air under the enormous fleece-lined sweater. My eyes finally find Hayden’s smile, and I instantly feel guilty for wanting to rip this thing off of me. The messy bun that was already falling apart is also unraveling.
“I like seeing you in my number,” Hayden says. I catch Tory’s snicker just over his brother’s shoulder, and when our eyes meet he covers his laugh with a fist to his mouth and a lame-ass cough.
“It’s a little big on me,” I say, following through and poking my arms into the sleeves after dropping my bag to my feet. Hayden reaches toward the top of my head and I strain to stare straight upward as he tugs free the band I was using to hold my hair in place.
“It’s cute that it’s big,” he says, handing me my hair tie. I put it around my wrist, once I find my wrist.
“Okay, well, I’ll get it back to you after first hour, I guess.”
“Keep it. Wear it to the game,” he interjects before I can conjure an excuse.
“Oh, uh, okay,” I stammer.
June has snapped out of her love fest by Lucas’s truck and steps up on the curb to stand behind me and comb out my wild hair with her fingers.
“Look who’s got spirit,” she says, sarcasm tainting every word. It was only a few months ago that I gave her shit for just sitting at the football games. I never forced a giant sweatshirt on her with a wild bloodbath pictorial painted on the chest, though.
“Haha, yeah, look at me. Woo!” I raise both of my hands and waggle them with pretend pompoms before bending down to pick up my bag and work the straps up over the massive thickness of the material I’m wearing. I can actually feel my hair growing out in all directions. I’m going to look like a palm tree by lunch hour.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you at lunch, and after the game.” Hayden flattens both of my cheeks with his palms, puckering my lips out as he bends down and kisses me. His kisses are sweet, and he sprinkles them often. Being with him feels a lot like dating a boy from the 1950’s. He made a big deal about holding hands, and we’ve never really full-on made out. We kiss, but it’s got this weird unwritten time limit on how long it goes on.
Hayden holds out a fist and pounds it against his brother’s and Lucas’s, and everyone heads their separate ways, leaving me and June alone to walk through the main hallway together. She’s in independent study just down the hallway from my bio class. Lately, I feel as if this two-minute walk through throngs of students is the only time she and I have to catch up.
“So, are you going to tell me how all of this”—she pauses to tug at the sleeve of Hayden’s hoodie—“happened?”
“He’s nice,” I say, which makes me immediately cringe because God, that sounds lame. Our story is a lot more complicated than nice, but I’m not totally sure I have a full handle on it so nice is the best I’ve got.
“Yeah, he always has been. Since when has that been your thing? I thought you were hooking up with that new—”
“Cannon?” I answer for her. “Cannon is hot. And I tried to get on his radar, but that boy has major shit going on, and he’s so focused on baseball and the new coach at school. It was literally all he ever talked about.”
“Yeah, okay, but then how did you get to Hayden?” June asks.
I sigh and roll up one of the sleeves at my wrist.
“We have a lot in common, and I’m sure you’ve had to help Lucas navigate a lot of this. Us fucked-up family kids have to guide each other, ya know?” I give her a sideways smile and she nods.
“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been sort of preoccupied with Lucas lately and we haven’t talked much, but I thought surely Miss Love Sucks would have filled me in on settling down with a guy like Hayden D’Angelo,” June says.
“That’s my nickname? Miss Love Sucks?” I say it in a joking way, but there’s a tender pang at my side. Am I truly that jaded?
“Well, it is now. I just made it up, but you know what I mean. You’ve never had a boyfriend, per se. You have had guys you’re talking to, and then guys you are seriously talking to. You just jumped right into