was a hole around the big toe of one of his dirt-stained socks.
“You should give it a try,” I encouraged. “It’s fun.”
“You play?” He slid his gaze back to where I was still standing.
It was heavy, that stare, and I wasn’t sure if he knew, or if maybe it was just me. Fighting the urge to train my eyes elsewhere, I shook my head and tucked some of my blond hair behind my ear. “No. I kept trying for a while, but I can’t seem to get the hang of it. Hendrix can play any guitar.” When he said nothing but continued to look at me with his lip between his teeth, I rambled on, “Some people have a knack for it, I guess. I’m just not one of them.”
His teeth released his lip. “You’ve got a clover stuck to your butt.”
Thankfully, he disappeared before he could see my cheeks catch fire.
I brushed the clover from my cutoffs and stared at its crumpled form on the kitchen tiles. How did he notice it when my back was turned… My entire face burned as I remembered he’d followed me inside.
I was about to drag myself to my room when the music stopped, and muffled voices reached me.
Time passed, maybe five minutes or maybe ten, as I listened to Everett fumble over chords in the living room. Dragging my eyes from the clover, I forced my feet to move to the dining table.
Laughter, then Everett’s curses followed by more laughter, bounced off the walls. They kept me company while I started a game of cards on Dad’s computer, and as the rays dripping over the linoleum floor changed from luminous gold to a burnt orange, a familiar tune drifted down the hall. It was clumsy in the hands of a beginner, but I recognized it all the same.
Reshuffling my deck, I bit back a smile.
Sometime later, Everett emerged with something I hadn’t seen since meeting him on our drive. Something so beautiful, it would continue to haunt me years later no matter what I did to erase it.
A smile.
“I guess I’ve got a knack for it, Clover.” His bottom teeth were a little crooked, hugging each other tightly. His top teeth were perfect, save for a tiny chip on the right front tooth. Barely perceptible, unless you stared a beat too long.
I always stared a beat too long.
Bouncing as the bus flew over a speed hump, I grabbed the seat in front of me. My gaze, unwilling to roam too far from him, no matter how much I tried, was stuck on Everett.
He was a grade above me, so I didn’t see much of him at school. But what I did see was almost the same as what I was staring at then. A stone-still boy who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. As though his surroundings bored him to the point of semi-consciousness.
Clad in ripped jeans and scuffed boots, he sat behind the driver. From my vantage point in the middle of the bus next to Adela, who was furiously scribbling away in that fluffy pink journal of hers, I glanced at the back of the bus.
Penny and her crew sat in the back with a couple of guys from the football team, laughing and tossing gum wrappers at one another. Though they might’ve looked entertained, Penny and her friends’ eyes kept darting to the front of the bus.
To Everett.
I turned back, sighing as I pressed the side of my forehead to the cool glass.
“What’s up?” Adela asked, still writing.
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” she dragged out. “Sure.”
“Your stop.”
The bus pulled over, and a tiny shriek left her as she scrambled to grab her things, shoving the pen between her teeth as she slung her bag over her shoulder and waved.
I laughed, then waved from the window as she dropped her bag to the sidewalk. The other kids walked around her while she took her time putting her journal and pen away.
The doors shut, the bus jerked forward, and I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting back to the boy at the front.
Only this time, he was staring at me.
I startled, and my lips parted, air falling through them until I forced them to curl into a smile.
His lips shifted, just barely, then he resumed his staring match with the front windshield.
Hendrix had been hanging out with Everett outside of school more, mainly at the skate park. Sometimes, I’d catch them riding home before dinner, and sometimes, I’d hear them