“Of course not.” I scooted over to make room for him on the bench beside me, but it was a tight fit between us and a group of sophomores sharing the long table.
Shawn jutted his hand out and introduced himself and Bronwyn. She flashed me a knowing look and a grin which caused heat to wash over my face.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” Bronwyn said. “Cady was telling me what a big help you have been for her these last couple of weeks.”
Bryan’s eyes lit up at the compliment, and I didn’t know whether or not to be embarrassed to have been caught talking about him. The denim of his black jeans rested lightly against my thigh, and it was all I could do not to press closer against him. The strange emotions rolling through me began to be replaced with a calm happiness.
“Bryan just moved here from Oregon,” I said, trying to make conversation. This led to a discussion on how lame Dubuque must be after living in a big city like Portland. To our surprise, Bryan claimed to like it here.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he explained. “Portland is great and there is always lots to do, but I’m starting to get used to being in a city where I can get from one end to the other in less than a half hour and without ending up in a traffic jam. Before moving here, I thought it was going to be all cows and country music.”
My friends and I groaned with the Iowa stereotype.
“But it’s not like that here at all.”
Shawn raised his right hand in oath, “I swear I have never milked a cow in my life.”
Bronwyn giggled. “That’s because you’re scared of them!”
“Hey,” he protested. “Those things are huge compared with a ten-year-old!”
“We went to a farm for a field trip in fourth grade, and Shawn literally squealed when a cow walked up behind him,” she explained.
“It had this evil look in its eye,” Shawn claimed. “I think it had mad cow disease or rabies or something.”
“Oh, the Mad Rabid Cow of Iowa!” I exclaimed laughing. “Stop talking about it, or you’ll scare Bryan away.” It had been so long since I really laughed, and it felt wonderful.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone looking in my direction. Cane Matthews stood a few tables over holding his tray of food in one hand and a bottle of Vitamin water in the other. His glare turned my blood to ice water, halting my giggles instantly.
Shawn followed my gaze. “What’s his problem?” he asked.
I shrugged and stared down at the table.
Bryan’s gaze narrowed in on Cane, and he leaned a little bit closer to me.
“It must be hard on him to see Cady,” Bronwyn answered. “She’s like a living reminder of Lony.”
“So? It’s not like she can help it,” Shawn stuck up for me.
I hadn’t really thought about how it must be for Cane to face me, the mirror image of his dead girlfriend. A shiver rolled down my spine. I wondered how he was holding up. Even though I always sort of thought of him as a meat-head, he always treated my sister well. He also had been the person standing closest to Lony when the train struck, which meant he’d had a front row view of the carnage, something I missed out on witnessing by passing out. Part of me wanted to go talk to him, to comfort him in some way, but I knew it would probably just make things worse.
After lunch, Bryan and I walked together to class.
“I like your friends,” he commented. “They’re cool.”
“Thanks.”
“So are Shawn and Bronwyn like…together?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No. Shawn…well…let’s just say you’re more his type than we are.”
“Oh…I get it.”
I glanced over to see his expression. If Bryan turned out to be some sort of homophobe, I might have to give this friendship another thought.
He just winked at me. “Shawn’s cute and all, but I’m afraid my interests lean in another direction.”
I blushed and then scolded myself. He was not flirting with you! He was just letting you know he’s straight.
In lit class, the whirlwind of emotions crept up again, but Bryan’s presence behind me helped me to keep them at bay. Focusing my mind on him distracted me from the other feelings. I even raised my hand to answer for the first time all day. But when lit was over, and I went to French class, I felt like a ship lost at sea.
I struggled to concentrate. Along with the variety of emotions I’d been experiencing all day, there was something darker coming over me, a deep black cloud of depression, different from what I’d been feeling at home. The classroom was set up with the desks in a circle to promote conversation. I peered around at the other students to see if they felt anything amiss. Some seemed tired, a few bored, and one guy bobbed his head up and down slightly to the beat of the ear buds under the hood of his sweatshirt. Around me, the flowery language filled the air like the scent of perfume at a funeral.