locker before homeroom. Thanks for the ride,” she told him bluntly.
“Okay. I’ll see you later then,” he said, accepting his dismissal as gracefully as he could. When he was no more than three steps away, Claire grabbed Helen’s arm and dragged her toward her locker.
“What the holy hand grenade was that?” Claire practically shouted. Helen shushed her as she wrestled with her locker combination.
“We had a long talk,” Helen said quickly. “We don’t hate each other anymore.”
“A talk? Yeah, right. I’m sure tongues were involved but for some reason I don’t think much language was used.” Claire looked angry, but Helen was suddenly angrier.
“Stop it, Claire! I mean it! I had a really rough weekend. I’m sorry I didn’t think to call you last night but my father was pissed at me for leaving him stranded at the airport.”
“Well, tell me about it now then!” Claire replied defensively. “Not like you have to say anything. Everyone can see that you and Lucas are suddenly a couple.”
“I don’t know what we are, but it’s not something I can sum up with an easy label like ‘couple,’ okay?” Stressed, Helen shuffled through her books and realized that she hadn’t done any of her homework.
“Why can’t you just be honest with me? You slept with him,” Claire accused her. Her eyes were hurt. Helen knew she couldn’t shut her out entirely.
“Honestly? I did sleep with him. Twice. But not the way you think,” she said frankly. She turned Claire around and steered them both to Hergie’s. “We’ve never even kissed.”
“Rubbish!” Claire declared, stopping dead in the middle of the hall.
“Ask him yourself. You’ve got classes with him all day,” Helen responded, perfectly serious. The bell rang and they both had to run the last few steps to make it through the door before Hergie closed it.
Helen had a terrible morning. Several teachers considered giving her detention for not doing her homework and every single girl in school was furious with her for getting a ride with Lucas. Helen’s relationships with the girls in her class had always been strained. For years she’d gone out of her way to be nice to them, but she’d finally given up when she noticed that if she kept her head down and her mouth shut she could slide under the radar.
That was all over now that she had been seen coming to school with Lucas. She had crossed some sort of imaginary line, broken the truce that she had entered into by refusing to compete, and they’d declared war on her. All day long, Helen found that if she looked anywhere but at the board or her desk she was shot nasty looks. To top everything else off, Gretchen was whispering vicious rumors about Helen to anyone who would listen, and Claire was still upset.
Helen couldn’t help but smile with relief when she saw Lucas at his locker before lunch. He seemed to be the only person in the entire school who would smile back at her.
“So you like me again, huh?” he said as she made her way toward him.
“Not you too,” Helen moaned. “Is there a sign on my back that says ‘kick me’?”
“It’s just gossip, Helen. It can’t hurt us,” he said, wisely deciding not to tease her anymore.
“Maybe it can’t hurt you,” Helen muttered. She put a hand on her belly. Lucas saw her do it and was just about to ask what was wrong when Hector and Jason joined them.
“Your mom’s here,” Jason told Lucas, who nodded as though he was expecting her.
“What’s wrong?” Helen asked.
“Nothing. We’re meeting with the principal because my mom is going to try and talk our way back on to the football team,” Lucas explained.
“She’s playing the ‘have pity on a poor little woman raising so many gigantic boys’ card and then she’ll beg them to let us beat up kids from other schools instead of each other. All to the benefit of Nantucket High, of course,” Jason said with a grin. “It never fails. She’s like the Einstein of guilt.”
“But should you three be allowed to play football?” Helen said with a disapproving frown. “I mean, you all have an unfair advantage.”
“Keep talking, track star,” Hector replied with a little heat.
“Helen runs because she needs a scholarship for college,” Lucas said, shooting Hector a warning glance. “We play sports because it’s expected of us. It’s annoying, actually, because we have to pretend to be unbearably weak and slow.”