Are you still here?
Tuesday, 9:51 PM
Are you mad at us?
Tuesday, 9:56 PM
Please reply. I’m sorry. Pick up?
Tuesday, 10:24 PM
Is this Juliette? I don’t have
your number saved. I’m not
mad. Sorry, I went home. I
think I have salmonella.
Read Tuesday, 10:25 PM
Even though Juliette and I had sent a few back-and-forth texts on Tuesday night, I still wasn’t totally convinced everything was okay with me and the girls until I got into homeroom on Wednesday. On time, I might add. Early, even. I’d barely sat down at my desk when they swarmed. Anyone would think I was Harry Styles.
Juliette spoke first. “Ollie-oop! I didn’t think you’d come in. What with the salmonella and all.”
Well, from her sarcastic tone it almost sounded like she doubted the validity of my food poisoning. “It was the mild kind of salmonella poisoning. Like, the two-hour-long kind.”
Juliette and Niamh nodded like this was completely understandable. Lara watched me like a cat stalking a fly.
“Okie doke,” Juliette said, scooting onto my desk again. “First up, the whole Will thing … you can trust us to keep it a secret. He knows we wouldn’t tell anyone.”
I tossed up whether or not to insist they had the wrong idea about Will. Only problem was I couldn’t really remember how much I’d told them in the first place, and to be honest, it was probably too late to backtrack now. So I nodded and glanced around to make sure no one had overheard.
“Also,” said Niamh, “we found out why he disappeared off Instagram.”
“Did you speak to him?” I asked quickly, half-horrified, half-eager.
The girls looked offended. “Please. You’re as subtle as a sledgehammer,” Lara said.
“We have our ways,” Juliette added.
“Lara’s close with his friend Matt,” Niamh said. “Matt said that apparently Will got his phone confiscated for coming home at four in the morning before his family was supposed to drive home. So, we figured that was probably right around the time you stopped hearing from him, right?”
“Right.” Shit, did I look like I was thinking about Will naked? Because I was most definitely thinking about Will naked. I couldn’t help it. That night brought back memories. And I knew damn well why he didn’t get home until almost dawn that night.
“Apparently he was skinny-dipping with a bunch of girls from the lake houses,” Lara added with a smirk. “Did you and Will spend much time with all of those girls?”
Like I said, I knew damn well what he was doing that night, and it wasn’t a girl, that was for sure. If Lara was trying to upset me it was working. So this was the story he was telling everyone? I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me so much. It’s not like he could say what had really happened. But shit. It hurt anyway. I wrung my hands, furrowing my brow.
“Oh, sorry … did you not know?” Lara asked, all fake concern.
I plastered a smile on my face and looked back up. “It’s fine. How was your night? I saw you with a girl before I left the party.”
It was petty, but hey. It’s not like that was private. She’d done it with thirty-odd people practically munching popcorn in the front row.
Niamh snorted, and Juliette grinned, nudging Lara. “Did you get too drunk again, by any chance, Miss Lara?”
Lara held my gaze. I could read her expression fluently: “challenge accepted.” Uh-oh. “Maaaayybbeeee,” Lara said to Juliette.
“Lara kisses girls sometimes when she’s drunk,” Niamh said. “And we know it’s because the guy she likes gets off on it, but she won’t admit which guy it is.”
“My bet’s on Matt,” Juliette said.
Lara scoffed. “Please, peasants. Also, I don’t kiss ‘girls’ plural. Just Renee. We have a symbiotic relationship.”
Juliette shook her head. “Yeah, well, I hope you’ve at least disclosed which guy you’re trying to impress to her. It’d be awkward if you both had the same conquest in mind, don’t you think?”
“Ask me no question, I’ll tell you no lie,” Lara said, glancing at me as Ms. Hurstenwild gestured for everyone to take their seats. I raised my eyebrow at her. Ever so briefly, she looked rattled. Then she turned away from me without a word.
I had a feeling I knew what she was trying to achieve by kissing Renee.
And I had a feeling I knew why it was such a secret.
Guess the secret was ours, for now.
To my relief, I still hadn’t run into Will. I knew it’d happen eventually, inevitably, but I wasn’t ready for that encounter yet. It was overwhelming enough trying to navigate my way from class to class. Which, I might add, had so far been distinctly Will-l ess. So far, our timetables hadn’t crossed paths once, and I only had my English and Music Appreciation virginities to go. As of right now, Will was nowhere to be seen in English, and class was due to start any minute. And no way in hell would Will be caught dead in Music Appreciation. He hadn’t even known the difference between a piano and a keyboard last time we talked about music. Looked like I was about to hit a home run. No shared classes with Will Tavares.
Question is, was I thankful or disappointed?
Before I decided, the question became redundant. The teacher, a man who was so young he could’ve been any of our slightly older brothers, had just gone to close the door when a group of guys skidded through, ducking under his arm like a high-speed game of limbo.
It was Will. Will, and a couple other guys I remembered him standing with last night. He didn’t seem to have noticed me yet. He and Matt had spotted a lone desk in the back of the classroom, and they were in the process of racing each other to it, each pulling the other back by their T-shirt to gain distance. God, he looked beautiful. He looked confident. He looked like the kind of guy I’d never, ever, in a million, jillion years think I’d have a chance with.
Matt beat Will to the desk by half a foot, and dove into the chair. Will grabbed his arm and yanked it playfully, offering bribes to convince him to give it up.
“Will, sit down,” the teacher said wearily from the front of the classroom.
Will straightened and whirled around. “Hey, Mr. Theo, what’s up? I didn’t know we were gonna have another year together. Sweet!”
Matt covered up a laugh with an obvious cough, and Will shoved him, smirking.
“I was hoping you might have been kept back a year. I prayed for escape,” Mr. Theo said. “But once again, the fates mock me. Take a seat.” He indicated a desk in the second row, a few chairs to my right. It was too tight an angle for me to stare at the back of Will’s head for long. How disappointing.
Will swung his backpack as he walked, the straps clacking against the metal desks and chair legs. “Anyone would think you weren’t happy to see me,” Will said in a fake hurt voice, pressing his free hand to his chest.
“I’ve never been much of a masochist, Will.”
The classroom hummed with soft laughter, but it didn’t seem to be at Will’s expense. There was clearly some sort of inside joke here that I was missing. Which, to be fair, effectively described 90 percent of my “new-kid” experience to date.