Breakable Page 8

  I blinked, shrugged, had to rewind the past few minutes in my head. There was something uncomfortable in his tone. “I guess I just meant… the girls you date are pretty popular. They’re used to being someone guys want to be with. Not just a friend. And that’s how they look at guys, too. I think they don’t really believe we can hang out without… you know…”

  Mark frowned. “But–”

  “C’mon, you know I’m right. Remember Fiona?”

  Mark had dated Fiona for three months the year before. She went to a different school. They’d broken up partly because she kept irritating him with questions about me. Questions, and barely veiled implications of cheating, or threats to leave him when he did.

  Mark’s lips twisted. That break up had been particularly bitter. He never said anything, but he acted weird – kind of stiff and uncertain – with me for weeks. I always suspected she accused him of having feelings for me.

  “Bad example,” he said. “Fiona was insecure about everything…”

  He’d mentioned this before, about her and other girlfriends too. I didn’t see it. From where I sat, the girls he dated walked around like they owned the place, ordered any lesser mortals to do their bidding, and generally convinced everyone they were perfect.

  Sometimes I wondered exactly how Mark defined insecure.

  “…but I know what you mean. Sometimes I think they’re right.” He stared at the canvas in front of him, tone absent.

  “Right about what?”

  “About how guys and girls can’t ever really be just friends. I mean, how many times do I make friends with girls just to see if I do want to date them? To kind of…grease the wheels? ”

  And how many times did I wish Mark saw me as a wheel to grease? “Then I guess you can’t blame Karyn for getting upset,” I said uncertainly. His words placed a strange mix of hope and panic in my chest.

  Mark blinked, then turned to look at me. “Except for you,” he said, hastily. “I mean, I wasn’t just…it’s never been–”

  “I know,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant.” And while I applauded myself for keeping my voice light and casual as I explained to him that girls made that assumption about me because they knew guys thought that way about them, inwardly I recoiled from the conversation. Because finally I was facing an uncomfortable truth:

  I had become such a friend to Mark, he didn’t even see me as a girl anymore.

  We dropped into silence again and I attacked the sketch in front of me with renewed vigor. It was official. I had to final in this competition. I had to get to New York. It was my only ticket out of here, and away from watching Mark choose someone else.

  And with that thought, a cold kind of comfort settled into the easy quiet between us.

  He might not be mine. Not the way I wanted. But I was going to make sure he didn’t belong to Karyn, either. Maybe I couldn’t tell Mark what I’d seen – yet – but either I’d get that letter back, or I’d stick so close I’d be there when Karyn and Finn screwed up. And I would make certain Mark saw it for himself. If Finn showed Mark the letter, I’d say goodbye to him because I had to. But at least when all was said and done, Mark would know who his real friends were.

  Chapter Eleven

  When the bell rang for break, Mark and I were still packing up. By the time we left the art room, it was empty. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the hallway.

  As we stepped out the door, the sea of student life parted to reveal Karyn standing across the hall, leaned up against a bank of lockers, her platinum waves pulled over one shoulder. Her stance was casual, relaxed. She greeted a couple seniors with a small smile as they passed.

  To anyone who didn’t know better, she was untouchable.

  But her icy-blue eyes were just a little narrower than usual, and throwing sparks instead of twinkling. They locked on Mark a split second after we stepped through the door, then cut to me.

  I couldn’t help a tiny curl of satisfaction over her fear, because it was clear as she looked back at Mark, she searched his face for anger.

  “Hey, babe.” Mark’s gentle tone, combined with the way he reached for her hand, must have reassured her. Her face lit up. She twined her fingers in his as we turned together down the hallway, her clutching his arm like it was a life preserver. Which I couldn’t blame her for, I guess. I probably would have done the same.

  “So, Kar, have you heard about Friday yet?” Mark asked as we wove down the hall. Or rather, he and Karyn strode down the hall, nodding to friends and taking the path that opened up through the ocean walking in other directions.

  I wove. And tripped over sly feet. And twisted to pass without being thumped in the shoulder.

  “Oh! Yeah, Lisa said her parents are leaving at four, so she’s telling everyone seven, just so she can be sure they’re really gone.”

  “Sounds good. Um… I’ve been talking to Stace and I was thinking she can come with us. Just to–”

  “What?!” Karyn and I shrieked in unison. I wasn’t sure whether that was funny or frightening. Mark frowned at her first, then glanced back at me. I’d just stopped in my tracks to avoid being flattened by a group of sophomore jocks. It took a few steps to get caught up again.

  Mark’s expression apparently kept Karyn’s trap shut, so it was left to me to explain how stupid this idea was.

  “Mark,” I said with a tone designed to let him know I didn’t want to discuss this in front of her. “I don’t think a party is the best way to start.”

  “I wasn’t starting with that. I was thinking you could come to the rec room with us during breaks this week, just to let everyone get used to having you around. Then head to the party with us Friday. Lisa’s always too drunk to care who shows up. And her parties are a little more casual.”

  “So, you decided Mark’s idea was okay after all, I guess, Stacy?” Karyn said without actually meeting my eyes.

  The edge in her voice made me want to smile. “Sort of. I learned something recently that changed my mind about all these stupid social rules.”

  “What was that?” Mark looked genuinely interested. Karyn glared around his chest.

  I shrugged. “Nothing interesting. But it made me realize that no-one else is better than me, you know? So why should I let them win? It kind of feels like if I do, I’m helping them, well, cheat.”

  Mark frowned and Karyn’s eyes flared.

  “In the game of life,” I added hastily.

  Mark looked puzzled.

  “Karyn knows what I mean,” I told him, flapping a hand towards her.

  “You two talked?” He looked down at Karyn. Her eyes slid from my face – hard, cutting, shooting flame – to his, morphing into self-conscious adoration in the process.

  After a beat too long she replied. “Only for a minute,” she said, then blinked prettily. She sounded, of all things, humble.

  I snorted. Right. Gag me with a fishhook. Seriously. Just yank my guts up through my esophagus and out of my throat. How did she do that?

  Mark opened his mouth – and I was looking forward to hearing whatever Karyn would come up with to answer the inevitable questions – when the waves ahead of us parted and a tall, athletic, male form in jeans and a loose hoodie that made his shoulders look six feet wide slid to a stop in front of us.

  “Did you guys hear?” Liam had hair white and soft as a baby rabbit’s. His usually porcelain-pale face flushed red whenever he was excited, and his eyes put me in mind of some kind of porcine animal (an anteater, or a hedgehog, I’d never quite decided). But somehow the six-foot frame, all-state tennis record, and easy laugh made up for it. Next to Mark he was probably the most popular guy in our class. And, strangely, he’d never targeted me.

  Of course, he never registered my existence either. Like right now, his gaze flicked between Mark and Karyn making his question for them, without so much as a blink in my direction.

  Our little procession stopped. Karyn’s eyes lit up at the hint of gossip, while Mark just s
hook his head.

  Liam leaned closer. “Dexter’s back.”

  My stomach spiraled. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible, surely?

  Mark and I were both silent. I pleaded with God to make it a bad coincidence. Please, let there be another “Dexter”. Please!

  Karyn obviously gave up trying to read everyone’s minds. She came to life first. “Who’s Dexter?”

  Dexter was my secret ex-boyfriend. Sort of.

  Liam glanced down at her, then grinned. “That scary skater-kid who got expelled at the end of last year for beating up a teacher.”

  That too.

  Karyn’s mouth dropped open with delight.

  Mark looked at me, my alarm and disbelief mirrored on his face.

  “Th-that can’t be right. I mean, why would they let him back in?” I stammered.

  Liam looked startled, like I’d just appeared out of nowhere and started talking. But recovered quickly enough to shrug. “Who knows? Apparently he was in sophomore classes for the first two periods. But someone saw him in the hall and Finn ran into him in Coach’s office. He’s going to be on the team.”

  What? Dex? A footballer?

  “Everyone’s gone to the rec room to see if he’ll come there for break.” The rec room was a small, thin, former classroom that had been assigned as a sitting room for anyone in the junior class. We were allowed to go there for breaks, free periods, or during lunch. It wasn’t much except some old furniture and motivational posters, but Mark’s crowd liked to hold court there.

  The Dex I knew wouldn’t have been seen dead there…but he wouldn’t have been “talking to Coach” either.

  Karyn’s love for gossip meant she clearly couldn’t get involved in this little drama quickly enough. She leaned forward into the news, like she might take off right then to find Dex.

  But I took a step back.

  This couldn’t be right.

  Mark looked at me and swallowed. He knew the story. Knew what it would mean for me if Dex was here. But he was sworn to secrecy. He couldn’t say anything in front of the others.

  “Well, come on!” Karyn said in her little-girl voice. “Let’s go. I want to meet this guy.”

  Mark was still staring at me. “Stace?” he asked carefully.

  I shook my head. “You guys go. I have…I have to go to the library.”

  Karyn and Liam had already turned and started through the crowd, Karyn obviously pumping Liam for more information.

  I started walking backwards, eyes locked with Mark. His face had gone blank. I knew he’d be concerned, and I appreciated it. But no way was I going to risk running into Dex.

  “See you,” I called quietly and turned, plowing back through the crowd the way we’d come, trying to ignore the tightening in my stomach and the chilling nerves playing havoc with my muscles.

  I doubt Mark tried to follow – it would have looked strange to everyone else if he had. But he’d track me down later.

  For once I hoped he wouldn’t find me.

  Something smacked into my shoulder. “Watch it!” a voice snapped.

  My shoulder ached. But I just kept my eyes down and kept walking. I couldn’t afford to stop. I couldn’t afford to get upset. If Dex was headed for the rec room, then I would take my spinning head and hide in the library.

  This didn’t make sense. Why would they let him back? And if he knew he was coming, why wouldn’t he have at least warned me?

  I scoffed. That was easy. He’d left town without even telling me he was going. Why bother letting me know he was back?

  I scuttled out the door at the end of the hall, took the long way around to the quad, and ducked through the library’s glass doors without taking my eyes off my feet.

  Now that the first of the shock was wearing off, anger and fear moved in to replace it. I pushed through the set of swinging fire doors into the library with a little more force than was strictly necessary. The librarian snapped her head up and frowned. But I just stomped across the room, ignoring her.

  Why would they let him back?

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  The voice stopped me cold. It was a little deeper than I remembered. Oddly, a little warmer. In the second before I turned, I thanked God that I’d been warned. It was the only thing that let me pivot on my heel to face him, raise my eyebrows and say in my most nonchalant voice, “Dex? What are you doing here?”

  He sprawled in one of the fat reading chairs that littered the library to encourage deviant high schoolers to take a seat with a book. One massive foot dangled from the top of the other long knee. His shoulders matched the breadth of the chair when he was slouched in it like that.

  An alarm-bell rang somewhere in my head, signaling that all was not right here. But I was too busy absorbing the sight of him, right there in front of me after almost a year. It wasn’t until my gaze slid up his firm torso, to his throat, his jaw, his eyes, that the screaming in my head stopped.

  “Dex?” I asked. Because the Dex I’d known was nowhere to be seen.

  The Dex I’d known had a shaved head. An eyebrow piercing. Lanky limbs. Elbows too big for the rest of him (which was saying something). He’d had eyes that were always hooded and glazed, bad skin, and an attitude to match.

  This Dex looked like someone climbing out of the Levi’s catalogue.

  He unfolded himself from the chair and stood, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, with a smile that tried too hard. His hair hung long enough to fall across his forehead and almost into his eyes. But it was clean.

  In fact, I realized, everything about him was clean. He’d always been grubby before – dirt and grass stains on his jeans, holes in his shirts, hats with sweat-rings.

  But now his white t-shirt was spotless under a black leather jacket that fit him perfectly. The elbows on it crinkled like it was a favorite – worn all the time. Yet there were no oil-spots, no pulling seams, no cigarette holes.

  He must have seen my confusion, because a wide grin split his face. He took a step forward, but stopped when I took a step back.

  The grin disappeared and his hands came up, palms to me, like he was soothing a skittish animal. “It’s okay, Stace. I promise.”

  “What happened to you?” My voice was too soft, too pleading. I didn’t sound angry. Worse, I didn’t sound like I didn’t care. “Why did they let you back?”

  His brows pulled down. “What do you mean?”

  “They expelled you. Why did they let you come back?” My brain kept short-circuiting on that. What was he even doing here?

  “Oh…well, I guess that’s what the rumors said, huh?”

  I waited.

  “Can’t believe everything you hear,” he said carefully watching my face.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you’d told me what happened. Where you went. The fact that you were going.”

  His shoulders rounded. He nodded to the carpet. “You’re right. I know. I’m sorry. I should have written. But I was so busy at first–”

  “Dex, I don’t want to hear it. Seriously.”

  He frowned again. “Hear what?”

  “Whatever excuse you have for falling off the face of the earth.” I said quietly. For leaving me to find out from Belinda that you were never coming back.

  He nodded again. “You’re right. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

  I gaped. Who was this guy? He looked like he’d body-snatched the Dex I knew, taken a few months of weight-lifting classes, and consulted a stylist. And he apologized?

  “I don’t expect you to trust me…at least not right away,” Dex continued, his eyes locked on mine. “But I want you to know that I’m really sorry for…for everything. And I’ve changed.”

  I swallowed, shifted my weight. Felt incredibly uncomfortable – and aware that we were drawing an audience.

  A couple girls stood a few feet away, books in hand. Probably on their way to see the librarian but unable to because I stood in the middle of the walkway having a private reunion.


  To be fair, they didn’t look like they minded.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off Dex. But I didn’t know what to say. Or what to do.

  But in yet another display of a Dex I’d never met, he stepped forward, took my hand, and leaned gently down to whisper in my ear.

  “They didn’t expel me, Stellar,” he said, using the pet name he’d had for me. I bit my lip. “They sent me to rehab.”

  That’s when it all clicked into place.

  Chapter Twelve

  Doctor is still leaning over the back of his chair to look at me. He frowns. “Dex?”

  “My ex-boyfriend. Kind of.” I still struggle to categorize Dex that way.

  Doctor waits for an explanation. I pretend it’s no big deal.

  “Me and Dex dated sophomore year. In secret.”

  “Why in secret?”

  By this time my scars are hurting and I’m sick of staring at the painting. I use the time it takes to walk back to my chair to figure out how to answer this. Doc’s eyes follow me the whole time. No pressure.

  “Dex and I had different friends.” Meaning he had some. “But during the summer between freshman and sophomore year I decided I wanted to learn to skate. Dex and his friends were the local skaters. We got talking… Things didn’t get, you know, personal between us until we were almost back at school. At the time he asked me to keep it quiet, so I did.”

  …A warm finger brushed my cheek. I froze while slowly, slowly Dex pushed the chunk of hair back over my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my back. His eyes never left the movie, but then – wide eyed and bewildered – I looked up, into his smile.

  “Is that okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Sure.”

  Then he took my hand and laced his fingers into mine.

  Thud, thud, thud. My heart banged against my ribs so loud I was sure he would hear it. I couldn’t take my eyes off our hands. What did this mean? Were we dating now? Or was he just flirting? Did this mean I’d go back to school in two weeks with a boyfriend?! Did I want Dex to be my boyfriend?