Page 24 of The Big Easy & Other Lies
“Is that why you wanted to leave?”
“Rhett Hawker, Boy Detective,” I said, and I heard the bite in my tone. I was only angry with myself for ignoring my instincts and inviting him to lunch.
“Whoa. Are you mad at me because people were staring at me?”
“I’m not mad. I’m just not cool with people staring atme.” I hated all the speculation.Cam Landry? Why her? Doesn’t he know?
We’d pulled into the student parking lot, and as soon as he cut the engine, I hopped out of the car. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, before shutting the door and bolting for my locker. I had my physics book out when I heard him say, “Hey,” over my shoulder and I dropped it, barely missing my toe. Rhett leaned down to grab it for me.
“Thanks,” I said and turned to leave.
“Are you okay?” he asked again, sounding confused.
I pushed my free hand through my hair, shoving my long bangs to one side. “I’m fine. Look, my schedule is kind of bananas,” I said. “You seem like a nice guy. It should be easy to hook up with some kids who can show you around and stuff. Ask Angelique. She’ll take care of you.”
“Her schedule is bananas too,” he said. “And I don’t want her to show me around. I want you to.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
I stared at him. “Why? I’ve been acting like a total psycho for the last half hour.”
“Why?” Rhett repeated slowly, like he didn’t understand the word. He reached out and grazed the patch on my repurposed army fatigue shirt, the one I wore over my tank top to stay in compliance with the LaSalle dress code. I had sewn tucks into the front so it had a fitted, feminine feel. I liked the play of hard and soft. The patch he touched looked paramilitary with an eagle holding two crossed arrows, but the words “Hipsters make me cry” ran around the border. A tear even glinted in the eagle’s eye.
“Because of this,” he said, dropping his hand.
I stared down in disbelief. “You want me to show you around because of my shirt patch?”
“It’s more because of your bracelet yesterday.”
I thought back to which one I had thrown on for the party. The “Faker” one. “You saw that?”
“Yeah.” He stepped back. His glance fell to the eagle again then met my eyes. “I thought you were kinda hot and wicked funny when you came in with the puff thingies the first time.” His ears reddened. “But then I saw the bracelet the second time you came back, and I decided you might also be cool. Like subversive, or whatever. So that plus kinda hot then turns into super hot, and I guess now I made a jerk of myself. Sorry.”
He offered me a stiff head nod and headed down the hall. I didn’t run after him. I would see him in sixth period, and I needed to think. I had a feeling I would be zoning out on Dr. Bickham’s physics lecture in favor of replaying this conversation again and again.
And again.
Chapter 10
My lagniappe. Rhett had spotted it twice without even trying. He saw something that kids in three years of school with me had never noticed.
He sawme.
It was like when someone blew lightly on the back of your neck and you didn’t know they were standing there. It wasn’t scary, exactly. But it was weird to think they could have invaded your space without you realizing it.
Rhett was in my space. My cameos and patches and bracelets would be a neon sign for him now, pointing out my moods and philosophies at a glance.
I should hate that. But...
I didn’t.
Yes, it felt strange not to be part of the beige paint on LaSalle’s walls to him, but it was hard to be mad at someone who said your subversiveness plus your face equals hot.
When the bell rang, I hopped up to get a head start toward the theater. I didn’t know exactly what to say to Rhett, but I thought maybe I would open with, “I’m sorry.”
He wasn’t in the theater. When the warning bell rang, there was still no Rhett. Maybe he didn’t know how to find it? Mr. Gervis, the drama teacher, hated paperwork, so he never wrote tardies. Instead, he made latecomers take the stage and do a monologue that he literally pulled from a hat.
The final bell rang with no Rhett. I slid down in my chair. He’d probably walked away from my locker and straight to the office to change his schedule because of my awkwardness.
Halfway through attendance, Rhett rolled in and ambled to the front where Mr. Gervis stopped his roll call to look over his glasses at the schedule Rhett handed him. “Welcome, Mr. Hawker. And you’re late. You’ll get an early initiation into our performance master class by choosing and delivering one of these monologues.” He handed Rhett the hat.
