But he’s not unhappy. Or if he is, he hides it very well. He takes it all in stride. Like he’s got some secret. Something in his back pocket that will change my mind. Like all he has to do is bide his time.
And it’s a smart move. Because I do like him. And how practical is Mateo as a real boyfriend? What could we possibly have in common?
Sex.
I almost blush when the word manifests in my mind.
I don’t know why he makes me so turned on, but just thinking of him right now is enough to make me want it.
“Why are you blushing?”
I look up from my thoughts and realize everyone is getting up to go to their next class. “Um…” I laugh.
“You’re thinking about me, huh?”
“A little bit,” I confess. “I’m curious about why you’re so nice to me, actually.”
Sunday grabs my backpack and motions for me to walk with him.
I do. He’s got my pack, right?
“I’m nice to everyone I like.”
“Oh.” I chuckle a little under my breath.
“You’re pretty,” he says, shooting me a sideways look. “And smart. AP classes. I got a lot of details about you when we were sitting in the counseling office.”
“Yeah, that kinda sucks. No privacy.”
“Well,” he says, veering off into the main building where my English class is next period. “You handled it well. Aside from the three fucks.”
I laugh out loud at that one. “Bowman should’ve suspended me. I was expecting it, actually.”
“He didn’t because he likes you too.”
“Right.”
“Nah, really. I watched him when you were talking about your geometry class. He was fascinated. Like you’re his dream student and he can shove you into being a productive adult if he can just get you through second semester senior year.”
“He’s nosy. He read my file. He knows about my sister. My situation.”
“What is your situation?” We stop outside my classroom and Sunday leans on a locker. And for some reason I don’t get the feeling that he’s being nosy.
“My sister died right after she gave birth to my niece. I live with my brother-in-law and the baby right now.”
“He’s the one who hit you.” It’s not a question.
“I got him back, so don’t worry about me. Sometimes you just need to have a who’s-in-charge fight, ya know?”
He stares at me. His smile is gone. “No, Shannon. I don’t know. I’ve had my share of fist fights, but I’ve never had them with the people I live with.”
“You’re lucky, I guess.”
“I guess I am.”
I don’t know what to say after that, so I just look down at my Chucks.
“I’ll take you to school if you want. I mean, after-school school.”
I should say yes. Everything inside of me wants to say yes. But it’s not fair to him. “Nah, my brother-in-law is gonna take me. Make up for the other night. And buy me dinner,” I add, to sweeten the story.
Sunday hands my pack over and I take it. “OK,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch then.”
“Yeah, lunch is my new favorite.”
He shoots me one of those amazing smiles, and with something that looks a little bit like reluctance, walks off.
The rest of my day goes by fast. You know how it goes—you don’t have a ride to night school and you’re wishing the day could be longer so you can figure it out. But no. Two-thirty comes way too fast and after I go to my locker and get what I need for tonight, I have to face the fact that it’s the bus or it’s walking.
And I can’t stand at the bus stop in front of school, because Sunday hangs out at the arcade across the street. So I walk home and sit on the couch until four when I have to decide.
What if I don’t go? Will Mateo come here looking for me?
I don’t want that. I was lucky Jason didn’t come home and find us out on the patio last night. I really don’t need any more drama.
So I walk back up to Lincoln and catch the bus a few blocks down from school.
I hate my life the whole twenty-minute ride down to Gilbert. I should not have to take the bus to night school. I should not even have to go to night school. Everything is unfair.
I tuck my pity party away when I get to school, but when I pull on the door to go inside, it’s locked.
I look around for Mateo’s car or bike, but the lot is empty.
I will cut a bitch if I just hauled myself over here for no reason. I swear to God, I will—
The loud roar of a bike cuts me off and even though I don’t want to feel the wetness between my legs, there it is.
I throb for him.
He pulls up next to me and pulls a helmet out of one of his side packs. “Get on,” he says, revving the engine.