Текст книги "Every Wrong Reason"

Автор книги: Rachel Higginson

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Three

10. He misses the dog.

I threw my keys down on the counter and looked at the leftover dishes from last night. I should have done them after dinner, but I couldn’t find the energy. At the time, I told myself it was a reward for not picking up fast food on the way home from work again, but now I recognized my laziness for what it was.

It was funny how living by myself spotlighted all of these faults I hadn’t noticed before. When Nick lived here, I always cleaned up after dinner. He hadn’t asked me to or expected it, but I had always felt the drive to please him.

Okay, maybe not in every way. But he did things for me. He took out the trash without being asked. He changed lightbulbs when they burned out. He walked the dog when it rained. The dishes were part of my portion of housekeeping and whatever else you could say about me or about how I treated Nick, at least I kept that part of our bargain.

For better or worse, in sickness and in health, you mow the yard and I’ll scrub the pans.

Now my vows were as empty and meaningless as my chores. What was the point of cleaning up if there was no one here to appreciate my effort?

I wanted gold stars and verbal affirmation.

The dog gave me neither of those things.

My feet ached and my head buzzed with the chaos of the day. I yawned so long and wide I half expected my jaw to unhinge.

I stood at the counter listening to the house. The ice machine kicked on and the refrigerator started buzzing. I could hear the hallway clock ticking its rhythmic tocks as it kept time. The most beautiful dog in the entire world plopped on the ground at my feet and let out a long puppy sigh.

I could see it in her big brown eyes. Finally, you’re home, woman. Now pay me attention and fetch my chewie.

To be honest, she really wasn’t the most beautiful dog in the world, but she was really close. And she was beyond spoiled, making her intolerably high maintenance and prissy. But she was mine. I loved her as much as I loved any human.

She was a petite beagle with big floppy ears that perked up when she was interested in something and huge chocolate eyes that conveyed more emotion than I thought a dog should be capable of. Her shiny coat was a mixture of caramel and white and was nice and silky because Nick insisted on the expensive dog food and weekly baths.

I named her Anne after my favorite teacher, Anne Shirley, from the Anne of Avonlea books. But Nick had started calling her Annie from the very beginning and the nickname stuck. She was my Annie-girl and when all other people failed me, she was my rock.

I swept down and rubbed her ears with my two hands. Immediately the stress of the day started to melt from my shoulders and the dishes, the bills left discarded on the table and my looming divorce didn’t feel so impossible anymore.

“What did you do all day?” I asked her with a soft voice. “Did you miss me?”

A deep, masculine voice came out of her, answering my question, “I doubt that. She was too busy eating my socks.”

I let out an ear-splitting scream and fell backward on my butt. After a few seconds of blind panic in which I contemplated the distance to my nearest butcher knife, sanity returned. I eventually recognized the voice and that it hadn’t come from my dog.

It had come from my husband. My soon to be ex-husband.

I hadn’t seen him in four months and now he was here. I had to brace myself before I could look at him.

“Nick! God!” My hand landed on my chest and I pushed down, trying to slow my racing heart. “You scared the hell out of me!”

He leaned over the white-tiled island and stared at me with listless eyes. “I thought you heard me come in.”

I pressed my lips together and tried to ignore the pang of pain that hit me low in the gut. His eyes used to be his most expressive feature. They could glisten with humor or darken with lust in the span of three seconds. They were what had pulled me so deeply into him so quickly. All he had to do was look at me and I had been his.

Until now. Now they stared at me as if I were the most uninteresting thing on the planet. They didn’t light up when I walked into the room. They didn’t dance with some sarcastic thought spinning around in his sharp mind. They didn’t heat with desire or harden with frustration.

They just barely glanced at me, shuttered and apathetic.

“I didn’t,” I snapped. My heart hadn’t found its normal beat yet and my voice sounded frustratingly breathless.

He moved around the island and held out his hand to me. I reluctantly took it and tried to be civil.

We had promised each other a peaceful divorce. This was something we both wanted. We had no reason to be anything but nice to each other.

Once I was standing, he looked me over again but refrained from speaking his opinion. I tried to swallow back my annoyance. After living with him for seven years and hearing every little insignificant thought that came out of his mouth, it bothered me that he had suddenly learned restraint.

What did he think about my outfit? Did he notice I’d lost weight? Could he see the dark bags beneath my eyes?

Did he think I was losing sleep because of him?

Habits, I reminded myself. These were just familiar patterns from our marriage. I was used to being able to ask him his thoughts, which he always gave freely.

Now we acted like strangers, even though we knew each other more intimately than I knew any other person.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked when it didn’t seem he wanted to explain his presence.

“I didn’t think you were going to be here.”

His casual words lit a fire inside of me that I couldn’t ignore. My polite words tasted bitter and acrid in my mouth. “Teacher’s meeting was canceled tonight. Mr. Kellar had a family emergency.”

“Is everything alright?” Finally, some kind of sympathy flared in his blue eyes, but it wasn’t meant for me.

My principal got his compassion, but not his wife.

“His eight-year-old broke his leg. It’s nothing serious.” My words came out clipped and short. Nick noticed immediately. His gaze sharpened and his lips parted as if to defend himself.

I braced myself for fighting words, the ones that would spiral us into a never-ending argument. He would set me off and I would retaliate with something blade-sharp and cutting. He would return by nagging me to death until I explained every last one of my emotions, at which point I would shut down and the barrier around my heart would thicken and expand.

Sometime in the last seven years, I had started to pay attention to our fights. We fought in phases, each argument trying to outdo the last. What was worse was that we had developed this toxic cycle that could not be broken.

“Huh,” was Nick’s intelligent reply.

“So why are you here?”

His gaze drifted to the dog. “I need to grab a few things of mine.”

Righteous anger spread from the fire in my belly, snaking through my veins and reaching my fingertips and toes. “You should have called me first. You can’t just walk in here unannounced. This isn’t your house anymore.”

Nick took an aggressive step forward. “This isn’t my house? Are you kidding me? This is our house. As far as I know, my name is still on the mortgage. I can come and go as I please.”

“I’m a single female, living alone. Don’t you think I deserve privacy? I thought you were a murderer!”

“You’re a single female, huh? Just like that? I’m gone for a couple months and suddenly you’re living the high life?”

“That’s not at all what I meant! And you know it!” I took another step forward and swallowed down the bitterness that bubbled up my throat. I wanted to claw at my itchy skin and burst into hysterical tears. How did we get like this?

Why couldn’t we have just one decent conversation?

Nick’s face heated with his matching anger. “I don’t know what you mean, Kate. I’m starting to wonder if I ever knew what you meant. You kicked me out.”

“Oh, that’s nice. That’s really lovely.” I spun around and threw my hands out. “I love how I’m the bad guy in this thing. How it’s all my fault.” I turned back to face him and let my words punctuate the air with every ounce of resentment and exhaustion I felt. “We came to this decision together, Nick. Don’t you dare put the blame on me.  I’ve been the villain for seven goddamn years, but I refuse to this time. We did this together.”

He rocked back on his heels and his shoulders deflated like the anger had leaked from his body. He was a puffed-up balloon with a quarter-sized hole. But he wasn’t any less worked up. This was the quiet rage that cut deeper, sliced in jagged, unhealable ways.

“Sure, Kate. We both wanted this.” His voice pitched low and firm when he launched his final assault. “At least it’s what we both want now. You’re not the only one that’s been living in freedom lately. God, it feels good to get out from under…” I waited for the end of his sentence, knowing it would be about me, knowing it would be the agonizing reminder of what a terrible wife I was. But he shocked me when he finished with, “this roof.”

It wasn’t any less hurtful, but it didn’t pack quite the punch I had been expecting.

My surprise quelled some of my fury and I found myself able to reply to him without goading him further. I ran my hands over my face and in a deflated voice, I asked, “What are you really doing here, Nick? I know you didn’t stop by to fight with me.”

He jerked his chin to the side so he didn’t have to look at me. “I didn’t think you were going to be here.”

“Nick, god. Just come clean already.” A wave of violent exhaustion knocked into me and I teetered backward. He did this to me. He wore me out completely. And he didn’t even notice. He wouldn’t even look at me anymore.

And somehow that was worse. Somehow I could take his harsh words and cruel accusations, but it was his neglect that pierced the hardest.

“I missed Annie,” he mumbled.

I knew I misheard him. He hated the dog. He complained about her daily. “What?”

He lifted his chin as if he was prepared to defend his words and the damn dog to the grave. “I missed Annie, okay? I just wanted… needed to make sure she was okay.”

A weird mixture of sorrow and affection twisted through me. I didn’t know whether to scream at him or hug him. Confused and tired, I turned away from him and faced the sink. I needed to do something. I needed to use my hands and think about anything else but my husband and the dog.

“I thought you hated her,” I accused weakly, my voice broken with hurt feelings and bewilderment.

His voice was lower to the ground when he responded. He’d bent over and started petting her in his rough, affectionate way. “I thought I did too.”

A lump so big and intrusive clogged my throat that I had to gasp for air. I didn’t bother to swipe at the tears leaking from my eyes. I didn’t want to draw attention to them.

So while Nick petted the dog he had avoided, complained about and glared at for three years, I focused on scrubbing the dishes I left out last night. The water burned my hands, turning my skin bright red, but I welcomed the heat and the pain. I needed to focus on something else. I needed to redirect my mind from whatever dangerous place it wanted to go.

Nick murmured sweet things to Annie and I forbid my body to turn around. Listening to his familiar voice, with his low, gravelly baritone did funny things to my resolve. I started questioning everything I’d decided about him. I wanted to reconsider my decisions and accusations.

I wanted to fall on my knees next to him and beg for his forgiveness.

Which was so silly. So completely ridiculous.

If anything, his surprise visit should hammer down the point. We weren’t right for each other. We couldn’t even be in the same room together without wanting to strangle each other.

We might be good people separately, but we were monsters together.

I was doing the right thing. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to live a life without screaming and name-calling.

I wanted to breathe again.

“Have you taken her for a walk yet?” His question was asked with a soft pleading that I couldn’t ignore, no matter how much the bitter part of me wanted to punish and torture him.

I shook my head, unable to speak the words that clawed at my throat. I kept my chin tucked to my chest so that my dark hair would fall in front of my face and cover the tears streaking my cheeks.

His voice grated when he asked, “Do you mind if… do you mind if I take her?”

I hoped he didn’t notice my quiet sobbing. I couldn’t stand the idea that he saw how weak I was acting. But the longer I thought about it, I decided the obvious emotion in his voice probably came from asking me permission.

Nick was nothing if not proud.

Instead of using this moment against him, I surprised myself by shrugging one shoulder and whispering in a thick voice, “Go ahead. She would love it.”

He stood there silently for a long minute. I felt his eyes sear into my back. I sucked in slow breaths and tried not to fidget. The only sound in the kitchen was the sound of Annie’s paws dancing on the tile and the splash of water as I worked on the dishes.

Finally, after endless moments, he asked, “Is her leash in the same spot?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, girl,” he called in a friendly voice. “Let’s go for a walk. Want to go for a walk?”

Annie pranced excitedly, her toenails clicking faster and faster. She let out an excited yelp and followed Nick into the hallway where the leash hung on the wall.

He fastened it quickly to her collar and they left out the front door.

“Traitor,” I hissed when they were gone.

The new silence hit me harder than anything else. I had been living alone for a while, but I always had Annie with me. She was always here to greet me at the kitchen door when I got home from work or curl up with me on the couch.

Logically, I knew she was only going to be gone for a half hour or so. I knew Nick would bring her back to me safe and sound.

But the house felt immensely lonely now. It fell down on my shoulders with a crushing weight. My chest deflated and my lungs gave out.

I fell to my knees in a heap of loud sobbing and uncontrollable tears. My wet hands splashed water all over my work clothes, but I couldn’t find the energy to care. I was too wrapped up in my own pain, too lost in the heartbreak inside my chest.

Unexpected grief crashed over me and I gasped for breath, stretched for the effort to continue living through this agony.

Why did it hurt so much? If this was what we both wanted, why did it feel like death instead of life?

I had loved this man once. I had loved him more than anything else in life. And now we treated each other like enemies. I hurt him every time I saw him. And I did it on purpose.

I was a good, decent person. I believed in my career. I wanted to change lives and give the kids I worked with a future they might not have otherwise. And yet, when I was with my husband, I turned into a vicious, crazed harpy that couldn’t listen to reason or rationalize logically. Every nice, kind thing inside of me jumped out the window and I started flinging insults meant to wound, to harm permanently… to kill whatever good, decent person was left in him.

I hated who I was with Nick.

And I had to be honest with myself and admit that it wasn’t Nick that made me this way. There was something ugly inside of me… something monstrous and vengeful.

I didn’t want to keep talking to him like this; I didn’t want to keep hurting him. What was even the point anymore? We were over. We were separated. The least I could do, after years and years and years of this, was treat him like a human being worthy of respect.

We weren’t going to be man and wife anymore, but that didn’t make us enemies.

Just because we didn’t love each other, didn’t mean our only option was to hate each other instead.

I grabbed the kitchen towel hanging from the cabinet next to my head and used it to dry my tears and my hands. I sat there while I tried to piece the shattered fragments of myself back together.

It wasn’t easy and I wasn’t entirely successful. But I managed to resolve something inside of me, something lasting and intentional. I didn’t have to treat Nick badly to make myself feel better.

This was hard on both of us. And it didn’t look like it would be getting any easier.

But if I could weather this storm, if I could walk this journey without inflicting any more lasting wounds, there might be healing at the end for me too.

I wanted this divorce because I was sick and tired of being miserable, of wishing I could be happy, of wanting a better life. On the floor of my kitchen, all alone and feeling my worst, I realized I didn’t have to wait for Nick to go away before I could grab those things and make them realities in my life.

I didn’t have to wait for the papers to be signed before I could stop being miserable… until I had a better life.

Those were things I had the power to change.

And I would change them. Starting now.

The front door opened and I jumped to my feet. I slammed the faucet down, so the water would stop running and give away my breakdown.

I threw the towel on the counter and wiped at my face one more time with my fingertips before moving quickly to meet Nick in the entryway. He unhooked the leash from Annie’s collar and patted her on the head before standing up to his full, impressive height.

I knew by the way he looked at me that he could tell I’d been crying. Biting, defensive words immediately landed on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back, even if it cut into my pride.

“Thanks,” I offered humbly. “I wasn’t really up for walking her today.”

His expression changed again. Storm clouds rolled in those starkly blue eyes of his and his face darkened with something I couldn’t name. He rubbed his palm over the short scruff along his jaw, “Anytime.”

“You too.” The words surprised me as much as him. “I mean, if you want to walk her, just, maybe call first?”

He nodded. “I can do that.”

We stared at each other awkwardly, shifting on our feet as the silence dragged out and neither of us could think of something to say. I didn’t know if we’d somehow managed to reach a truce or if this was only a temporary treaty, but Nick seemed as tired of fighting as I did.

His gaze locked with mine, accidentally at first, but as he held it, I realized he was saying something to me in his silence. I couldn’t read him, though. Either I’d forgotten how in the few months we’d been apart or maybe I never could to begin with.

Finally he said, “Well, I should go.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him goodbye. It didn’t make any sense. But nothing I did made sense these days. He took my silence as a dismissal and left without another glance my way.

I was alone again, even if Annie was here this time. And even though we’d shared some hospitable moments, even though I’d managed to hold my tongue and not hurt him more, I felt more shredded than ever before.

Every time he left, I shattered apart.

Chapter Four

11. He doesn’t understand me.

A week and a half had gone by since Nick stopped by to see Annie. For a couple days, I had anticipated his phone call. I’d caught myself glancing at my cell phone obnoxiously often or waiting to walk Annie just in case Nick stopped by and wanted to do it himself.

I couldn’t explain my behavior.

This man didn’t get to have access to my heart after everything we’d been through.

After everything we were going to go through.

When I realized what I was doing, how often I checked my cell and how far my heart sank each day he didn’t call, I had temporarily contemplated checking myself into rehab.

Did they have rehab for bad relationships?

Was there an AA meeting for being addicted to the wrong men?

There should be.

“Ms. C, I need to go to the bathroom.”

I whirled around from my position at the whiteboard, my marker held aloft. “You’ve already been, Jay. Twice.”

Jay Allen’s eyes narrowed and his lips curled with a knowing smirk. This was the second class I’d had with Jay. The first time I’d had him in class was two years ago as a freshman. He had been difficult to handle then, but nothing compared to the swagger he carried in his junior year.

He ran a hand over his shaved head and his eyes glinted with the promise of torture. “Bad Taco Bell.” His large hand dropped to his stomach where he rubbed it dramatically. “I’ve got the shits.”

I swallowed down pure, raw frustration as the rest of the class laughed and threw crass insults at him. This was what he did. Although it was very possible Taco Bell did give him the shits– we’d all been there. But this was his regular MO. He wanted to rile up my classroom until it was complete chaos.

He didn’t like me and I barely tolerated him. He had been a nuisance two years ago, but this year he had declared war on the first day when I asked him to be quiet and he had asked me if I was on my period. In front of the entire class.

His exact words were, “Damn, Teach, you on the rag? Why you so worked up? We just chillin’.”

I had made him write “Excuse me, Mrs. Carter, are you feeling okay? You seem upset. I’m sorry for interrupting you,” five hundred times as a graded essay.

He’d given me hell ever since.

“Fine, Mr. Allen, go to the restroom and take care of your… bowel issues.” The class broke into hysterics again.

Jay flashed me a wide, toothy smile. He jumped from his seat and sauntered through the narrow aisles. He dropped two fingers on the edge of Keira Williams’s desk and tapped twice. Keira sank down in her chair, a silly grin on her face.

I watched her while Jay grabbed the bathroom pass and left the room with as much noise and commotion as he was capable of. Keira glanced at the door, that happy smile still on her face.

She turned back to me and tentatively raised her hand.

Apparently, these kids thought I was an idiot.

“Yes, Keira?”

“I need to go to the bathroom too,” she said shyly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and give her a lecture on how love isn’t real; it’s only something our imaginations make up to make our libido feel better about itself in the morning.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think the school board would appreciate that particular truth bomb.

“Let me guess, you had Taco Bell for lunch too?” I immediately regretted the snide tone to my voice when Keira’s eyes went huge with embarrassment and she tried to melt into her chair.

I realized too late that even though her horny teenage hormones had no place at school, it wasn’t my responsibility to warn her off men. I was only responsible until graduation.

“No,” she answered quickly.

Damn high school girls and their low self-esteems. “I’m sorry, Keira,” I told her with real remorse. “But you’ll have to wait until Jay comes back.”

She looked at the door longingly and I watched disappointment pull her features.

Had she really thought I’d let her leave for a mid-period hookup in the bathroom? I looked back at the whiteboard and contemplated giving up my lecture on dangling participles and replacing it with one on self-respect.

A skeezy tryst in the old boy’s locker room wasn’t going to do anything but give her athlete’s foot and a reason to feel shame.

I hated that she wanted that for herself. I hated that Jay expected it from her.

Jay eventually came back looking impatient and aggravated. He shot Keira a look that I did not miss. She shrugged apologetically, but there was nothing she could do. The teacher had spoken.

The rest of class went by without incident, but I could feel Jay’s angered glare as the minutes ticked by. As frustrated as I felt with him, his simmering anger got under my skin.

Fear fluttered in my chest and coiled in my stomach. This kid might be thirteen years younger than me, but he was bigger, taller, and he had more muscle than I could ever dream of.

I rationalized that he would retaliate in a way that drove me crazy, but wouldn’t physically harm me. He wasn’t stupid. He was too smart for his own good.

But rationalizing didn’t help.

I breathed out slowly when the bell finally rang. Loud laughter and chatter filled up the once quiet space but faded as the students filtered into the hall.

Jay lingered behind. I could see Keira waiting for him in the hallway, but he wasn’t in a hurry to catch up to her.

“You’re ruining my game, Ms. C.”

“You’re ruining my class, Mr. Allen.” I tilted my chin in a display of confidence I did not feel.

His deep brown eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were this kind of teacher.”

I leaned forward, emboldened by righteous anger. “And I didn’t think you were that kind of an asshole, Jay. During class? Really? Have some respect for her.”

He cocked his head back, shocked at my candidness. A slow grin pulled at his lips and my mouth went dry. Was he going to tell on me? Turn me into Mr. Kellar? I could get in a lot of trouble for speaking to a student like that.

“When she asks for it, I’ll give it to her,” he chuckled, the innuendo screaming through his words.

He turned away from me and strutted toward the door. I couldn’t help but call after him, “Be better than that!”

He waved at me without turning back around, “Sure thing, Ms. C.”

The door slammed shut behind him and I resisted the urge to puke. I placed my hands on my desk and leaned heavily on them. I dropped my head and focused on breathing. Holy shit.

Jay Allen wasn’t the first difficult student I’d had. I’d called the cops more than once and I had been threatened at least once a semester since I started here.

The ego these boys carried around with them was incredible. They thought they owned the world and worse than that, they thought they deserved the world. They didn’t appreciate a teacher that expected them to work hard and try at something other than sports or hitting on girls.

Sometimes the girls were even worse.

Entitled.

Cocky.

Neglected.

Underprivileged.

Apathetic.

These kids were a dangerous mixture of abandon and overpromise. I had to skate the fine line between realistic expectations and stern discipline.

Not one of them respected me for it.

A knock at my door and a deep voice pulled me from the turmoil of my thoughts. “Kate, are you okay?”

I looked up to find Eli Cohen standing in my doorway with a concerned expression on his face. His dark eyes swept over me, taking stock of everything that could be wrong.

“Rough day,” I squeaked out. Fear still pounded in my chest and I wondered if I should go to Kellar. Nothing happened. Jay hadn’t even threatened me. But years of experience taught me that I should trust my gut instinct.

“Your ex-husband?” Eli guessed.

I winced, unprepared for his question. A cynical smile tilted my lips and I stared at my shoes when I answered, “No, not Nick. I, uh, I had an altercation with a student.”

Eli crossed the threshold and stood before me in three seconds. His large hands landed on my biceps, squeezing them compassionately.

I jumped at his touch. When was the last time a man had touched me? Even Nick?

Not for a very long time.

Eli’s closeness immediately felt wrong. I had the strongest urge to smile politely and wiggle away from him. But I realized those were silly thoughts. I wasn’t betraying Nick.

There was nothing left to betray.

“I’m so sorry,” Eli apologized. “I shouldn’t have assumed… I’m so sorry. Really. That was really stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” I promised him. In the end, I did shrug off his hands. They were too awkward and my head wasn’t right. Plus, I started to worry about someone walking into the room and getting the wrong idea. “It could easily have been my divorce. It’s been a weird few months.”

Eli’s concerned frown made me feel a little better. “I’m a jackass.”

Surprised laughter bubbled out of me. “You’re not.”

“I am. What idiot walks in on a distraught woman and immediately brings up her divorce?”

My smile was soft and endearing. “It’s really okay.”

He gave me a sardonic look and shook his head. “I got divorced three years ago. I should know better.”

His comment took my breath. I had never thought much about people in the midst of divorce before my own. I didn’t even know that many that had gone through one. They seemed to be only stories my mother told me over Sunday dinners. So-and-sos are getting divorced. I knew they wouldn’t last. He was always lazy. She could never settle down.

I never thought it would be me. I never thought I would be the restless girl or that Nick would be the deadbeat husband. Because according to my mother only worthless people got divorced.

“I’m so sorry,” I told him quickly. This time it was me that put my hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know.”

His deep chocolate eyes found mine and held them. “It was before I came here.”

“How long were you married?” My curiosity couldn’t be helped. Eli was gorgeous and an excellent teacher. He was a total catch. I couldn’t imagine a woman not wanting to stay with him.

But I had once thought that about Nick too.

“Ten years,” he answered with the slightest catch in his voice. “We were high school sweethearts.”

We were quiet for a while as I heard all of the words he didn’t say. The feelings that he didn’t admit.

“Nick and I met in college,” I admitted softly.

He turned around and sat down on the edge of my desk. His hands landed next to his hips and he leaned forward attentively.

I realized how strange it was to have this man’s undivided attention. Nick didn’t listen to me unless we were in the middle of an argument.

I couldn’t count how many stories I’d told him only to have him lift his head and look at me like a lost puppy. “Huh?” he’d say. “Did you say something?”

I swallowed down the hurt of that memory and allowed myself to enjoy Eli’s focus. I licked my dry lips and spoke beyond the fresh lump in my throat. “I thought we were perfect for each other.”

“There’s no such thing as perfect,” Eli commiserated.

I groaned, “I know that now.”

Eli stared at his scuffed brown loafers, so I took the opportunity to study the lines and planes of his face. His jaw was clean-shaven and smooth and his nose had small indents where his glasses rested. They were tucked into his pocket now, the end of one side poking out in the most adorable way.

He had great hair, great shoulders and great hands. He was so purely male that I knew half the female population of Hamilton High was deeply in love with him already and it was only September.