A firm hand grasped my shoulder. I jumped.
Pete leaned forward. “Hey,” he whispered. “Everything okay?”
His warm breath sent shivers down my spine again . . . shivers of fear. I hadn’t gotten around to answering him when the bell rang, and didn’t get a chance to utter a word because, quick-as-one-of-her-winks, Ashley-Leigh came bounding over. She took one look at my face and turned to Pete, batting his arm playfully. I marveled that it took her this long to find an excuse to do that.
“Pete! What did you do to upset poor Katie?” she scolded.
“I have no idea.” His eyes searched mine for answers.
“Well, you have to be careful with her little feelers—she’s like a baby.”
“She’s a babe all right.”
Pete’s remark visibly rankled Ashley-Leigh, but she quickly recovered, rambling on as Pete collected his things. He zipped up and shrugged his backpack on then turned his back on her, waiting for me to do the same. A look of desperation clung to her face.
“I don’t know if Katie has mentioned it,” Ashley-Leigh gave me a pitiful look, taking hold of my arm with her cold hand, “but her mama passed away a couple of years ago, and she’s been all torn up ever since . . . so you gotta be real careful what you say.”
That got his attention. We simultaneously stiffened at her callous remark. I was too fascinated by the way color began creeping along the ridge of Pete’s cheekbones to bother replying. I sorta felt a little afraid for my oblivious frenemy still uselessly gabbing away. I needn’t have worried though, because he quickly composed himself. Turning a stony face to her he said, “Excuse us, Ashley, we’re going to be late for class.” Then, removing my arm from her hand, he slung my backpack over his shoulder and steered me out of class.
“Uh!—it’s Ashley-Leigh!” she called, but we’d walled up on her, neither one turning around.
A bright, cloudless sky greeted us outside the door, and as we tromped across campus, I saw Miguel and some football buddies shoot us dark looks. I heaved a sigh. It appeared I could make no one happy today—not even myself.
Pete finally broke the silence: “With friends like those . . .”
“. . . who needs enemies?” I finished for him, but couldn’t think of anything else that needed to be said. We continued through the doors of the main building, up the steps to the second floor, and down the long, lockered hallway with a stretched-out silence trailing us. It seemed he already knew the route to my Chemistry class without being told. Just filed that under more proof Cadet Davenport had been spying on me.
Black-topped lab tables set with white microscopes came into view, which meant we’d reached our final destination with only a sentence split between the two of us. Pete handed over my backpack but didn’t immediately take off. He leaned a hand on the wall behind my ear, an enigmatic look upon his face. It seemed as though he were going to say or do something, but nothing happened except for some jaw-rubbing.
He sighed deeply. “Wait for me after school?”
I also leaked a sigh. “I don’t think so.”
The look on his face was the kind that matched my tone. “I hope you’ll change your mind,” he said then strode back down the hallway with me, the QB1, and everyone else, staring at his tight end.
I mulled over his immediate reaction to Ashley-Leigh’s digs. Even an Oscar-winning actor couldn’t be expected to instantly put that angry burn on his face. A warm feeling engulfed me when I thought of the ways he had come to my aid since we’d met. Ugh! I was so completely confused. Ignoring a Safety Precaution sign posted on the door, I headed to class feeling a glimmer of hope that for once my intuition would be wrong.
Chemistry was a blur of meaningless letters and numbers. I was on automation, still trying to sort everything out. Miguel was loudly ignoring me today. I thought it best to just let it go for now. Eventually, he’d come around. Truthfully, he was doing me a favor, because I was too preoccupied to deal with him on top of everything else right now. The bell rang and I headed to gym, alone, still undecided about waiting for Pete after school.
Several girls attacked me the moment I stepped foot in the dressing room, wondering how I knew the “hot, new guy.” I was less than vague in my response, and was immensely grateful when Coach Sams blew the whistle for us to line up. We filed through the gym, past the volleyball players, and hit the exit doors and sunshine. The boys were already suited up and outside kicking the ball around. But they weren’t the only ones suited up and ready to go . . .
The cheerleaders decided to leave the comforts of their air-conditioned gym for the great outdoors today. They had spread out close to the boys’ P.E. soccer team and not the varsity football team like they usually did when they came outside for practice. Looked like interest in our pathetic gym class was picking up.
That wouldn’t sit too well with the jocks. Sure enough, some of the football players nudged each other and nodded at Pete. All eyes focused on the athletic god dribbling the ball across the soccer field with practiced ease and hammering the poor goalie, who gave a half-hearted attempt to stop the bomb that blasted his way. It looked like he was out there playing with peewee leaguers. An immediate great cheer sprang from the ogling cheerleaders. I shook my head then gave the soccer ball a good, swift kick. It flew right past the stringy junior playing goalie to be the first goal of the day.
Coach Sams blew the whistle. “Great job, Connelly!” She came trotting over with her practical, close-cropped hair and interest in me. I braced myself for what was coming. “Hey, Katie. How ya doin’ these days?”
“Fine, thanks.”
She cleared her throat. “I was wondering . . . are you still babysittin’ those brothers of yours after school?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She deflated a little. “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked to have seen you play ball this year—you got a lot of potential for sports.”
My face warmed. “Thank you.”
She regarded me for a thoughtful moment. “Okay . . . get back out there.”
Trotting back out to the scraggly field, I saw a bunch of purple helmets— that included Miguel—huddle up and talk amongst one another. They weren’t really doing anything out of the ordinary, but I still got the feeling they were up to no good.
A spasm of fear for Pete’s safety clenched my stomach. I didn’t think they would jump him or anything. Deep down Miguel was a good guy; I didn’t think he’d be involved in anything so ugly. Still. I had a sick feeling about it. Pete had done me the courtesy of saving me from a couple of close encounters, so the least I could do was warn him that some football players might be scheming against him.
The signal for the end of school sounded, and I filed back in with the athletically-challenged class, glad to be in the cool air-conditioning for a few moments before heading back outside. I quickly got dressed and headed to the parking lot to wait for Pete by his very flashy vehicle.
After a few minutes of standing around in my blue bell skirt, feeling alternately stupid and worried, I finally saw him emerge from the gym doors. A couple of guys immediately accosted him, and I braced myself for a showdown. But they seemed to have nothing more on their minds than sports talk. I watched them pantomiming athletic moves while admiring the long, lean lines of Pete’s body from a distance.