The Thrashers(42)

Her gaze left the buttons pulling tight across his sternum. She felt the air drift from her lungs and the blood drain from her face.

His lips broke into a smile at her expression. Conniving. His tongue dragged along his teeth, and she looked back to the parking lot, watching headlights illuminate a row of cars.

“Tell the truth, Dillon. Do you think Zack’s going to just wake up one morning and realize he loves you back, or—”

“Shut up.” Her face was hot, and she felt embarrassed tears spring into her eyes. “Just—God—”

“Because you better move quick. He’s been looking forward to dancing with this Kiera girl all week.”

She stood up, needing space. She walked down the bleacher row to the end of it.

“I’m just saying,” he called after her, “don’t be sleeping on Spencer.”

She ignored him. He’d made comments before. She knew she wasn’t subtle, but she wasn’t exactly broadcasting her dream journal or anything obvious like that. But if he was going to tell Zack she had feelings for him, he’d be ruining a good thing.

She felt the bleachers creak, the clomp of shoes on the slats. A body slumped down next to her. She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing she had a sweater—feeling too vulnerable with her shoulders bared.

“I think you’ll tell him before graduation,” he said, puffing out smoke. She waved her hand through it. “I think you’ll be standing in your cap and gown, waiting to cross the stage, and you’ll grab his arm and say ‘Zack. I have feelings for you. I’m sorry I never told you. I was a coward.’” His voice was melodramatic and pitched just right to imitate her.

“Why would I tell him?” she snapped. “Why would I risk changing everything when it wouldn’t make a difference?”

“No difference? You don’t have hope in your heart—?”

“I know he doesn’t feel the same way, okay? I don’t know what you’re trying to do here—maybe get me to make an ass of myself, or make Zack so uncomfortable that he doesn’t want to be around me—but if you want to humiliate me, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

She stared across the field, eyes focused on the opposite bleachers like there was something interesting to see there. She could feel him watching her. As he brought the burnt-down joint to his mouth again, she snapped her hand out and grabbed it, putting it between her lips and taking a small puff. Maybe it was peer pressure. Maybe it was another night of her friends getting high and drunk and her just watching. She’d smoked before. She didn’t really like it, but some times it was nice to not look like the prude by just barely inhaling and smiling more over the next few hours.

She handed it back to him, and when he didn’t take it, she met his eyes. He was smirking at her. Finally he took it and stubbed it out. As he leaned, she watched his eyes catch on her thigh, where the scar from the drive-in was on full display. She wanted to tug the skirt down, but she refrained. His fingers twitched, like he was going to run his fingertips across it, but that wasn’t like him.

His eyes glided up from the scar, casting over the tulle and the bodice.

“It’s a nice dress,” he said, and she searched for that mocking tone again, about to tell her that Zack would like it or some other taunt.

“Shut the fuck up.” She stood, anxious for more space from him, and didn’t analyze why her hand immediately went to smooth down the dress, making sure it still looked “nice” as she walked away, down the bleachers in her too-tall wedges to sit two rows below him.

“Hey!” Paige was jogging out from their usual spot. “We the only ones ditching tonight?”

“Looks like.” Julian slipped a bottle of vodka from the benches. He must have come straight here from the car, not even stopping to socialize at the dance. “Raspberry for the homecoming queen,” he said, passing the bottle down to Paige.

Paige took a healthy sip of the flavored vodka just as Zack and Lucy joined. Julian lit another joint, puffed once, and stretched forward to hand it to Jodi. When she took it, Lucy raised a brow.

“Oo-hoo-hoo. We’re gonna party tonight.” She danced up the bleacher steps to join Jodi in the third row, pressing her lips forward until Jodi got the message. She inhaled—more than she wanted to—and passed her exhale into Lucy’s open mouth. She sucked it in, and exhaled out, “Thatta girl.”

Jodi laughed. Zack and Paige were passing the vodka back and forth, talking quietly. It made Jodi’s chest tight to see them whispering, but her conversation with Julian was fresh in her mind, so she looked away. Lucy set her clutch down on the bench beside her and spun to Julian.

“When are you back in the water?” She took the joint from Jodi, puffed, and passed it back up to Julian.

“I’m already swimming at home.”

Jodi looked over her shoulder. “Wasn’t your recovery six to ten weeks?”

He lifted a brow and shrugged. “Yeah. So what?”

Jodi rolled her eyes and turned back around as Zack climbed up the bleachers toward them. Paige was scrolling her phone for a playlist.

Zack plopped next to her and fluffed up her skirt. “This is a nice dress. You look great.”

She beamed at him, feeling her cheeks flush. “Thanks. Rosa picked it out.”