“Here,” he said, taking her arm. At his touch, she felt a little jolt, like an electrical charge.
He should have moved, led her somewhere. That was why he was touching her arm, right? But he just stood there, staring down at her. His smile faded. She couldn’t breathe all of a sudden; the whole world drained away until only his face was left, only his amazing green eyes.
He started to say something, but Lexi’s heart was pounding so fast, she couldn’t hear his words, and then he was being pulled away from her, led away by some beautiful girl in a skirt that was smaller than a dinner napkin.
Lexi stayed a moment too long, staring at his back, still feeling out of breath. Then she remembered where she was and who she was: the new girl in the bedazzled pink sweatshirt. Tucking her chin into her chest, she bolted forward, made her way to a seat in the back row. She slid onto its slick surface just as the bell rang.
As the teacher droned on about the early days of Seattle, Lexi replayed that moment, over and over. She told herself it meant nothing, the way he’d touched her, but she couldn’t let it go. What had he been going to say to her?
When the class ended, she dared to look at him. He moved with the crowd of students, laughing at something the girl in the miniskirt said. At Lexi’s desk, he paused, looked down at her, although he didn’t smile or stop. He kept moving.
Of course he didn’t stop. She rose slowly and walked to the door. For the rest of the morning, she tried to hold her head high as she moved through the crowded halls, but by noon, she was lagging, and the worst was yet to come.
Lunch in a new school was hell. You never knew what was in and what was out, and the whole social order could be upset if you dared to sit where you weren’t supposed to.
At the door to the cafeteria, Lexi paused. Just the idea of walking in there, being scrutinized and judged, was more than she could bear today. Normally she was stronger than that, but Mr. Popular had unbalanced her somehow, made her want the impossible, and she knew firsthand how waylaid one could be by longing. It was a waste of time. She walked back outside, where the sun was shining. She dug through her backpack, found the lunch Eva had packed for her and a well-read copy of Jane Eyre. Some kids had stuffed animals or special childhood blankets. Lexi had Jane.
She walked idly through campus, looking for a place to sit down and read while she ate her lunch. Across the campus, she spied a pretty little tree growing up from a triangular patch of grass, but it wasn’t the tree that caught her attention. It was the girl sitting cross-legged on the grass beneath its green canopy, hunched over a book. Her blond hair was divided into a pair of loosely twined braids. Dressed in a delicate pink tulle skirt, a black tank top, and black high-tops, she definitely made a statement.
It was a statement Lexi understood: I’m not like you. I don’t need you.
Lexi had spent a few years dressed the same way herself, back when she hadn’t wanted to make friends, when she’d been afraid of being asked where she lived or what her momma was like.
She took a deep breath and walked toward the girl. When she drew near, Lexi paused. She wanted to say the right thing, but now that she was here, she didn’t know what that would be.
The girl looked up from her book. She was fragile looking, with acne-blistered skin and green eyes that were rimmed with too much purple eyeliner. Brightly colored rubber bands accented her braces.
“Hey,” Lexi said.
“He’s not here. And he’s not coming.”
“Who?”
The girl gave a disinterested shrug and went back to reading. “If you don’t know, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Can I sit with you?”
“Social suicide,” the girl said without looking up.
“What?”
The girl looked up again. “It’s social suicide to sit with me. Even the theater kids won’t hang with me. Yeah. It’s that bad.”
“You mean I won’t make the cheerleading squad? How tragic.”
The girl looked interested in Lexi for the first time. A smile quirked her mouth. “Most girls care about stuff like that.”
“Do they?” Lexi dropped her backpack onto the grass. “What are you reading?”
“Wuthering Heights.”
Lexi held out her own book. “Jane Eyre. Can I sit down?”
The girl scooted sideways to make room on the small patch of grass. “I haven’t read that one. Is it good?”
Lexi sat down beside her. “My favorite. When you’re done with yours, we could trade.”