How I Fly (18 page)

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Authors: Anne Eliot

Tags: #contemporary romance, #young adult

BOOK: How I Fly
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He’s actually crossing his arms and tapping his foot, as though he’s now impatiently waiting for the room to clear so he can give her some sort of lecture. When we all make it out into the hallway, I can tell that Laura and Patrick are also curious as to what’s going on with Ellen. “Will you save me a seat at lunch? I’m—I’ll go down the back stairs wait and check if Ellen’s okay.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Laura says. “If you weren’t going to go, I was going to do it.”

They head out the doors together, and I make a beeline for the elevator that will take me down to the lower level and the door where Ellen’s going to exit the classroom. As I head down the hallway, almost running, I figure I’ll take off and make some sort of dumb excuse if Harrison’s actually down there waiting for Ellen. Maybe that’s why he left like that—to simply wait for her.

When I get to the door, Ellen’s just coming out. Her face is cake-frosting white and she looks really stressed, but thankfully not surprised or upset to see me. Thankfully, Harrison’s nowhere in sight.

“What happened?” I breathe out, grabbing her heavy book bag without asking if I’m allowed to carry her things, all while holding open the door for her to crutch through.

“I—I—did
you
turn in your assignment—your second photo assignment—at the beginning of class? And did you turn in your Human Expressions shots before you left the class this afternoon?”

I nod. “We all did. Didn’t you?”

“No. That’s why he was so angry. I actually almost got a fat zero on both of the assignments, but when I showed him that my shots were ready to go, Professor Perry allowed me to upload them into his cloud storage just now off my laptop. I also got a huge warning that I’m not to mess up again.”

She shakes her head. “I thought we had until this evening. Thankfully my big project was ninety-nine percent done, and I was able to choose and load some good ones I took of Harrison really fast. I’d wanted to double-check a few shots, and then edit some more during our lab time today. I have no idea how I could have made such a mistake. I texted Harrison. Apparently he’d been on track. Turned his bigger project last night while we were hanging out in the lounge. The Human Expressions he’d uploaded while I was sitting next to him just before the bell, apparently, but I didn’t even notice. I was simply not paying attention, I guess.”

“Harrison never said anything about it? Never noticed you didn’t upload yours?”

“No…like…today we were goofing off so much. And yesterday, well…we always just work with laptops open and headphones on, side by side. We’re usually silent unless we need to help each other out. It never came up. We’ve all got the deadlines and the times from that paper, right?”

I frown. “Yeah. But the paper clearly stated the expectations. It also stated the hour both projects were due—today. One by 9 a.m., the other by the end of class today. That was typed all bold and in red all caps. You know how Professor Perry loves red and all caps. But maybe you and Harrison are so busy staring at each other and not hanging out with any of us that you are losing touch with reality.”

“Red? All caps?” She’s wrinkling her brow. “I don’t remember the paper having red on it. And I’m sorry if you think we’ve been spending too much time together. Honest, we’re just working. I’ve been really helping Harrison with his shots. He’s improving so much.”

“Oh, so
that’s
why the guy is monopolizing your time so much? Last I looked, Professor Perry was in charge of making Harrison Shaw improve his photography.”

“Hey. You know I like to help people.”

I sigh, frustrated as hell. “Yeah. Okay. Well…you should talk to Laura. She’s getting sad about it, actually, as is Patrick. We’re really hoping next week at Grand Bend you’ll spend more time with—with—us. Like old times,” I add, trying not to sound desperate or too much like I’m begging or wishing for what I’ve no right to beg and wish for anymore.

“Oh. Okay. Point taken.” She sighs. “I’ve been really distracted and—” She blushes. My heart twists in surprise pain, because I’m certain her blush probably means Harrison was probably also distracting her with his shady boyfriend make-out moves.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugggh.

While I work to tamp down the horrible images that last thought brings into my mind, she hastily rushes on: “I did text Harrison just before I went to sleep last night about how I’d meant to re-edit two of my shots before turning them in. He never told me that was a bad idea, but now…hmm.” She’s frowning. “Maybe I’d left off telling him that I’d meant to do it
today
. Maybe I just said I was going to edit two more and he assumed I’d meant to do that last night before falling asleep. He even made helpful suggestions as to what he’d improve.” She frowns more. “I guess I assumed he and I would work on them together this afternoon, and then turn them in at the same time—but again,
after lab time
.”

“Right,” I say, shaking my head. “But then Professor Perry posted on the
website
this morning that the lab would be closed this afternoon, so we could all pack and be ready on the bus in time. So what about that? Did you not check the site? Because if you had checked, you would have turned in everything before class.”

“That’s what the website said?” She closes her eyes as though she wishes this were some sort of bad dream. “I can’t believe I almost messed up my chances at the scholarship offer.”

“Ellen, you were the one who told me that I needed to make morning website checks my new religion, so what the heck…why didn’t you?”

She blinks, her face going even whiter. “But Harrison told me he’d checked the website and that I didn’t need to look because there was no news…and that no news was good news.”

I’m trying to keep my expression calm, because I don’t want to just blurt out that this whole thing sounds like a setup. A setup by Harrison Shaw to get Ellen in trouble, so I keep my voice completely calm when I ask, “What exactly did Harrison say? Can you remember word for word?”

Ellen sighs. “Harrison said only that he’d checked Perry’s morning post and that we were all given the thumbs-up to pack our things. You know. So we could head off to our fun week at the beach.”

“Actually, it was a long litany about how people were fooling around too much, not concentrating on photography, and how they should in fact have
zero fun
at the beach or in class until the work was completed.”

Ellen blinks. “Oh man. I
should
have checked it myself. I shouldn’t be relying on anyone to translate things for me, should I?”

I bite back the snide comments about how you should be able to trust your
boyfriend.
Instead, I hope she comes to the conclusion herself, and add, “Ellen, you haven’t missed an assignment turn-in date once in your entire life.”

She sighs. “You’re right about that, but I guess there’s always a first time for everything, isn’t there? But—wait, let’s see what I typed in my phone calendar.” She pauses on her crutches and grabs her iPhone out of her back pocket. She frowns. “Look. It’s all here.”

I lean over her shoulder to peer at her calendar, trying very hard not to notice how I’ve pinpointed that her new shampoo smells like honey and vanilla all at once.

Like she’s a pastry or something…

My stomach growls desperately as I read:
Project two, as well as Human Expressions DUE before Grand Bend trip AT 5PM.

“See?” She sighs. “I just must have typed in the wrong thing. I’ll have to check Harrison’s list that he gave me with all the dates on it. I do remember typing it—and I also remember that I wasn’t exactly myself that day because…because…”

She glances up at me, and I realize I’m standing way too close to her.

“Because that was the day you came back…
here
.”

I step back and cross my arms, feeling like I need a shield of armor against her—against the wave of longing washing over me that’s so huge I’m already swept away. I’m unable to stop from admiring her soft skin and the way her braid nestles against what I know is the softest part of her neck. I’m unable to stop staring at the way she chews her lips, bottom to top, then top to bottom when she’s worried, like she is now. And it takes all of my strength to tear my gaze off her big, wide-set black eyes, all while I’m unable to not wish I could run my finger along the little twists at the edges of her lips that are always there even when she’s not smiling—and simply make her smile with that one move.

“Ah. That makes sense. Of course this is my fault,” I say, pushing away our past and locking myself back in the present. The present nightmare of Ellen Foster and I being
just-freaking

stupid-suck-ass friends. Friends. Friends. Friends. God how I hate that damn word!

She protests, “No! I’d worked out so hard at the pool that day that I could hardly move. I’m sure I added the dates while I was exhausted.”

“Because you cried your ass off that day and because you probably worked out too hard so you wouldn’t have to think about me.”

“Cam, this is so
you,
trying to take the blame for me.”

She laughs, and I hold my breath. Not because I want to, but because my entire body and soul have frozen with longing. I can’t believe how much want her to laugh and say my name at the same time again and again.

Finally I say, “Ah, so you
do
remember some of how I am. Good. Then you won’t stop me when I go explain to Professor Perry how this is all my fault.” I laugh, pretending I’m going to go back into the classroom.

She laughs again and pauses on her crutches to grab my shirt. “I remember
all
of how you are, and I don’t think Professor Perry needs to know our huge personal dramas. Do you?”

“I’m pretty sure he knows most of it.” I shrug. “Let me layer on how I’m a criminal and that I messed up your head and type in the wrong turn-in times. I know it will help.”

“Never.” She laughs again, and we fall in place beside each other as we exit into the small garden. “He gave me a second chance. He also lectured me about flirting with my boyfriend in class, and how I was losing focus on his lectures, as well as how my giggling in class makes him very upset. And”—she blinks as we make it to the gate that takes us to the quad and I hold it open for her—”that guy apparently thinks the worst of me. Like he somehow believes that I’ve been goofing off nonstop outside of class. Like, seriously going to parties and not working. I know I giggle a lot in class, but…he thinks I’m a girl gone wild.”

I roll my eyes. “He just doesn’t understand that you’re so ticklish that you giggle even if you think you’re going to be tickled.”

“Right! See? I must give off some sort of bad-girl vibe, huh?”

“So strange.” I frown, wondering as much as Ellen is where Professor Perry got his ideas. Can’t the guy see that all Ellen does is take photos, edit photos, wish to work more on photos—that is, until Harrison Shaw showed up in the mix. My head buzzes again with the realization that so much of this has to do with Ellen’s new boyfriend, but she can’t seem to see that, which makes me hate the guy more than I already do.

Ellen adds, “Anyhow, I explained everything and I’ve promised to work twice as hard as well as to cut the giggling, of course.”

“Well, good luck convincing Harrison not to shove pencils into your sides and tickle you all the damn day. That seems to be one of his favorite pastimes.”

“Oh, you guys noticed that?” Her cheeks go beet red. “Well, no wonder the professor’s angry if it’s disturbing all of you up there in the back row. I suppose it’s driving the guy insane because he’s only a few feet from us. It’s just that Harrison’s the kind of person who takes nothing seriously—like he plays all the time and he’s so—funny and he’s so cute and he cracks me up and Harrison probably doesn’t know what he’s doing to me—”

Something crossing my expression must have stopped her from going on, because she sort of stutters off into silence.

I hold quiet, too, because all I want to say is that I think Harrison does understand
exactly
what he’s doing. The question is,
why
is he doing it? But that won’t go over well. I bite my lower lip as I get angrier and angrier about my suspicions and, at this point, I’m counting down the seconds until I can corner Patrick after lunch with all this information so we can compare notes. I don’t even care if I sound like a psycho ex-boyfriend. I just want to lay it all on the table and have a talk. If Patrick thinks I’m way out of line and just being jealous and terrible, he’ll tell me to my face.

Or he’ll punch me. Either way. I’m looking forward to the conversation.

As we make it through the garden and take the shortcut that gets us directly in to the dining hall, I spy the jerk in question standing in the food line with Chloe, Charisse, and a their other friend Sheridan. Harrison doesn’t seem to be worried about Ellen at all—nor is he worrying about her or texting her to see if she’s okay. From here, he seems to be actually making his moves on the French girls. Possibly all of them, because he’s reaching around them to grab a food tray, all while moving in close and making them laugh flirtatiously.

Ellen sees him and waves, not annoyed like she should be, not jealous like she might be—
though she doesn’t need to be jealous, because she’s two thousand times more beautiful than any girl from France
—but still, she should be something besides grinning and in love with Harrison Shaw when he’s openly all over with other girls, shouldn’t she?

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