Falling for the Ghost of You(27)

"What did you get on that Chem quiz?" Lauren asks me.

"Ninety-six." I say. "What about you?"

She smiles. "Ninety-eight."

I make a face at her. "Show off."

"Right, I studied my butt off. You rarely crack a book open. Are you going to work on your essay tonight?"

"No." I busy myself with running my fingers through my hair. "I think I'm hanging out with Zane tonight."

Lauren raises an eyebrow. "Again?"

"Yeah," I mumble nonchalantly. "It's no big deal. He asked if I wanted pizza for dinner. We might watch a movie after."

Lauren doesn't say anything, but her brown eyes seem judgmental.

"What?" I say, a tad defensively. "We're just friends. In fact, why don't you come over? You can finally meet him."

"Not today. I'm tutoring after school."

"Ugh. Is Mr. Tanner back yet, or do we still have Mr. Jensen?"

Lauren takes a long sip from her soda before answering. "Jensen. Mr. Tanner is still out sick. I think he's actually having some kind of surgery."

"Oh. Poor guy." I tsk sympathetically. "I like Jensen, though. They should just make him be our permanent teacher. He's been there more than Tanner has."

"Yeah, I'm sure all the girls would love that." Lauren rolls her eyes. "Did I tell you about yesterday, after school? Kari Geddes was all leaning up against him when I came in."

"Really?" My eyes widen. "And what was he doing?"

"Leaning away from her." She laughs. "You should've seen the look on his face."

"Well, yeah," I say, squirting hot sauce on my taco. "If he ever got caught with a student, he'd be in so much trouble. Remember Mrs. Alvarez?"

"Yeah, but I still wonder if Casey was making it all up. Mrs. Alvarez was sixty, with rheumatoid arthritis."

"True," I agree, licking the hot sauce off my fingers. "So, do you wanna come over after tutoring?"

"No, thanks," she declines. She takes a small bite of her burrito, then suddenly bursts out laughing. Covering her mouth, she mumbles, "I still can't believe you said 'eww!'"

Even now, I flush with embarrassment. "I was flustered. You know how I get when I'm flustered."

"It's totally something Fat Violet would have said."

"I miss her," I sigh. "She was fearless."

"She was. Why don't you take a pic of Zane so I can see what he looks like?"

"I don't think he likes having his picture taken," I say. "I asked him once why he doesn't have any pictures in his room, and he said something to that effect. You know, he's not vain at all. I never see him look in a mirror."

"Hm, sounds like someone else I know." Lauren balls up all her used napkins and sticks them on her plate. "We should go. We have ten minutes to be back on campus."

I didn't get to finish my tacos! But Lauren is already standing up, getting her things together. I take a giant bite and follow after her.

We get in the short line to pay our bill, and I don't notice Matt and Rachel are standing in front of us until I hear his familiar laugh.

Oh, great. I exchange eye rolls with Lauren. She quietly asks me if I want to wait outside, but I shake my head.

Oh, that’s nice—he's got his hand on her butt. He never put his hand on my butt in public. We barely held hands.

By the way, I’ve still got a mouthful of taco. Seeing my ex-boyfriend caress my ex-friend makes me want to puke. It makes me…I’m just so…

I’m not hurt, I realize. I’m irritated. When I think about Matt, I can’t help but compare him to Zane, and next to Zane, Matt is…nothing. Inconsequential. Faded gray, school lunch, immature boy. Zane is—he’s fireworks, bursts of color, exciting, dangerous, sexy, and he makes me want. What, I’m not quite sure. All I know is if he—

“Violet.”

Matt suddenly turns around, spotting me. His blue eyes widen as I start choking on taco meat.

Ow!

My eyes water as I gag helplessly. Matt reaches for me—maybe to perform the Heimlich—but I hold a hand up. Lauren hands me a napkin, and I snatch it and discreetly spit out half a masticated taco. Ugh.

Coughing hoarsely, I glare up at Matt like it’s his fault. I turn to Lauren and hand her money. “I’ll be waiting outside,” I mutter.

Rachel looks like she's actually going to say something to me. I give her a look, and she hastily turns back around. Just because I've decided Matt isn't worth crying over doesn't mean I'll forgive either of them for betraying me.

I don't forgive people. Just ask Shauna Bradley. We were best friends in kindergarten—until I discovered she was the one stealing the fruit snacks from my desk. She lost my trust that day, and even now when I see her, I have to refrain myself from shouting, "Why? Why did you do it?!"