Part 2 (2/2)

I studied the girls at school, the happy ones who kissed and held hands with their boyfriends. Was that what I'd looked like with Caleb, so carefree? Would Caleb want the kind of carefree girl I'd been? Didn't he deserve that?

Right before Christmas break a guy on the basketball team asked me out. While he was waiting for a response, I'd just stared back at him in panicked silence. The appropriate response had been drumming in my head. All I'd had to do was tell him I had a boyfriend, but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth.

Eventually, he'd given me an odd look deserving of the freak I was and walked away shaking his head. I'd missed the period after lunch that day and hid in the bathroom again. Every time I ditched a cla.s.s, I had to tell the school psychologist so it could be excused.

The confessions were their own special humiliation and they always notified my dad.

When Caleb had casually mentioned one day over the phone that he wished we could talk during his phone time during the weekdays, I'd almost laughed. How could I tell him I missed cla.s.s all the time? That the girls' restrooms at school were becoming my own person panic rooms? I even had a favorite stall in each one. I might as well take a Sharpie to the metal walls and write Gianna was here...again.

Weekends breaking with the crew were actually somewhat calming. I slept over some Friday nights at Jared and Cece's house and we went to ballet together Sat.u.r.day morning. We usually ate at her family's restaurant afterward for lunch. By the time we got back to her house in the afternoon, the rest of the crew waited in the garage for a session.

I knew there was no way they knew about what happened. Caleb had promised not to tell Dante or Taye. Other than me, my friends didn't know anyone else from Broomfield. The paranoia about them finding out existed anyways.

At first, when the guys had to get up close to me during a routine, I'd start to feel panicky. Blaming it on my newly healed injuries, I'd tear myself away from whatever guy I danced with, trying to get myself under control. I'd fooled most of them, but Jared and Cece's concerns had been harder to brush off.

Cece kept giving me probing looks. She questioned my supposed cheerleading accident and Caleb being locked up around the same time. I lied as I always did, feeling guilty for the necessary deceit, but preferring it over my best friend finding out about the attack.

Jared was even more intuitive than Cece. Maybe it was some sort of ingrained male instinct, the ability to sense a damaged female. The old Jared would have pounced on Caleb being in juvie. Instead, he treated me with nothing but consideration, in a purely brotherly way.

At seven-fifteen in the morning I went back downstairs. My dad, now dressed in a dress s.h.i.+rt, tie and slacks, stood drinking another cup of coffee in the kitchen. Having now had an adequate dose of caffeine, he appeared much more cheerful. ”Hi, princess.”

How weird was it that Caleb and my dad called me the same nickname? I'd never told Caleb, because it might have freaked him out, but I'd secretly found it hilarious.

Plus, I liked it.

”Hey, I was just heading out.”

My dad checked the microwave clock. ”Yeah, me too. My first appointment is in an hour.”

He'd been able to get an office downtown in a building filled with other cosmetic doctors. His practice opened for business last month. I'd always been in awe of my dad's intelligence. Even with a wife and kid, he'd been able to get through medical school. He was thirty-three now and a handsome guy. I imagined he'd eventually remarry now that he'd settled into private practice.

”Got all your homework done?” he asked uncomfortably. It'd been years since he'd had to parent full time and the last was when I'd been in the third grade.

”If I said no?” I teased him.

For a moment he looked unsure, then his face melted in a smile. ”Get to school, brat.”

Ten minutes later I parked my Jeep in a spot close to a side entrance of the main building. It was chilly this morning and I'd had the heater on full blast during the drive to school. Gray clouds painted the sky and my weather app said there'd be AM snow showers. I grabbed my thicker winter coat from the backseat and shrugged it on over the lightweight cropped jacket.

I'd arrived at school a half hour early and had time to kill. I wandered inside, pa.s.sing in the hallway a few teachers and students, none of which I knew personally. The lounge area by the cafeteria had diner-style booths which weren't very comfortable but provided a place to hang out when not in cla.s.s or during lunch. The dimly lit area was decorated in the school colors of green and yellow gold.

Hefting my backpack onto a dark green laminate tabletop, I slid into the bench seat. I took out my used copy of The Scarlet Letter and began reading where I'd left off yesterday. We'd have a big test on the book in cla.s.s next week and I hadn't finished it yet.

The story was sucky and depressing. I wished we had a cooler English teacher who'd picked a better book for us to read. This was the same book kids my age had been forced to read for decades. Surely something less boring had been published in the last century.

The thud of another backpack hitting the table's surface caused me to flinch and suck in a breath of alarm. I let it out and a.s.sessed the guy taking the seat across from me. He put his elbows on the table, templing his fingers in front of his lips. His pensive gesture and expression were unnerving.

”Um, yeah?” I curtly asked.

The three feet of table between us provided me with a limited sense of security. So did the pepper spray in the front pocket of my backpack. It was a definite violation of school rules, but I didn't give a d.a.m.n. If I ever needed to use it I'd deal with the consequences like a big girl.

A grin spread from behind his fingers. ”I thought that was you. Saw you, but your hair is different. Looks good.”

My face must have expressed my confusion because he brought his hands down and leaned back. ”You don't remember me?”

Looking him over, he seemed familiar. His black hair was buzzed short and he had a small s.p.a.cer in one ear. At his left wrist, a hint of tattoo peeked out from the sleeve of his thermal s.h.i.+rt. His features hinted at a mix of Caucasian and Asian ancestry.

I copied his casual position. ”You're from my old school.”

”You're totally guessing, aren't you?”

I nodded in answer.

He held out a hand. ”I'm Kara's brother, Gage.”

Since his hand was stretched out patiently, I cautiously placed my own in it, shaking once and pulling away. ”I'm Gianna.”

There wasn't much resemblance to Kara and I figured they were half-siblings. Kara and I had been friends for awhile when we were little, but I didn't remember her brother.

His hand disappeared with the other one under the table and he gave me a small smile. ”Well, I don't blame you for not remembering me. We never had any cla.s.ses together since I'm a grade older and the last time we talked was when you came over to play with Kara in elementary school.”

At the mention of my old school, I wondered if he knew about what happened with Josh. Trying to feel him out, I asked, ”So what are you doing here?”

A hint of blush stained his cheeks, giving me an unexpected feeling of relief. ”Kinda sorta got expelled.”

I hadn't been expecting that answer. ”When?”

”Last week. This is my first day here. What about you?”

Maybe he hadn't heard about the incident last fall. He definitely hadn't been friends with the same crowd as me. ”I transferred here last semester.”

”How do you like it?”

It had never been a question of like or dislike. The school was across the city from my old life, that was all that mattered. Shrugging, I finally said, ”It's alright.”

”So, why'd you switch schools, Gianna?” The question might have been nonchalant for him, but it always forced me to be dishonest.

”My dad bought a house in Englewood. It was easier to switch schools than make the trip up to Broomfield every day.”

I gauged his reaction, happy when he appeared accepting of my lie. ”Are you a cheerleader at this school now?”

He probably remembered me wearing my uniform to school on game days. ”No cheering for me anymore.”

”Who do you hang out with here?” He glanced over my shoulder then his dark brown eyes returned to me.

”I, um, don't.” At his look of curious disbelief, I explained, ”Most of my friends go to school in Denver and Aurora. I just get an education here.”

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