Echoes Between Us - McGarry, Katie Page 0,7
against mine, and I’ll admit my heart skips several beats. I wish it wouldn’t, but it does.
He smells of sandalwood, and I hate how handsome he is—beautiful black skin, black curly hair that almost touches his shoulders and a smile that makes even the stone-cold people in the world feel included.
Maybe if Leo’s eyes were misplaced on his handsome face like a Picasso painting or he had an alien popping out of his forehead or slimy tentacles attached to his back, I could find a way to not like him a little too much. But there’s no alien, no tentacles, and I have feelings for Leo even though he has no idea I’ve fallen for him.
I have to stop thinking of Leo and feelings so I focus on the opposite of Leo and find Sawyer Sutherland leading the pack. Following him are a few guys and a few girls. The girls are huddled together and laugh hysterically when Sawyer turns his head toward them and surely says something witty.
That’s what Sawyer does—talks. Laughs. For some reason everyone loves him. Girls want to date him, guys want to be friends with him, teachers want to hate him but he charms them regardless, and coaches fall over themselves to convince him to be on their teams. That is what popularity looks like.
Sawyer cons them all. He makes them all feel as if they’re important—that is, everyone but me and my friends. He and I have been alphabetical buddies since he moved here, and he acts like I’m invisible. “Do you think he’ll talk to me now?”
“No,” Leo replies.
“That was blunt.” Yet probably true.
“Starched button-down shirt, cargo shorts, Nike high-tops. He’s got that same God-awful haircut everyone else has, and like the rest of the losers in town, he thinks he’s original. People like him don’t know how to see anything beyond themselves.”
I wouldn’t say God-awful haircut, but I’ll agree on the unoriginal. Sawyer’s brownish-blondish hair is cut into a low fade, longer on the top with the brush up that’s popular among most guys of our town. He’s on the taller end of the student population, has a swimmer’s build, and he’s as semi-good-boy-cool as they get. On the outside he checks all the boxes adults require to be a good boy. He says “yes, sir” and “no, ma’am” at the right times with the smile that hints at the mischief he’s been up to, but he’s the type to down a few beers with his “bros” on Saturday night and act like an ass.
But because I like to make life interesting … “What if it’s a façade and there’s really a rebel hiding underneath?”
Leo snorts, and even I have a hard time keeping a straight face. Sawyer Sutherland is as textbook cool-boy-with-money as one can get, and I gave up on anyone who’s textbook years ago.
“I like your outfit.” Leo gives me an appreciative once-over.
I waggle my eyebrows. “I do my best.”
Today, I’m in a knitted see-through pink top with a black lace tank underneath, a layered black skirt that ends midthigh and striped black-and-green knee-high socks. I’m a real-life, vertically impaired anime character.
Four-foot-nine isn’t an impressive height. Like, there are Charlie Brown Christmas trees taller than me. And God help me, I look cute and cuddly. Like a stupid kitten with big blue eyes. I can’t look mean and menacing even when I’ve tried, and trust me, I have. Anytime I’ve attempted to straighten my corkscrew blond curls, I’ve failed. They spring back into place.
Nazareth, one part of our small group of friends, pops out of the forest and climbs up the brick wall. Wondering if I’ve forgiven him yet, he offers me a questioning rise of his eyebrows. I’m already sad that Leo and our other friends graduated last year and won’t be attending school with us anymore, and knowing that I’ll be alone at school next year sucks.
Nazareth is supernova intelligent and will be taking college classes online at home to supplement his high school education. Tragically, this year, he and I will only share two classes. He won’t even be there for lunch. A part of me is seriously pissed at the traitor. Yeah, I get it, the decision is best for him, so I’ll hold on to a fraction of my anger and be passive-aggressive about it until he buys me tacos in repentance for his bad-for-me, yet good-for-him choices.
The past three years have been the best of my life. Now everything is changing, and not