Maybe it would have been something else keeping us close.
I really mean it when I say this—I should have been a better friend. If I was enough for you, then maybe you wouldn’t have wanted to join them. Maybe you’d still be here, and we’d still be able to visit our secret swimming hole.
Love, Chloe
FRIDAY MORNING I sifted through my textbooks, watching Lola Davenport over the door of my locker. Francis towered over her, one hand against the wall as the other played with a strand of her hair. Her lips were glossed with fuchsia today, and she was wearing her most intimidating smirk as she murmured something for only him to hear.
And then Francis Rutherford turned to look at me, his glance piercing. I looked away quickly, shutting my locker and turning to see William already approaching.
“Classes are canceled. We have another school meeting today,” he said, giving a long sigh and stepping in to hug me. My cheeks flamed, but this time I was able to manage my composure as my hands flattened on his back. Behind him, I saw Lola and Francis saunter away.
“Really?” I asked.
He nodded. The school had warned us that teachers were checking in on students’ social media, and now any time they suspected we were underage drinking or bullying one another they gave us another lecture on safety. I wished they could just talk to the people who were guilty instead of forcing us all to listen.
“Wanna skip it?” William offered. “I need to talk to you about something.”
This piqued my interest. Sit and listen to the “Do Better” spiel or possibly obtain more information? The idea of sitting through another futile round of teachers addressing binge drinking and playing reckless games to impress each other made me nauseated.
“Sure.”
William led me out of the school building, but instead of turning to the parking lot we wandered down the pathway and across the lawns, the sun brightening the well-tended garden. We headed down a grassy slope, where we were just out of view of the rest of campus, and William tossed his jacket down, offering it for me to sit on.
“Thanks,” I said, making myself comfortable. The last thing I wanted was grass stains on my skirt.
“Lola is suspicious,” he said, skipping any lead-up and getting straight to the point.
I had to do a double take. “What?”
“She was asking about you.”
That wasn’t good. Not at all. “Should I be worried?”
“About her digging or my loyalty?”
“Both.”
“You should probably be more worried about her digging.”
I let out a tangled breath. Shit. “Tell me everything.”
“She just knows me too well,” he said. “She knows it’s weird for me to just come out and date someone, especially someone like you. Especially when there’s all the . . . stuff between her and me.”
“Right,” I said, running my fingers through the grass in frustration. “So, she knows we’re not real.”
“Not that we’re not real. Just that there’s more to our relationship than we’re letting on. We just have to act extra cozy. I tried to convince her that you just swept me off my feet. And, well, I think she’s going to make your life hard.”
“Because she thinks you moved on and is jealous?” I shook my head, the whole situation not making much sense. “I need to know more. To protect myself.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Well, how long were you two a thing? Does Lola have many, you know, extra boyfriends?”
He visibly cringed. “Maybe three months, tops? And no. As far as I know, I’m the only one. Other than Francis, obviously.” He paused. “Man, this sounds so messed up.”
“That’s because it is,” I couldn’t help but say.
“Not helpful.”
I shrugged. “So . . . if it wasn’t an intentional thing, what happened?”
I felt a wave of annoyance as I took in the small smile across his full lips. He had to fall for her, of all people. Even if he was the only one to really help Monica last year, to try to guide her out of parties and make sure she got home okay, he was still screwing with the enemy. Literally.
But if I wanted to stay on his good side, and to get the most information possible, I needed to keep my cool. I needed to act as if I was on his side.
“Well, it wasn’t something either of us saw coming.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that without betraying my anger. I watched a butterfly dance around a hedge, wondering if