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Graham groaned and dropped his forehead to the table with a thump.
Claire’s face was hotter than the sun.
“Nancy,” Graham’s dad chided with a poorly contained grin. “You’re embarrassing them.”
She didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Our room is right next door. Honestly.”
Graham sat up and pressed balled-up fists to his forehead. He looked at his mom with incredulous eyes, and finally landed on Claire. “I think it’s time for us to go.”
“Oh, come on,” his mom laughed, “I’m just teasing! Let an old, sick woman have some fun.”
“There is zero fun here.” Graham looked at Claire. “Are you having fun?”
It felt weird to admit, but... “A little. It’s mostly awkward, but a tiny bit fun. Like, ninety-ten.”
“What about yesterday when we played gin rummy?” his mom asked. “That was fun, right?”
“The one time I beat you, yes.”
Graham shot his mom an impressed look. “She only beat you once? I haven’t beat her yet! Teach me your secret.”
His mom eyed him. “I don’t think I will.”
Graham threw up his hands. “I can’t win around here.”
Claire snorted. “Especially not at cards.”
They headed back to Denver that afternoon. As they passed Westfield High in the daylight, Claire eyed the fancy buildings and football field, shivering as she remembered the way he’d pressed her against the wall under the bleachers and kissed her like it was his last day on earth.
He sat beside her, seemingly intent on looking anywhere but the campus, his large body filling the seat, dark head leaning back against the leather.
“Graham?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you tell me what happened with Angela?”
He stared at her for a long moment before turning his attention straight ahead, considering.
When he didn’t speak for several seconds, she realized she’d never hear the real story. Disappointment burrowed deep, surprising her. It shouldn’t matter, but she’d really thought they’d become closer.
She thought he saw her differently and trusted her enough to open up. She’d learned more about him in the last few weeks than in years prior and he’d brought her to Santa Fe, but apparently there was still a line he refused to cross.
Swallowing a thick lump, she sighed. It was probably for the best, since she planned to put some distance between them when they got back, anyway. “Never mind.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him tilt his head back, resting it against the seat. “I told you I was the poor kid at that school. That I didn’t fit in.” He ran a hand down his face. “In middle school every day was complete misery. I hated it so much, I can’t even describe it. But my dad worked damn hard to get me there, and he and my mom were so sure with a good education I’d have a better chance at college and beyond. Neither of them went to college, so it was a huge deal to them. So I sucked it up and got through it.
“In eighth grade Angela and I were paired up for a science project. She was actually nice to me, and I thought we’d become friends. She talked to me in science class and even acknowledged me in the hallways. She was popular, attractive, and the first person to treat me like I wasn’t complete trash. I fell hard for that girl, and out of some stupid boyish grandeur, I asked her to the school dance.”
“She said no?” The words tasted like acid in her mouth.
The laugh he released then was harsh and clipped. “Not only did she turn me down, she did it in quite spectacular fashion. I became the laughingstock, and the rest of that year was even worse than before.”
Claire gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. Anger rushed through her like a Colorado river after massive snowmelt. Sure, it had been a long time ago. But she also knew how defining those middle school years could be, a critical time for self-esteem and influencing the way kids saw themselves and other people. Wounds inflicted in those awkward, should-be-gentle years of young adulthood seemed to heal much more slowly than any others she’d obtained.
Hell, she still remembered the name of her first boyfriend in sixth grade (Drew Nesbitt) and how he broke up with her (he drew a picture of a dump truck and asked a friend to pass her the note) just one week in. It had sucked, and that was with a ton of friends to lean on. She hadn’t been a loner or had an entire class laughing at her expense.
It must have been terrible.
