Page 4 of Wallflower

"Oh…" I breathed. "How nice of them."

"Also, I do love art and books, but the van's not mine. It's my dad's," he laughed. "Honestly, I hate it and would've loved a Cadillac, my dream car. Mom's the one who still insists on cutting the crusts off my sandwiches, though I tell her not to. And I actually put a lot of effort into my hair and follow a strict regimen." He leaned in. "But I'm glad someone noticed. Thanks again."

A beat passed.

"And dogs are okay," he said. "But I'm more of a cat person."

I blinked, my heart frozen inside my chest.

"Hey." Ty frowned. "Are you alright?"

"Uh huh," I mumbled. "So…you're saying…I got a lot of stuff wrong about you?"

"Yeah, but there's still a lot to like."

"And…you're not moving?"

He shrugged. "Not till after graduation."

I nodded, but my head felt like it was filled with lead, the possible repercussions of this act of bravery suddenly slapping me in the face.

"Also"—Tyson ran a hand along the back of his neck—"I don't want to sound mean, but we don't really know each other. So…I don't feel the same way. But," he added, "again, I am flattered. It was nice, hearing all that."

"I have to go," I whispered, walking quickly away.

Tyson called out after me, but I just kept going, away from him, past Dare and Whitney, out to the senior parking lot, feeling their eyes on me the whole way.

It was a long walk.

CHAPTER 2

"And then he said he's not moving. Like not until graduation—at which point I started to feel faint. Luckily, I didn't faint because passing out would've only added to the embarrassment."

I shook my head.

"On second thought, I take it back. I don't think it could've gotten any worse."

A pause.

"No, you're right. Awkward is my middle name. It definitely could've been worse." I laughed to myself. "Plus, Ty was so darn nice about everything. Dare Frost was there, like I said. Ugh. And Whitney—you know the girl who used to be my best friend before we hit eighth grade? The one who suddenly got boobs, turned evil, became head Varsity cheerleader, and dumped me like a sack of potatoes? Well yeah, they were there the whole time. I just hope they didn't hear anything."

If they did, I'd have heck to pay. School was set to start back this Monday. I was already an outcast. I didn't need this hanging over my head. My confession had turned into a humiliation fest of epic proportions…

"But at least I didn't give him the letter," I said.

He obviously wasn't the one it was meant for. That was something at least.

Smiling, I said, "You know what, Hermione, you're a great listener."

A bark was my only reply.

"You want to get out of that cage and go outside?" Her tail was wagging before I even finished. "I think you deserve it for listening to all of my whining."

As I opened her cage, the big ball of fluff that was Hermione hurtled out of her cage and sat in front of me, waiting patiently while I attached her leash and gave her a scratch behind the ears. She was beautiful, a mix of brown and black brindle fur, smart eyes and a head full of crazy hair. She hadn't come with any papers. My boss had no idea about her parents, so mutt was as close as we could get to identifying breed. And I'd loved her right from the moment she'd come to the shelter two months ago. Despite her kind nature, she'd been here longer than most of the dogs, too long, and while I dreaded it, I kept hoping someone would adopt her and give her a great home.

After taking Hemione for a walk, I cleaned out some of the cages, re-filled water and food bowls, took a few more of the dogs out before saying goodbye to my boss and heading home. My work at the animal shelter was voluntary, but I knew it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I loved animals, particularly dogs. My family didn't have any pets of our own. Mom was allergic to cats, and Dad was always on the go with the team, so usually it was just me at home. That was okay, though, because I got to spend time with the animals at the shelter, who'd just been dealt a bad hand. They were the misfits, loners just like me, and it was the highlight of my day taking care of them.

When I got home, the skies were a gorgeous mix of twilight purple, pink, orange and blue. I went immediately to shower—there were cats at the shelter, so this was my normal routine. Mom's allergies would flair up at the smallest sign of cat dander, so most days I took two showers, one in the morning, one at night. No big deal. It was necessary, and besides, the water relaxed me. Standing under the warm spray, I imagined the embarrassment of the day washing right off my skin and going down the drain.

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