Never Never (12 page)

I stare at it a while longer and then place the photo back inside the locker. I check my phone to see if she’s texted. She hasn’t. I look around, just as Landon approaches from down the hall. He tosses words over his shoulder as he passes me. “Looks like Brian isn’t quite out of the picture yet, brother.”

The bell rings.

I look in the direction Landon came from and see a heavier crowd of students at that end of the hallway. People seem to be stalling, glancing over their shoulders. Some are looking at me, some are fixated on whatever is at the end of the hallway. I begin to walk in that direction and everyone’s attention falls on me as I pass.

A break in the crowd begins to shape and that’s when I see her. She’s standing against a row of lockers, hugging herself with her arms. Brian is leaning against one of the lockers, looking at her intently. He looks deep in conversation, whereas she just appears guarded. He spots me almost immediately and his posture stiffens along with his expression. Charlie follows his gaze until her eyes land on mine.

As much as I can assume she doesn’t need rescuing, relief falls over her as soon as we lock eyes. A smile tugs at her lips, and I want nothing more than to get him away from her. I spend two seconds deliberating. Should I threaten him? Should I hit him like I wanted so badly to hit him yesterday in the parking lot? Neither of these actions feels as though they’ll make the point I want to make.

“You should get to class,” I hear her say to him. Her words are quick, a warning, as if she’s afraid I’ve decided to punch him. She doesn’t have to worry. What I’m about to do will hurt Brian Finley a hell of a lot more than if I were to just hit him.

The second bell rings. No one moves. There are no students rushing to class to avoid being late. No one around me shuffles down the hall at the sound of the bell.

They’re all waiting. Watching. Expecting me to start a fight. I wonder if that’s what the old Silas would do? I wonder if that’s what the new Silas should do?

I ignore everyone but Charlie and walk confidently toward her, keeping my eyes trained on her the entire time. As soon as Brian sees me approaching, he takes two steps away from her. I look directly at him while I stretch out my hand toward her, giving her the choice to take it and go with me or remain where she is.

I feel her fingers slide between mine and she grips my hand tightly. I pull her away from the lockers, away from Brian, away from the crowd of students. As soon as we round the corner, she drops my hand and stops walking.

“That was a little dramatic, don’t you think?” she says.

I turn to face her. Her eyes are narrowed, but her mouth could pass for smiling. I can’t tell if she’s amused or angry.

“They expected a certain reaction from me. What’d you want me to do, tap him on the shoulder and ask politely if I could cut in?”

She folds her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I needed you to do anything?”

I don’t understand her hostility. It seemed like we left on good terms last night, so I’m confused as to why she seems so angry with me.

She rubs her hands up and down her arms and then her eyes fall to the floor. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I just…” She looks up at the ceiling and groans. “I was just prodding him for information. That’s the only reason I was with him in the hallway just now. I wasn’t flirting.”

Her response catches me off guard. I don’t like the look of guilt in her expression. That’s not why I pulled her away from him, but I realize now that she thinks I really am upset with her for being with him. I could tell she didn’t want to be there, but maybe she doesn’t realize how well I’ve learned to read her.

I take a step toward her. When she lifts her eyes to meet mine, I smile. “Would it make you feel better to know I was cheating on you with the guidance counselor?”

She sucks in a quick rush of air and shock registers on her face.

“You weren’t the only one who wasn’t committed to us, Charlie. Apparently we both had issues we needed to work out, so don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Relief probably isn’t the reaction a girl should have to finding out her boyfriend has been cheating on her, but it’s definitely what Charlie feels right now. I can see it in her eyes and I can hear it in the pent up breath she releases.

“Wow…,” she says, her hands falling to her hips. “So technically, we’re tied?”

Tied?
I shake my head. “This isn’t a game I want to win, Charlie. If anything, I’d say we both lost.”

Her lips spread into a ghostly grin, and then she looks over her shoulder. “We should figure out where our classes are.”

I remember the schedules and pull hers out of my back pocket. “We’re not together until fourth period History. You have English first. It’s back in the other hallway,” I say, motioning toward her first period classroom.

She nods appreciatively and unfolds the schedule. “Smart thinking,” she says, glancing it over. She looks back up at me with a wicked smile. “I guess you got these from your guidance counselor mistress?”

Her words make me wince, even though I shouldn’t really feel remorse for whatever happened before yesterday.

“
Ex
-guidance counselor mistress,” I clarify with a grin. She laughs, and it’s a laugh of solidarity. As screwed up as our situation is, and as confusing as the new information about our relationship is, the fact that we can laugh about it proves that we at least share in the absurdity of it all. And the only thought I have as I walk away from her is how much I wish Brian Finley could choke on her laugh.

The first three classes of the day felt foreign. No one in them and nothing discussed seemed familiar to me. I felt like an imposter, out of place.

But the instant I walked into fourth period and took a seat next to Charlie, my mood changed. She’s familiar. My only familiar thing in a world of inconsistency and confusion.

We stole a few glances at each other, but we never spoke during class. We aren’t even speaking now as we enter the cafeteria together. I glance at our table and everyone from yesterday is already seated, save our two empty seats.

I nudge my head toward the lunch line. “Let’s get our food first.”

She glances up at me, briefly, before looking back at the table. “I’m not really hungry,” she says. “I’ll just wait for you at the table.” She heads in the direction of our group and I head toward the cafeteria line.

After grabbing my tray and a Pepsi, I walk over to the table and take a seat. Charlie is looking down at her phone, excluding herself from the surrounding conversation.

The guy to my right—
Andrew, I think
—elbows me. “Silas,” he says, jabbing me repeatedly. “Tell him how much I benched Monday.”

I look up at the guy sitting across from us. He rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his soda before slamming it on the table. “Come on, Andrew. You think I’m stupid enough to believe your best friend wouldn’t lie for you?”

Best friend.

Andrew is my best friend, yet I wasn’t even sure of his name thirty seconds ago.

My attention moves from the two of them to the food in front of me. I open my soda and take a sip, just as Charlie clenches her waist. It’s loud in the cafeteria, but I still hear the rumble of her stomach. She’s hungry.

If she’s hungry, why isn’t she eating?

“Charlie?” I lean in close to her. “Why aren’t you eating?” She dismisses my question with a shrug. I lower my voice even more. “Do you have money?”

Her eyes dart up to mine as if I just revealed a huge secret to the entire room. She swallows and then looks away, embarrassed. “No,” she says quietly. “I gave my last few dollars to Janette this morning. I’ll be fine until I get home.”

I set my drink down on the table and push my tray in front of her. “Here. I’ll go get another one.”

I stand and go back to the line and get another tray. When I return to the table, she’s taken a few bites of the food. She doesn’t tell me thank you, and I feel relieved. Making sure she has food to eat isn’t a favor I want to be thanked for. It’s something I hope she would expect from me.

“Do you want a ride home today?” I ask her, just as we’re finishing up our meal.

“Dude, you can’t miss practice again,” Andrew shoots in my direction. “Coach won’t let you play tomorrow night if you do.”

I rub a palm down my face, and then I reach in my pocket and retrieve my keys. “Here,” I tell her, placing them in her hand. “Drive your sister home after school. Pick me up when practice is over.”

She tries to hand the keys back to me, but I won’t take them. “Keep them,” I tell her. “You might need a car today and I won’t be using it.”

Andrew interrupts. “You’re letting her drive your car? Are you kidding me? You’ve never even let me sit behind the damn wheel!”

I look over at Andrew and shrug. “You aren’t the one I’m in love with.”

Charlie spits out her drink with a burst of laughter. I glance over at her, and her smile is huge. It lights up her entire face, somehow even making the brown of her eyes seem less dark. I may not remember anything about her, but I would bet her smile was my favorite part of her.

This day has been exhausting. It feels like I’ve been on a stage for hours, acting out scenes I have no script for. The only thing that appeals to me right now is either being in my bed or being with Charlie. Or maybe a combination of both.

However, Charlie and I both still have a goal, and that’s to figure out what the hell happened to us yesterday. Despite the fact that neither of us really wanted to bother with school today, we knew school could lead to an answer. After all, this did happen in the middle of the school day yesterday, so the answer could be related somehow.

Football practice may be of some help. I’ll be around people I haven’t spent much time with in the last twenty-four hours. I might learn something about myself or about Charlie that I didn’t know before. Something that could shed some light on our situation.

I’m relieved to find all the lockers have names on them, so it isn’t hard to locate my gear. What is hard is trying to figure out how to put it on. I struggle with the pants, all the while trying to look like I know what I’m doing. The locker room slowly empties out as all the guys make their way to the field until I’m the only one left.

When I think I’ve got everything situated, I grab my jersey off the top shelf of the locker to pull it on over my head. A box catches my eye, located in the back of the top shelf of my locker. I pull it toward me and take a seat on the bench. It’s a red box, much larger than a box that would just contain a piece of jewelry. I pull the lid off and find a few pictures at the very top.

There aren’t any people in the pictures. They seem to be of places. I flip through them and come to a picture of a swing set. It’s raining, and the ground beneath the swing is covered in water. I flip it over, and written on the back, it says,
Our first kiss.

The next picture is of a backseat, but the view is from the floorboard, looking up. I flip it over.
Our first fight.

Third is a picture of what looks like a church, but it’s only the picture of the doors.
Where we met.

I flip through all the pictures until finally I get to a letter, folded at the bottom of the box. I pick it up and unfold it. It’s a short letter in my handwriting, addressed to Charlie. I begin to read it, but my phone buzzes, so I reach over and unlock it.

Charlie: What time is your practice over?

Me: Not sure. I found a box of stuff in the locker room. Don’t know if it’ll help, but there’s a letter in it.

Charlie: What does it say?

“Silas!” someone yells from behind me. I spin around and drop two of the pictures in my hands. There’s a man standing at the door with an angry look on his face. “Get on the field!”

I nod and he continues on down the hall. I put the pictures back in the box and set it back inside my locker. I take a deep, calming breath and make my way out to the practice field.

Two lines are formed on the field, both rows of guys hunched forward and staring at the guy in front of them. There’s an obvious opening, so I jog toward the empty spot and copy what the other players are doing.