I don’t want to tell this girl I got my GED even though there’s nothing wrong with it for other people. Seriously, it’s not an easy test if you’re not a student, and most people who go that route had a tough time in school. I helped Lorraine study for it a few years ago and she needed a second go at it before she passed by the skin of her teeth. But for me? For me it’s an embarrassment, and a constant reminder that I have a tendency to get in my own way, or self-sabotage, as my well-meaning high school guidance counselor put it.
Sarah let it drop, thankfully, but that conversation has been playing over in my mind in the weeks since. After dropping Mike off, I toy with the idea of telling her my plan, but I don’t want her thinking she’s had any influence over me, positive or otherwise.
She breaks into my stubborn inner monologue, looking out the passenger-side window when she says, “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”
“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”
“Did you know?”
I want to tell her that everyone with eyes, ears or half a brain knew, but I like her too much to kick her while she’s down. “He’s an asshole and she’s a bitch. It’s no reflection on you.”
“That’s just it....Penny isn’t a bitch. She’s been my best friend since fourth grade.”
She won’t appreciate my advice to be a little more selective when picking friends, so I keep that to myself. But I do ask, “What about him?” because I can’t help it, I’m too curious.
She nods. “Parker is an asshole.”
We drive in comfortable silence and eventually pass over into the part of Jersey that’s all rolling green hills and grand estates hidden behind stone walls and tall trees. “Where are we headed?”
“The stable.” When I don’t respond she says, “Please just take me there. I’ll hide out for an hour or two and then call for a ride.”
“I’m not letting you call a car service to pick you up. It’s dark and totally deserted at night.”
“I’m not going home.” She looks to me with sad, tired eyes. “I seriously can’t deal with them right now.”
“Your dad seems like a good guy.”
She’s twirling a piece of hair when she answers absently, “He is a good person. I always got the feeling he didn’t really like Parker. He never said it outright, but I could tell.”
“Then he’s a good judge of character, too.”
“Unlike yours truly?”
