AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Turning back to my locker, I reached for the lock, but it was gone. I could only assume that it had been too soiled to save.
“Looking for this?”
I jumped again at Bo’s voice. He was standing behind me holding a shiny new combination lock.
“She had the janitor come and cut it off right after lunch so nothing would get stolen until you got here,” Bo explained.
I felt more than a little ashamed at how jealous I’d been of Savannah. She was obviously a decent person, and Bo really seemed to like her. Devon, too.
“She didn’t have to do this,” I stated quietly, finding the painted toes peeking out of my shoes very interesting all of a sudden.
“She wanted to,” he replied.
“When did she have time to clean it up?”
“She has third period study hall.”
I felt near tears again and it didn’t help when Bo tilted my face up to his. His eyes made me feel so amazing it almost hurt.
He’d been smiling, but slowly, his smile died as he stared into my eyes. For a moment, I saw exactly what I was feeling reflected in their lush depths—an attraction, a need, so great it was overpowering.
“Why can’t I stay away from you?” With his whisper, he rubbed his thumb back and forth across my chin.
All I could think of was that I didn’t want him to stay away, that I couldn’t survive it if he did, and though some part of my brain registered that such a sentiment was utterly ridiculous, I knew it was true nonetheless.
“Why do you try?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Do you always do the right thing?”
His lips twisted up into a wry grin. “Almost never.”
He made me want to smile, so I did. “Then why start now?”
In a rich sound that seemed to steal all the air from the hallway, Bo laughed. But somewhere, behind the sparkle in his eyes, was a sadness that I was noticing more and more often.
Before I could delve into the intrigue of it, the bell rang, rudely interrupting our moment. With a sigh, Bo said, “See you in Chemistry.”
I watched him go as if he was carrying a piece of me away with him.
CHAPTER FIVE
I watched the moonlit scenery fly by as the bus carried us home. For three days now, I’d managed to block out Trinity’s wicked digs and nasty comments. Luckily, though they’d abandoned me and chosen to take Trinity’s side, the others were a little less demonstrative in their shunning of me. Apart from the snickers behind my back, they more or less just ignored me.
Despite the fact that I’d known for a long time that I was surrounded by sharks, it still hurt to see them turn their backs on me so quickly, so easily. And it was all for the sake of popularity no less. It was a sickness, really, and they were fatally infected. I guess I should’ve been feeling sorry for them, but it was very hard to feel pity for them when they were all piled up in the back of the bus, laughing and making fun of me.
The fact that I was there at all was a monumental surprise to me. Not only was I still a member of the squad, I was also still its leader, at least for the time being anyway. Fortunately, my cheerleading fate had ceased to bother me anymore. It would be great to keep the status quo and get my scholarship to Stanford, but if I didn’t, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. My feelings for Bo had put that, along with many other things, in perspective.
In the last few days, my focus had shifted. My usually Stanford-focused tunnel vision was now a wide angle lens that captured all things Bo. When I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. When I wasn’t awake, I dreamed of him. When he was near, I could feel it, and when he wasn’t, I ached for him to come back. It was like he’d invaded my entire being, right down to my red blood cells, which seemed to swell with a longing for him that I couldn’t describe.
The closer we got to school, the more I could sense him. He’d be waiting for me when the bus pulled in. I was certain of it.
With a loud groan, the bus rolled to a stop in front of the school at the bottom of the parking lot. Being seated at the front (essentially exile in bus seat pecking order), I was the first one out the folding doors.
I wasted no time getting to my car at the top of the lot. I wanted to run, but somehow refrained from doing so. My pulse leapt when I saw Bo leaning up against the passenger side door of my car. It’s where I’d found him the last two nights after practice, too.
“Hey,” I said unimaginatively, wishing that my brain worked better when he was around. It went on hiatus and left my senses in control, which meant my vocabulary was roughly that of a toddler.
“How was the game?” He straightened and took my duffel from my shoulder.
“We won,” I replied, having no interest in talking about the game.
“It was the cheering,” he teased.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “I’m sure that’s exactly what it was.”
“Do you have to go straight home?”
“No. Why?”
“Just curious,” he said, enigmatically. “Can I drive?”
“Sure.” I handed the keys to him and he unlocked the passenger side and held the door open for me.
Once I was inside, he closed the door and rounded in front of the hood. My eyes followed him as he walked. I loved to watch him move. It was like watching water ballet or space acrobatics. It seemed as though gravity didn’t affect him like it did most people, like he was as light as the air through which he moved.
After pitching my duffel behind the seat, Bo climbed in and started the car, speeding away in the direction of his house.
Several minutes later, as I suspected, he pulled into his driveway and cut the engine. When he helped me out, he kept my hand tightly wrapped in his. Rather than leading me to the back door of the house, he surprised me by walking around the side to a set of concrete steps. He descended first, me following close behind.
At the bottom of the steps was an old red door with a small window at the top. I could only assume that it was the exterior entrance to a basement or cellar.
There was a padlock on the door that Bo unlocked using a small key on his keychain. When he pushed the door open, I expected to smell a gust of that musty odor that all basements seem to have, but I didn’t. It just got a whiff of Bo’s tangy scent.
