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I can’t help but grin. Will does seem like a moody guy. “I still like him. His mind is so quiet. If I focus on him during first period, it helps. It doesn’t completely block out everybody. But it’s still manageable. At least, until they were all screaming at me.”
He tilts his head, studying me. “How did you handle New York City?”
I rub my hand over the front of my dress. “I stayed home a lot. I only left our penthouse when my dad forced me to. He thinks I need social interaction, but I’m fine on my own.”
“You really didn’t have friends?”
I shake my head. “It’s hard to be friends with somebody when you can read their mind. It’s incredibly hard to carry on a conversation like that.”
“But you can’t read my mind.” Parker gives me a curt nod. “So you and I can be friends. Blaine will be your friend too.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have to read Blaine’s mind to know that he’s got a bit more than friendship on his mind.”
“Blaine doesn’t date. He flirts and pretends like he’s a player, but he’s never even kissed a girl. Trust me, Henley, you’ve got nothing to worry about with him.”
My jaw drops open at his confession.
It’s hard to believe that a guy like Blaine has never kissed a girl. I might not be interested in dating him, but I’ve got eyes. He’s very good looking. Not to mention, most of the girls in this school want to date him.
“What about you?” Parker asks, looking down at his shoes. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
I laugh at his question.
His eyes snap up to mine.
The smile slips from my lips. “You’re joking, right? I’ve never even had a crush on a guy before. It’s hard to like any teenage boy when you know exactly what he’s thinking.”
“Yeah, I supposed you’re right.” Parker rubs a hand on the back of his neck.
I dare to look into his blue eyes. “Did you mean what you said?”
“Which part?”
I lean forward. “That we can be friends.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. Of course.”
A friend.
Areallyattractive friend.
Still…
I, Henley Stone, have a friend.
Parker stands up and holds out a hand to me. “Since you’re feeling better, we should head toward class. Second period is about to start.”
I accept his help, my entire body relaxing as our skin touches. I have no idea what that’s about, but it’s addicting.
Later on, during lunch, I wonder what I should do. Do I brave it and head to the cafeteria? Or do I skip and sit by my locker? And if I did go to the cafeteria, who would I sit by? Even though Parker said he wanted to be friends, that doesn’t mean I’m invited to sit with him and his friends. He might’ve agreed to be friends because he felt sorry for me.
After first period, everybody has been watching me, their thoughts very loud. But it’s been manageable. Something about Parker helps block the noise. I don’t dare say anything to him about it—I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. My problem is not his to deal with.
I stop in the hallway, trying to decide which way to go. It only takes a second for me to realize I don’t want to go to the cafeteria. I don’t want a repeat from yesterday. Instead, I walk to my locker. I get out a sock that I’ve been knitting and I sit on the floor.
Since I was little, I’ve enjoyed knitting. It helps me focus on something else and block out all the noise around me. Because of my weird hobby, I’ve knit a lot of socks. And sweaters. Dad and I probably have hundreds of pairs of hand knit socks that we haven’t even worn yet, just because I’ve made so many. Every time I hand my dad a new pair of socks, he just laughs.
I’m focused on my sock, so I don’t notice somebody walk up until I see red sneakers.
