Adorkable(65)

“Don’t know.” I shrugged. “Why’d you agree to this anyway?”

“Like I said, Spitz, I’m into older women.”

Just like before, I blushed, and he grinned.

“But besides that,” Ash went on, “I had something to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at school?” I asked.

“I tried, but it just seemed like you weren’t all there.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry about what went down with Becks.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, well…” A small breeze fluttered the ends of his dirty blond hair as he nodded to himself. “A kiss should satisfy them, I think.”

“What do you—?”

Before I could finish, Ash had leaned down to my cheek, placing a soft kiss just next to my temple and sliding something from his pocket into my hand.

“Thanks for tonight, Spitz.” Then in a voice barely audible, he added, “If you want to do something about Becks, let me know.”

With that, he pulled back and walked away.

I was frozen in place.

“Oooh, that was so cute,” Hooker said, gliding up to me. “The temple kiss, classic gentlemanly behavior. One point, Ash. What’d he give you anyway?”

With stiff fingers, I opened the note, staring as I realized I hadn’t imagined what I’d heard.

Hooker frowned. “What’s it say, Spitz? You know I can’t read German.”

My voice sounded as if it came from a distance. “It says, ‘Meet me outside Chem Lab, tomorrow at six o’clock.’“

“Demanding,” she said with a nod. “I like it.” When I didn’t respond, she looked at my face. “You okay, Spitz?”

I honestly didn’t know.

What I’d heard Ash say before, what he had said, wasn’t exactly, “If you want to do something about Becks, let me know.” That was the English translation.

What he’d said was: “Wenn ich mich um Becks kümmern soll, sag Bescheid.”





CHAPTER 14





At the party, I’d never once stopped to consider. My emotions had swept me away on a wind of disappointment, anger and finally exhaustion. The ten other people who took German had trouble stringing two sentences together, and besides, they weren’t even there (besides Hooker). It’d been a relief to tell my secret, and not tell it at the same time.

There was just one problem: Someone at the party had understood every word.

And he had absolutely no reason to keep quiet.

Where was he?

Pacing the width of the hall, I looked right and left. Ash’s note had said to be here at six—an ungodly hour, especially since I’d gotten next to no sleep last night. My nerves had kept me awake, tossing and turning, until I just gave up. The bad thing was that gave me plenty of time to think up all the ways this meeting could go sour. When I got to one hundred, I stopped counting.

I re-checked the note then looked at my cell.

Great. He was already five minutes late.

My footsteps echoed off the tile in the empty place. I’d never been inside Chariot High when it was this deserted. It was a little eerie. When I’d driven up, there were seriously only three other cars in the lot. Probably janitorial staff.

I checked the time again. 6:07a.m.

Fantastic. Ash was blowing me off. He’d probably decided it wasn’t worth it to drag his butt out of bed, even though he’s the one who set the time. Serves me right for putting my faith in a guy whose name was one letter away from ass.

At that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed my shirt, jerking me backward.

The space was dark, cramped. I couldn’t see three inches in front of me but knew I wasn’t alone. I was about to start screaming to high heaven, had drawn in a breath, when the light clicked on.

“Morning, Spitz,” Ash said with a grin. “Sleep well last night?”

I frowned, taking in my surroundings. My sleep-deprived mind took a second to recognize where I was, but once I did, I nearly let lose a string of hysterical laughter. It was the same storeroom I’d pulled Becks into, where I’d asked and he’d agreed to be my F.B.F. Now Ash was looking at my face with the power to expose me, his eyes far too assessing. It didn’t get much more ironical than that.

“So,” I said, leaning back, playing it cool, “you speak German.”

“Ja,” he said, taking up the same position on the opposite wall. “My grandma and grandpa are from the old country, spent every summer there since I was two. ‘Stryker’ is German, you know.”

Mentally, I cursed. We’d gone over German surnames back in sophomore year. Why hadn’t I paid better attention? It might’ve saved me from this whole sticky situation.