Page 15 of Heart Check
Deep breaths.You got this, Harper.
I swing past Lindsey on my way to table six, and she holds her hand out for a fist bump. “Thank God you’re here tonight,” she says, grabbing the menus I hand her and blowing her bangs out of her face with a relieved puff of air. “We’d be drowning without you. Luke’s an idiot.”
“He sure is,” I shoot back without thinking. Then: “Wait, what?” I squint at her. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Lindsey rolls her eyes. “He was on some trip about how you aren’t trustworthy? Tried to talk to my parents about firing you. Don’t worry, they weren’t having it. We all know you’re indispensable.”
My mouth falls open.
That fucking puck fucking—
“I’m going to take my break,” I say through a tight, polite smile.
Lindsey opens her mouth as if to protest—and yeah, it’s not ideal timing, so sue me—but I’m already headed into the back.
“You tried to get mefired?”
My voice comes out louder than I intend, and the cooks exchange wide-eyed glances.
Dawson freezes in front of his vat of pasta salad, looking around desperately. “Can we do this somewhere else?”
He grabs my elbow and tugs me around the corner, evading the curious eyes of the cooks, until we’re tucked away in the alcove leading to the walk-in. His hand burns against my skin, and by the time I yank my arm away, his fingerprints have already left their searing mark. There’s not much space here, between the crates of pop and broken-down boxes. I hold my breath so we don’t accidentally brush into each other. I don’t want to have any more contact with him than absolutely necessary.
When I look up at him, his eyes widen. They’re more hazel than brown. I never noticed that before.
I swallow hard, blinking to clear my head. He tried to get mefired. Who cares what color his eyes are?
“Well?” I say. “Are you going to deny it?”
“I… Listen, I don’t trust you. Okay? You have a really good reason to be sabotaging the team, and I just don’t think my parents should be employing someone like that.”
I almost can’t breathe from anger. “Who’s sabotaging whom?” I snap back. “Listen, Dawson, I didn’t get your precious coach fired. I didn’t know anything about him until this week, honestly, and I wish it had stayed that way. But you know what else I learned this week? That he was ignoring the fact thatyoushould’ve been on academic probation last year.”
Dawson pales beneath the remnants of his summer tan. His eyes dart behind me, as if Principal Castillo is eavesdropping, waiting to catch him in a lie. “I brought my grades up,” he says in hushed tones. “It was a tough moment, okay? I was stretched thin. I needed more time, and if I’d gotten pulled from the team…” He trails off.
For a minute I almost feel bad. I understand being stretched thin. Home from this shift to shower, cram for a test, update the plug-ins on my site, and catch as many hours of sleep as I can before rolling out of bed and downing bottomless coffees to get through the day—and I’m not even waking up before dawn to practice before school.
Then I remember who I’m talking to. Someone with as many privileges as Dawson doesn’t get to blame his bad choices on how hard things are for him.
“I need this job,” I say through clenched teeth. “All I want is to be left alone at school, okay? So call off the rumor mill and stop trash-talking me to your parents.”
A lump forms in my throat at the idea of becoming even more of an outsider this year. At what that might do to thetiny niche I’ve carved out for myself and the path I’m paving out of here. I swallow past it and jab a finger into Dawson’s chest.
“I have no interest in narcing on you, but if you keep trying to fuck up my life, I will. I can’t imagine you’ll face too many consequences—the school’s too busy kissing your ass—but they’ll have to do an investigation, and that won’t look good.”
A muscle twitches in Dawson’s jaw as he looks down at me. His expression is shadowed. I hold my breath, remembering the week of my life when I’d thought he had a nice smile, when I’d thought I was lucky to work with the guy half the school was crushing on.
He’s not smiling today. You don’t smile at the piece of gum clinging to your shoe. “You don’t leave a guy many options,” he says.
Triumph flares in my chest. Something about this battle between us only hardens my resolve. Whatever Dawson tries to do to me, I’m going to come out on top. He won’t ruin my chances to get out of here.
I’ve always thrived on proving people wrong.
“Exactly. You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”
MONDAY, 3:05 P.M.
Harper:Are you working this afternoon?
