Page 23 of The Tattered Gloves
Okay, so she said a few words.
I continued working at Page Turners, nearly sprinting the entire way there after school in hopes of one day beating Sam, but I had no luck. He beat me every time.
Although I wasn’t about to admit this to him out loud, I was starting to wonder if I really had misjudged him from the very start. He was a bit arrogant, always had a comeback, and rarely seemed to actually work, but more than that, he was kind.
Or at least I thought he was.
I’d made it a habit to arrive at school early. The hallways were less crowded, and it gave me time to visit my locker and slip into class way before the bell rang.
My English teacher wasn’t much for punctuality, something well known around the school. He’d show up mere minutes before the bell, wiping sweat from his brow as he collapsed into his rickety chair, carrying a huge travel mug of coffee.
His distaste for mornings served me well since the empty classroom gave me a sort of sanctuary to hide in while the hallways filled with noise and commotion. I’d doodle on my notebook, listening to the gossip and chatter just outside the door, thankful I was away from it all.
Today, however, as I made my way to the empty classroom, I was intercepted.
“Willow!” a cheerful voice called to me from across the hall.
I turned to see Allison, dressed in a colorful top and stylish jeans, jogging toward me, her megawatt smile in place. This wasn’t the first time she’d tracked me down, demanding we sit next to each other in our shared classes and walk together between classes.
“How are you?” She beamed, slightly breathless, as she stopped in front of me.
“Good. I’m good.” I stumbled over every word.
If she noticed my awkwardness, she didn’t show it. Instead, she simply continued on, reminding me about homecoming and the dance that would follow.
“It’s going to be so much fun. You must go.”
“It’s not really my type of thing.”
“Have you ever been to a dance?” she asked, her hand gently resting on her hip.
I shook my head.
“Then, how do you know?” she asked. “Besides, you don’t have to bring a date. Lots of people just go in a big group. If you wanted to, you could come to my house and get ready before. I’d be happy to help.”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” I answered, feeling completely out of my element.
Why did she care so much?
Was she working toward some sort of kindness badge for Girl Scouts, and I was her newfound charity case?
I just couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t leave me alone, like everyone else.
“Okay, but I’m holding you to it this time. You also said you’d think about eating lunch with me last week, and I haven’t seen you in the cafeteria once!”
I purposely averted my gaze.
I’d been spending most of my lunches as far away from everyone else as I could. Since upperclassmen had roaming privileges around campus during lunch, it wasn’t that hard. Sometimes, I would eat outside on the grass or in an empty hallway.
Thankfully, I hadn’t had to resort to eating in the restroom yet.
That would be unfortunate.
And gross.
“I’ve been busy,” I said lamely.
Her vibrant blue eyes dulled slightly. “Look, if you don’t want to be my friend, I understand. I just wanted you to feel welcome here.”
