being buff makes all his features click together in a way mine don’t. I try not to be hard on myself, but he was right about what he said last night. He is the good-looking one.
He pumps out some sunscreen from the tube I have beside me, and slaps it down onto his chest.
“Where’d you go?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“Last night, you disappeared for a while. Where’d you go?”
I don’t have a lie planned. I truly thought I’d gotten away with it. I should’ve expected Luke to notice, though.
“Oh, nowhere exciting. I was craving fries, so I went to the diner down the road.”
“By yourself?”
I shrug.
“You’re a weird dude, anyone ever tell you that?”
“You did, just now.”
He laughs. “Where was my invite? I’m bulking, you know I need all the calories I can get.”
He slaps his hard stomach. I have no idea how the whole muscle thing works, that he can eat burgers and stuff and still look like him. It seems to go against everything I’ve been taught at school about being healthy.
“You were busy.”
“Doing what?”
I chew my nail. “You were with Cass, remember?”
“Oh yeah. I almost forgot. So many girls, so little time, you know?”
Obviously, I don’t.
“Did you two hook up?” I ask as I put my hands behind my head, so I’m mirroring him. In front of me is my pool, then a small stretch of perfectly kept lawn. Dad makes us cut it on alternating Saturdays. If I forget, Luke reminds me. It looks really short, so I guess he’s already done it this morning.
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” he says.
I roll my eyes.
“How ’bout you?” he asks.
“Are you asking if I hooked up with Cass?”
“No. Did you meet any girls?”
“What do you think? Nobody even noticed I was there.”
“God, stop being so pathetic. I’m telling you, just find a girl who gives you a happy feeling down there, then give ’em the old Miller smolder. They’ll become obsessed with you, for the night, anyway. Trust me.”
My brother, folks. I love him. But he’s such a douchebag.
“Noted,” I say.
I don’t know why I said that, because I already know it’s not really possible for a girl to give me any sort of feeling down there. Trust me, I’ve tried. I watched all sorts of videos on the internet, hoping they’d inspire some sort of reaction in me. Like I’d see one girl, the right girl, and everything would click into place. But my attention is always, always, drawn to the guys.
I’m just built that way.
I’m done with this conversation, so I turn the volume of my music up, roll over, and face the opposite direction.
* * *
It’s Monday, and I’m at school, wishing I had the powers of the Invisible Woman from the Fantastic Four.
Naturally.
The main hallway is bustling, filled with people grabbing stuff from their lockers or heading to class. Guys high-five. Girls whisper things to one another. A teacher yells at a boy who is running somewhere, threatening him with detention if he doesn’t slow down.
I’m thinking about Jason again.
I’m still confused.
I’m starting to think he’s, like, a ghost or something. Or a figment of my imagination, created out of extreme loneliness. I created a cute gamer guy because he’s, like, my dream friend.
Who has no social media?
I know it’s hard to find someone if you don’t know their last name. But still, how can he not be friends with anyone I know?
It’s probably for the best, though. I’m officially thinking about him too much. Having access to his social media would just push things over the edge. It’s sure to be really cute, filled with selfies of him gaming and stuff. And maybe hot. He probably posts thirst traps, and I very much want to see those.
I pull my phone from my pocket, put my earbuds in, and hit play on my current playlist. The top song is “Straight to My Head” by You Me at Six, which is this song I’ve become weirdly obsessed with lately. It’s pretty much the only song I listen to. I turn the volume up way too high to be safe, but whatever. It lifts my mood almost instantly.
God, I love this song.
Up ahead, making their way down the hall toward me, is a group of football jocks. Even though it’s hot out, the whole group is wearing matching black-and-white varsity jackets, most unzipped with the sleeves pushed up. Damn, there are so many nice arms in that group. Any one of them could push me