Love Me, Love Me Not Page 10

  He grabs my book from me and flips to an earlier problem. He points to it and then lowers the book back on my lap. Along the way, his arm ends up between us, resting against my hip. It’s not like he’s trying to cop a feel. It’s just the innocent placement of his arm between us, and the back of his hand happens to touch my hip.

  I try to focus back on the problem, but it’s impossible. My eyes are drawn to his hand.

  My brain knows it means nothing. So why does my stomach suddenly feel like it’s full of butterflies trying to bust their way out?

  I glance back to my book, figuring he’ll move his arm once he realizes, but he doesn’t. It just sits there, burning a hole through my jeans.

  I swallow, take a deep breath, and try to focus on the problem before me. “So, I need to draw in a line to make two triangles?” I ask, finally remembering what we did for the earlier problem.

  “Yep.”

  I do it, but then stare at the problem again. His closeness is making it even harder than normal to concentrate.

  After a moment, he says, “This is exactly like the other problem.”

  “Right,” I say, glancing down at his arm again, which still hasn’t moved.

  What is wrong with me? I cannot react to him like this. Besides, as nice as he is to me, he would never be interested in me. We’re totally different people. Incongruent figures, really.

  Oh my God.

  I’m using geometry humor. What has happened to me? I giggle without even thinking.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks.

  Crap. Was that out loud?

  “Geometry’s funny,” I say, tapping my pencil on the book, not really wanting to get into the details with him.

  “No, it’s not.”

  I smile. “I made a weird geometry observation. That’s all.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Not really.”

  “Come on. I love a good math joke.”

  “It’s not really a joke,” I say with a shrug. “I was just thinking about congruency and how … incongruent the two of us are.”

  He frowns. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “You’re a straight-A student, an athlete, have the best parents ever, will be invited to college with open arms, and I’m … none of those.”

  “Okay, so maybe we’re incongruent, but I wouldn’t say we’re incompatible. Sometimes congruency is overrated. Congruency is boring. Incongruency makes things interesting.”

  “Like the whole opposites attract thing?” I say with a smile, then catch myself. “That’s not what I meant,” I continue as my face heats up. “I’m—”

  “Brad! Hailey!” Adam yells, leaping into the room. “Come downstairs—we’re all here.”

  Thank God. I jump up and away from Brad.

  “Hey, Adam, you’re early,” Brad says, standing.

  “Yeah, my mom was pissing me off. I had to get out of there.”

  “Uh-oh. What’s going on?”

  “College crap.”

  “Sorry, man,” he says, patting Adam’s shoulder.

  “Are the girls downstairs?” I ask.

  “Yeah, Abbie’s starting the popcorn,” Adam replies.

  “I’ll help her,” I say before racing through the door and away from my embarrassing words to Brad.

  When I join the girls, Abbie and Brittany are talking while waiting for the microwave to ding. Michelle is sitting on the sofa, playing on her phone.

  “Hey,” I say to everyone as I walk to the fridge. “Anyone want something to drink?”

  “Coke,” Brittany says.

  “Sprite,” says Abbie.

  Michelle ignores me.

  I pull out their drinks and grab a Sprite for myself.

  “You have to come to our gig next Saturday,” Brittany says, looking at me.

  “Where is it?”

  “The Arboretum. They’re having some sort of festival. We’re on from one to two.”

  “Want to go together?” Abbie asks.

  “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

  “Hey, Brad,” Michelle says, drawing my attention back to her. She’s forgotten about her phone and is headed toward the stairs as the guys come down.

  “Hey, Michelle. Abbie. Brittany,” he says, stepping into the room.

  Abbie and Brittany wave while Michelle sidles up next to him. “We got a romantic comedy today. We figured it was time for a girly movie, since we always watch explosions and aliens and all that boy stuff.”

  “Fine by me,” he says, stepping around her to grab a Gatorade from the fridge.

  Beeping from the microwave pulls me back to the kitchen area. Abbie pulls out the steaming bag and pours it into a huge bowl already halfway filled with popcorn, then we all take our seats.

  I sit on the end like usual with Brittany right next to me. Abbie is between her and Adam. Brad and Michelle continue standing, rather than taking their normal spot at the end.

  “Hey, Brittany,” Adam says, “want to share some Junior Mints?”

  “I’ll get them for you,” Brad offers, heading back to the kitchenette. He returns with not only those but also Sno-Caps, my favorite.

  After Brad tosses the Junior Mints to Adam, Brittany gets up and sits next to him. “Are you trying to get lucky tonight?” she asks with a sideways glance.

  “Do Junior Mints hold that much power over you?” Adam asks, handing her the box.

  She smiles and accepts it. “In your dreams, buddy.”

  While I’m watching the two of them, Brad plops himself down right next to me, his leg touching mine. His freaking leg pushed up against me from hip to ankle. If I thought his arm was bad during tutoring, this is a thousand time worse. The pressure of his hard muscles, muscles I shouldn’t even be thinking about, is like a gigantic fluorescent billboard. It commands all my attention, and the more I try to ignore it, the more noticeable it becomes.

  “Sno-Cap?” he asks, holding the opened box between us.

  I take it and pour a couple pieces of candy into my hand. He’s not fazed at all. Of course not. He’s not the least bit attracted to me, so he probably doesn’t even notice the contact.

  After handing the box back to him, I curl my legs under my body and scoot to the very edge of the sofa, practically on top of the armrest. It’s uncomfortable, but at least it puts a few inches between us.

  A loud huff draws my attention back to Michelle, who is still standing in the middle of the room. She shoots me an evil glare, then lowers herself next to Abbie, who holds out the bowl of popcorn. Stuffing kernel after kernel into her mouth, she stares at the television.

  Great. She’ll probably take her evilness to a whole new level now.

  While chewing on a Sno-Cap, I try to focus on the drama of the movie and not the drama going on right around me. I have no idea what’s up with Michelle and Brad, but I’d prefer to stay out of it. Maybe I should have Abbie remind Michelle how Brad and I are foster siblings and nothing more. Maybe it’s all a simple misunderstanding that’s leading to her nasty attitude.

  Although a misunderstanding would be nice, I kind of doubt that’s the problem. Michelle hasn’t liked me from the minute we met, and at this point, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change that.

  As I pop another piece of candy in my mouth, I think about my options for dealing with her. I could dish it right back at her, but there’s no way I could ever be as mean as her. I think you’re either born with the mean gene or not. She was; I wasn’t.

  Really, my only other choice is to ignore her. From now on, I need to completely ignore everything she says and does.

  And that’s exactly what I do for the rest of the movie. I ignore both Michelle’s attitude and Brad’s closeness, Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done, especially ignoring Brad.

  CHAPTER 15

  Walking into the gym, I’m blown away by all the decorations. I’ve never gone to a school dance before, let alone homecoming. Brittany and I stroll under an arch of yellow and white b
alloons to find the party in full swing.

  A deep bass pounds through my chest, and flashing lights reflect off the shiny green and gold streamers. From a distance, my dancing classmates seem to move as one, like some weird creature with hundreds of arms spilling across the floor.

  “Let’s dance,” Brittany squeals, dragging me to the center of the creature.

  I follow her lead, bouncing to an upbeat hip-hop song as we wave our arms overhead. Everyone around me is shouting the words. When it gets to the chorus, I join them, singing the part I know.

  The energy in the room is overwhelming. There’s no way I can avoid getting drawn into it. Even Michelle must agree because when she and Abbie join us during the next song, she smiles at me. It’s a first, and I wonder what’s going on.

  Brad and Adam are right behind them. I watch Brad out of the corner of my eye as he dances. He’s a pretty serious guy, so I’m surprised by how relaxed he looks moving to the beat. I wouldn’t say he’s a great dancer, but he’s cute. He’s not embarrassed to try out some interesting moves, and I find myself grinning at the way he rocks his hips.

  He catches my eye and smiles back before weaving through the crowd to appear right in front of me.

  “Having fun?” he yells, still bouncing to the music, but in a more restrained way.

  I nod. I’m glad I let them all persuade me to come. I didn’t want to at first. I was worried I wouldn’t fit in, and there was the issue of the dress and dinner beforehand. I’ve been with the Campbells for five weeks, so I have a little money saved up, but I didn’t want to waste it on something frivolous like a dance. Luckily, Abbie had an old dress I could borrow, and Gil gave me some money for dinner. I still hate when they pay for stuff for me, but he reminded me it was food and I would never be expected to pay for my own food.

  Now I realize how ridiculous I was being. This is fun. And no one cares how anyone dances. That’s clear by Brad’s newest move. His arms are out to the side, practically hitting the poor girl standing there, as his body jerks one way and then the next.

  Despite that, he’s still hot as can be. He’s wearing khaki pants, a pin-striped button-down, a blue blazer, a green plaid tie, and loafers. It’s very preppy. I never thought I liked that style because I’m usually attracted to the bad-boy look, but it definitely works on him. Although, I think any look would work on him. It’s not the clothes. It’s what’s beneath the clothes.

  Just then, the song ends and a slow one starts. I glance around me as people start pairing up, and try to find a quick exit off the dance floor. I find an opening and begin to head that way, when a hand lands on the small of my back.

  Turning around, I find Brad, all smiles. “Want to dance?” he asks.

  Because that wouldn’t be weird at all.

  We’ve become close friends, but is it normal for close friends to slow dance together? To me, it seems like that might be crossing some invisible line.

  He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

  “Seriously?” I say.

  His face shifts from expectation to amusement in a fraction of a second. “What?” he asks. “Am I so disgusting you can’t bear the thought of dancing with me?”

  It would be nice if he were gross. It definitely would make things easier. “Yes, that’s it,” I reply with a grin. “I don’t want to get your disgusting cooties on me.”

  He laughs and moves his hands to my waist. “Going old-school, huh? I haven’t heard the word ‘cooties’ in at least ten years.”

  “I haven’t said the word in at least ten years,” I reply with a smile, lightly laying my arms on his shoulders and clasping my fingers behind his neck. This is the closest we’ve ever been and it feels way too intimate, just like I thought it would. “Is this really a good idea?” I ask.

  He reaches for my right hand and lays it on top of his. With a finger from his other hand, he traces shapes on my palm while saying, “Circle, circle, dot, dot—now you’ve got a cootie shot.” Then he replaces my arm where it was but moves our bodies even closer. “Feel better?” he asks. “You’re now fully vaccinated against my disgusting cooties.”

  I laugh at his seriousness and then bite my lip. Does he not notice how awkward this is?

  Apparently not, because he starts swaying our bodies to the music. “You look nice tonight,” he says.

  “Thanks.” I glance down to my black-and-silver dress and stay focused on the skirt swaying from side to side because it’s easier than watching his face so close to mine.

  He’s quiet for a few minutes, and I wonder what he’s thinking. All that’s running through my mind is how my chest brushes against his every time we lean to the left. Under normal circumstances, I’d enjoy the fluttering in my stomach, but right now, I want to kick myself for having it with him.

  “So, how’s it feel to be a Pinecrest girl?” he asks, obviously not sharing my messed-up thoughts.

  “Fine,” I reply, taking a half step back.

  “That’s it?”

  “What did you expect?”

  He peers down at me with a grin. “I don’t know. Maybe more than a one-word answer?”

  “It’s fine.”

  He laughs and shakes his head. “I love when I can draw out smart-ass Hailey. It’s rare, but always a special treat.”

  Just then, a pop song starts. My fingers snap apart like they’re made of springs, and I step away from him, grateful our dance is over.

  As soon as I turn to the side, I realize I’m not the only one. Michelle is standing there, hands on hips and evil in her eyes. I guess our momentary truce is already over.

  “I was supposed to get the first dance,” she says, transforming the glare to a pout as she focuses on Brad.

  “My bad.”

  “Next one?” she asks.

  “Sure, if I’m around.”

  His answer brightens her mood. She twirls, flipping her hair in my direction, and goes back to Abbie.

  “She hates me,” I say to him, watching her bubble over with excitement as she whispers something in Abbie’s ear.

  “Possibly.”

  I whip my head toward him and stare in disbelief. “Really?” I ask with a laugh. “You’re supposed to say something like, ‘No, she doesn’t. She’s just moody. She treats everyone like dirt.’”

  “Right,” he says, nodding his head. “Let me try again. She’s moody. She treats everyone she hates like dirt.”

  I laugh again and gently smack his arm. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  “Is that what you wanted?”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “You should’ve said so. Michelle is immature and moody. As soon as she finds a new villain in her life, you’ll be spared.”

  “When will that happen?”

  “As soon as somebody wrongs her.”

  “Like who?”

  “Could be anyone. Want me to do it?” he asks, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

  “What would you do?”

  “Ditch my dance with her tonight.”

  “That’s mean. You told her you would.”

  “I told her I would if I was around. If you want, I’m more than willing to take the bullet for you.”

  “For me or for yourself?”

  “There are lots of benefits to this plan,” he says with a lopsided grin before leading me back to Brittany and Adam, who are dancing together. Actually—I do a double take—more like grinding together. This is a surprising new development.

  Brad and I form a circle with a couple of other people near us, and luckily, we all leave plenty of space between our bodies. There’s no way I could dance like Brittany. I’m pretty sure I would die of embarrassment.

  After a couple more songs, my legs grow sore, and I’ve got sweat beading up on my forehead. I need a break. “Come with me to get a drink?” I ask Brittany.

  “Sure!”

  We wave to the guys and head over to the refreshment table, w
here I pour two cups of punch and hand one to her.

  “What’s up with you and Adam?” I ask.

  “I could ask you the same about Brad.”

  “Uh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “We had one slow dance together as friends. You and Adam are all over each other.”

  She laughs at me. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ll see what happens,” she says with a shrug before crushing her cup in her hand and tossing it into the trash can. “Ready for another—”

  I don’t hear the rest of her sentence because Brad barrels into me, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from her. “Come on, come on, come on—I’ve got to disappear.”

  “Wait! What?” I yell, trying to dig in my heels, but it’s no use.

  “Slow song. Michelle,” he says, still dragging me. It’s then I notice the change in music. It is much slower. I can’t believe he’s really going to hide from her. He can’t do this all night.

  I wave to Brittany, who’s watching us and shaking her finger at me like she’s warning me to be good.

  I finally stop fighting him and let him lead me through the crowd to a back door. We slip outside, leaving the chaotic sounds and lights behind us, although my ears still ring from the music.

  “We’re going to hide in a back alley?”

  “Yep.”

  “From some silly girl?”

  “Yep.”

  “Just so you don’t have to dance with her?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ve never been more impressed by your bravery,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

  “I can’t slay dragons every day. Sometimes, it’s easier to run from them. Come on, let’s go this way,” he says, starting to walk into the dark night.

  We’re silent as he leads me around some dumpsters, between two tennis courts, and to the football field. He flips a lever on the gate, and it swings open.

  We climb to the top of the stands and sit on the edge of a bench. It’s a different view than I’m used to with his games, because Gil and Gigi like to sit in the front. Although I wonder why we’re here, it is nice. It’s peaceful with a bird’s-eye view of the forest beyond the field and a small lake to the left, shimmering in the moonlight.