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  “Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you going to stop asking me that question anytime soon?”

  “Are you going to stop giving me cause to?”

  He sighed, exasperated once again. “So that I can get to know you, and so that we can hang out a little.”

  “You want to get to know me at a crowded party with people that, as a rule of high school hierarchy, don’t like me?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Really.” I eyed him. “So everyone isn’t going to look at me like they do when I’m here and say the exact same things they do while we’re here, right? Things are going to magically change because we’re not at school anymore?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You’re not stupid, Evan,” I said, my voice quiet. The door opened, and his head immediately snapped in that direction, and I clenched my jaw. “So stop thinking the best of your friends because different scenery won’t change the things they say to me or how they treat me.”

  He looked at me, shifting uncomfortably and fidgeting as Brittany walked into the classroom.

  “Hi, Ev!” Brittany squealed, prancing over to him and leaning against the edge of our lab table. “You know, I was thinking that maybe we should go out tonight.”

  She popped her gum, flipped her sleek blond hair over her shoulder, and giggled in a way that reminded me of an over-excited chipmunk. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, leaning an elbow on the table and resting my chin in my hand. I stared out the window, disappointed at how quickly I seemed to disappear from his radar.

  He didn’t want us to be seen talking, that much was obvious, but he wanted to get to know me somehow. This whole thing only solidified my thoughts about the orchid being a complete joke. I didn’t understand why he would invite me to a party to “get to know me” but couldn’t seem to bring himself to let the same people that were throwing the party see us talking at school.

  I listened to Brittany and Evan flirt with each other, my heart sinking further in my chest when I realized that no matter how many times I told myself that I didn’t like him anymore, I still did. I was as stupid as the rest of the girls in this high school, and there wasn’t a damn thing that I could do about it.

  I didn’t notice when my other classmates started piling into the room, barely listened when Mr. Streeter called us to attention, and definitely didn’t look at Evan the entire forty-five minutes that I had to be there. When the bell rang, I realized I had no idea what went on, and didn’t know what we had to do for homework. I mechanically got up from my stool and gathered my books. Staring straight ahead, I walked out of the classroom and into the hallway.

  At lunch I sat with Christina and Vince. I’d been sitting with them practically since kindergarten. They both had study hall first thing in the morning and had taken the option to have their parents write notes to get them out of it. We barely saw each other in the halls before lunch. They didn’t know about the orchid—at least, they didn’t mention anything to me if they did—and I wasn’t ready to tell them the whole story just yet. I needed more time to work it out on my own before I brought my friends into it.

  Plus, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary almost made me forget that the opposite was true.

  Dad was home when I got there, and I automatically made dinner for us. He wasn’t a very good cook and while he did try his best, it usually ended up with the smoke detector going off. I had learned the basics of cooking from watching my mom do it, and when she was gone, I had taken over the responsibility of cooking.

  We sat in silence as usual until I declared that I was done and went upstairs to start my homework. Around five thirty, the phone rang, and I ignored it until Dad called up the stairs that it was for me. I moved sluggishly down the stairs, offering him a small smile as I took the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Um, hi, Arianna.”

  I didn’t even have enough energy to slam the phone down, as I should have.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I, uh . . . are you all right? You just . . . you didn’t seem like yourself after—” He stopped.

  I stared hard at the floor. “How’d you get my number?” I finally asked.

  “I know how to use a phone book. Are you all right?”

  “Peachy.”

  “Did I do something?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “You were just . . . you don’t normally zone out like that is all. I just . . . Arianna, did I do something wrong?”

  “Listen, Evan.” I sighed. “Whatever you seem to want to pull off won’t work if you’re too embarrassed to be seen talking to me. I’m not a secret, and I refuse to be yours.”

  “You don’t understand my friends, Arianna.”

  “Anna,” I snapped.

  “What?”

  “I hate my full name, so stop it.”

  “Okay, well, Anna, you don’t know what my friends are like. They need to . . . they need a warning.”

  “Should I wear a bright orange jump suit? Better yet, put me in a cage and smack a sign on the outside that says Don’t Feed the Anna. Hell, God knows I’d lose weight then, wouldn’t I?”

  “I’ve never said anything about—”

  “You didn’t have to. No one ever has to.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “This is your choice, Evan. I was perfectly fine without talking to you.” The memories I have from when we were younger are better, anyway. “You wanted another chance, and I gave it to you. You’re not doing such a great job with it so far.”

  “I don’t know how to act with you. You’re not . . . you’re not like the rest of them, and I don’t know what the fuck I should do about it.”

  “Take me for what I am, Evan, or leave me alone.”

  “I can’t exactly do that though, can I? We have a project—”

  “That I told you I could easily get you out of,” I said, interrupting him and running a hand through my hair. “This is your choice, and I’m not doing anything to influence you.”

  He was quiet, and I thought that he’d hung up before I heard a muffled curse. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.

  “I can’t come over tonight,” he finally said.

  “I know. You have a date.”

  “Do you listen to everything?”

  “When she’s standing right there and has a voice like someone is slowly letting helium out of a balloon, it’s kind of hard to miss, Evan.”

  He grunted, and I opened my eyes and slid down the wall, wrapping my arm around my upraised knees.

  “I have practice tomorrow night until five again, so I’ll come over around quarter of. Is that okay?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Sure.”

  I could practically hear his teeth grinding, and I smiled to myself and played with the hem of my jeans.

  “Bye, Anna.”

  “Bye.”

  I carefully set the phone down and stared at it for a few moments, tapping my fingertips against my thighs.

  “Everything okay, Anna?” Dad yelled from the living room, his eyes no doubt focused on whatever documentary he was watching.

  “Everything’s fine, Dad.” I sighed and stood up, starting back up the stairs. “Everything’s just peachy.”

  I nearly screamed the next morning when I closed my locker door to find Evan standing behind it, his eyes darting nervously around the hallway while he shifted from one foot to the other. I raised my eyebrows and leaned against my locker as I stared at his profile and waited for him to actually look at me. After a few moments of him not looking in my direction, I obnoxiously cleared my throat and coughed to cover up the laugh when he jumped and almost dropped his books.

  “I’m here. I’m talking. Hi. Good morning.”

  “Did someone slip something into your cereal this morning?” I asked casually.

  “Wh
at? No. Why would you think that?”

  “Because you’re talking a mile a minute, and you’re not really saying anything. If it bothers you that much, then go.” I traced my tongue over my bottom teeth and stood up straight. “We both know that I’m not worth ruining your reputation.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I sighed, absently flipping my hair over my shoulder.

  “Put yourself down like that.”

  “Like you don’t do it.”

  He squared his shoulders and jutted out his chin. “I won’t anymore.”

  I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Until Brittany or Steve or Grace show up, right? Where the hell has Adam been, anyway? He hasn’t been around to tell me I’m taking up the whole width of the hallway lately.”

  His face fell and his shoulders sagged. “He says that to you?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged one shoulder and gripped the end of my long-sleeved shirt.

  “He won’t anymore,” he said again.

  “Right.” I snorted. “I started on the paper last night. Did a lot of research and found a lot of things that could help.” I looked up at him again. He didn’t really seem very interested in that topic just yet, so I wracked my brain for something else to say. “How was your date?”

  “It was fine, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “She’s just . . . a means to an end,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in front of me.

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah.”

  Awkward.

  “Ev! Man! What the fuck are you doing over here?”

  We both looked behind him to see Steve approaching, one of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. He reached us and slapped a hand on Evan’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at me before stepping in between us.

  “I was just . . . uh, we were . . . ,” Evan stuttered.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily, stepping out from behind Steve and clutching my books to my chest.

  “We were just talking about our project,” I said evenly.

  “Right. Well, listen man . . . the party is going to be awesome!” he exclaimed, excited to the point where his voice rose an octave or two.

  I started toward the classroom, mentally berating myself for thinking that he’d meant what he said.

  “Anna!”

  I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and slowly turned on my heel to see Evan walking away from Steve and toward me.

  It was as if time stood still. Everyone in the hallway stopped talking, stopped moving to turn and stare at Evan and then at me. I wanted to crawl into that hole I was waiting for and die because this could not truly be happening. He did not just walk away from Steve freaking Forrester to talk to me.

  I was still gaping at him as he walked up to me with his head down and his eyes darting around the hallway.

  “Are you feeling all right?” I asked.

  “Funny.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “No,” I said. “It was your choice, Evan. I never said that I wanted anything from you.”

  “You are infuriating.”

  “I’ve never asked you for anything. You wanted another chance.”

  “And you seem to want the fucking world on a platter.”

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying and failing to make sense of my jumbled thoughts.

  “Yes, Evan, I have everything we need for our project. Thank you and I’ll see you in class,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  I turned on my heel again and started toward the classroom, pushing through the door and walking over to the empty lab table. I set my books down and rested my cheek on them, staring out the window and placing my arms on the table.

  Evan didn’t come in until everyone else had already been seated. He had Brittany wrapped around him, and I did my best to ignore everything as I meticulously opened my textbook to the assigned pages written on the chalkboard. As he sat down, I began reading the drivel on the page and doing my best to look engrossed in the monotonous world of—hmm Polyatomic ions . . . Don’t remember anything about that.

  “You’re not making this very easy, you know,” he said.

  “This is who I am, Evan. Take it or leave it.”

  “You keep giving me that ultimatum. Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  “I don’t want to get hurt anymore.” I looked at him and clenched my jaw. “And that’s all you and your friends have done since middle school. I’m not sorry for making you work for something that I’m scared to give away to anyone.” I sat up a little straighter, placing my hands in my lap. “Take it or leave it.”

  He stared at me until Mr. Streeter called us to attention, and I looked away. I had a lot to catch up on since I’d been so out of it yesterday, and I couldn’t be concerned with Evan Drake staring holes into the side of my head.

  I looked down when Evan slid a piece of paper underneath my hand, and glanced over at him. He tilted his head before looking back to the front of the room, and I sighed as I unfolded the paper and pulled it into my lap.

  I’ll take it and raise you a

  secret that I guard with my life.

  I have to wear a retainer to bed because

  I sucked my thumb until I was thirteen.

  My eyes widened, and I looked at him, crumpling the paper in my fist. He slowly looked back at me, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

  “Seriously?” I mouthed, leaning forward.

  He nervously licked his lips. I looked to the front of the room again. I kept the paper crumpled in my fist as I ripped out an entire sheet of paper from my notebook.

  I won’t tell anyone.

  I folded it and slid it over to him, watching from the corner of my eye as he pulled it down into his lap and unfolded it. He grabbed his pen and awkwardly wrote on the note in his lap. He folded it back up and handed it to me underneath the table before looking up at the board and fidgeting with his pen.

  You had to use an entire sheet

  of paper for that? You’re killing

  trees that way, you know.

  I rolled my eyes, placed the paper on the table, and grabbed my pen.

  I just thought that you’d like to know.

  And I didn’t kill the damn tree.

  Someone else killed the thing

  and made paper out of it.

  You’re just as guilty!

  I slid it over to him and stuffed it underneath his textbook. Resting my elbow on the table, I leaned my chin into my hand and forced myself to keep the smile off my face. I looked over at him when he slid the paper back over to me, and he openly grinned at me.

  I use my notebooks for things

  like schoolwork, Anna.

  I do not use an entire sheet

  of paper for a tiny little declaration.

  Huffing, I stared at his handwriting and pursed my lips.

  I’m sure you’ve never had letters

  written to you, then, right?

  Brittany hasn’t tried to

  compare you to a flower or anything?

  Although, I’m not sure how

  that would work seeing as how

  she can barely pass gym class.

  He laughed aloud as I slowly leaned away from him. Mr. Streeter fell silent, and I internally winced. Oh, this wouldn’t be good.

  “Is there something funny about this, Mr. Drake?” Mr. Streeter asked dryly, turning to look at Evan while holding a piece of chalk in his hand.

  “Oh, well, you know . . . no?” he said, shrugging and laughing sheepishly. “I just . . . um . . . I was just thinking about something.”

  “Uh huh,” the teacher said. “Think about human physiology, please.”

  “Right. Of course. Sure.”

  Mr. Streeter turned back to his chalkboard, and I relaxed a little and looked over at Evan. He was scribbling furiously, and I briefly wondered if that was a deal breaker. I took
the folded paper from him, swallowing hard as I pulled it into my lap and unfolded it.

  That was mean.

  But completely true.

  We ended our note with a confirmation that he was still coming over after practice, and I slipped the paper into the back of my notebook. Smiling to myself, I looked up at the board and listened to the rest of the lecture, feeling pretty good about what the rest of the day might bring.

  I was late, getting back from my run and found Evan leaning against his car in the driveway. Looking down at my outfit, I groaned and stopped in front of him. I pulled my ear buds out and grabbed my iPod from my pocket.

  “You run,” he said.

  “Yes.” I turned off my iPod and wrapped the cord around it.

  “I didn’t know that.” He pushed off his car.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Evan,” I said a little breathless as I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.

  “Like what?” he asked, following me as I walked up to the front door, pulling the key from my pocket and pushing it open wide enough so we could both get through.

  “Like I’m a pretty damn good cook,” I said and grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the refrigerator as I set my keys and iPod by the door.

  “And?”

  And? What more did he want to know? What did it matter to him?

  “And I’ve been riding a dirt bike since I was old enough to ride a regular bike.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  I smirked to myself and took a drink of my tea as I stared at the white door of the refrigerator. The one thing my father and I had always bonded over was dirt bikes and motocross. My mother had absolutely hated the whole idea, and whenever I mentioned wanting to compete, she quickly did her best to lay a guilt trip on me. It always worked.

  I hadn’t had the heart to do it since she’d died. It wasn’t the same when my mother wasn’t there to tell me how much she didn’t want me to do it.