But I was worried about him, so I stayed even when he told me to go. And then he’d kissed me. It had been rough at first, like he was trying to hurt me, but then he’d softened, and before I knew it, I was grabbing on to fistfuls of his T-shirt. My knees went weak, and I wasn’t sure if I actually made a whimper or if it had just been in my head. I hoped it was in my head. Considering how abruptly he’d left me, I didn’t want to have made a sound. And I wished I hadn’t grabbed on to him.
It ended as suddenly as it had begun. He didn’t say a word when he backed away from me. He didn’t look at me. Instead he’d turned and stalked over to his truck and left. I had no idea who he was. All I knew was that he was beautiful and haunted and he’d given me a first kiss to remember.
Two hours later, when Brady had finally decided to leave, he’d found me dozing on the ground under my tree. He’d been annoyed and hadn’t said anything to me on the drive home. The kiss faded into the background as I focused on how to make my cousin not hate me.
Sunday, when Brady had plans to go to a friend’s house to swim, Aunt Coralee had tried to ship me off with him. But I’d written her a note telling her my period had started and I didn’t feel like it, and she let me stay home.
Brady ended up being gone all day. I was sure he was worried that if he came home, she would try to foist me on him all over again.
Today I started school, and she gave Brady a to-do list all about me. I felt bad for him. You could see the frustration on his face. So I handed him a note as soon as we got there.
I got this. Do what you do, and I’ll show up in class. Just cause I don’t talk doesn’t mean I can’t get around. I’ll tell Aunt Coralee you did everything she said. But I don’t want you taking me everywhere. I want to do this alone.
He hadn’t looked too convinced, but he nodded and took off, leaving me at the entrance of the school.
Luckily, Aunt Coralee had prepared the front office for the fact I didn’t speak. They were fine with me writing down everything I needed to say. They gave me my schedule and asked where Brady was. Apparently, Aunt Coralee had also told them Brady would be my guide. I lied and wrote down that he had gone to the restroom and was meeting me in the hallway.
A small part of me—okay, a really big part of me—hoped I’d see the guy from the field party. I wanted to see him in the light. I wanted to see if he was okay. And, I hoped, maybe he’d want to see me.
Once I had directions to my locker, I went to look for it, feeling accomplished. Actually finding it was another thing entirely. With people filling the hallways, many of them in their lockers or in front of their lockers or making out against their lockers, I couldn’t see the numbers. Finding 654 was basically impossible.
“You good?” Brady’s voice came from behind me, and I nodded, not wanting to tell him I wasn’t exactly great and would probably be late for class.
“Where’s your locker?” he asked.
I thought about how to answer that and just handed him the paper with my locker number on it.
“You already passed it,” he replied, nodding back down the hall. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I didn’t have time to write out an argument. Instead I just followed him. He was going to help me anyway and, if I admitted it to myself, I needed his help.
Unlike when I had walked down the hallway, fighting through the packed bodies, everyone created a path for Brady. It was like he was Moses and this was the Red Sea.
“Move the make-out fest over about five inches. Maggie can’t get in her damn locker,” Brady told a couple who was mid-grope-session.
“Who’s Maggie?” the girl asked, turning to look at me. She had big brown eyes and an olive complexion. Her long black hair was even more striking.
“My cousin,” Brady replied, sounding annoyed.
“You got a cousin?” she asked, surprised. The guy’s hands, which had previously been on the girl’s bottom, moved to her hips and he shifted her over. Before I could see the guy’s face, Brady stepped back and held my locker open for me. “There you go. I’ll be around if you need me again.” Then he left me there and walked away.
I didn’t make eye contact with or even look at the couple beside me. The girl giggled, then I heard the guy whisper to her—the word mute was something I didn’t miss. Apparently, Brady had told people I was mute. I guess at least I wouldn’t have anyone trying to talk to me.
“She don’t talk?” the girl whispered back, loud enough for me to hear her.
I quickly put my books in my locker before closing it, making sure to hold on to my textbook and a notebook for my first class. Determined not to look at the couple, I kept my head down. My gaze landed on the guy’s hands, now gripping the girl’s bottom again. I guess this was something I was going to have to get used to.
I stepped into the hallway without looking up, and a hard body hit me in the side, knocking me backward.
“Shit, sorry,” a male voice said as I collided with the gropey make-out couple. Great. “You okay?” asked the guy who ran into me.
I looked up to see a pair of the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen, set against pretty mocha-colored skin. The combination was definitely striking but, unfortunately, he wasn’t my mystery guy.
“Watch it,” the girl behind me snapped, shoving me off her.
The textbook and notebook in my hands fell to the floor, causing even more of a scene. I didn’t like to draw attention, but that seemed to be all I could do.