Page 77 of The Love of My Next Life
Lennon and I might have been cut short, once again, but we’re not done.
And next time? I don’t care who interrupts. I’m not stopping until she comes.
SIXTEEN
I skipped free period.
Kind of.
I sent an email to Hank and told him I had a meeting with my guidance counselor. I lied. I spent the entire free period hiding in the girl’s bathroom. Which honestly was stupid because if Macon were to come looking for me, he’d have no issue with checking every girl’s bathroom in the school.
Still, it makes me feel a tad bit protected.
When the bell rings, I practically run to my locker hoping I can miss Eric, but I fail. He’s waiting for me with his jersey in hand, and his smile is so bright. So kind.
I am a terrible, terrible human.
“Hey, Lennon.” Deep dimples and straight, white teeth.
“Hey, Eric.” Tight lips and a black, black soul.
He hands me his away jersey. I take it and hug it to my chest.
“Thank you. Good luck tonight!”
Eric moves in like he’s going to kiss my cheek, and I step away from him. The confusion on his face makes me feel about two inches tall.
“Sorry,” I lie. “I think I’m coming down with something. Don’t want to get you sick.”
“Oh!” The gratitude that replaces the confusion makes me feel even lower. “Thank you.” He takes a step back, putting more distance between us. “If you don’t feel well, stay home and rest. I’ll understand.”
God. He’s so freaking nice. I don’t deserve someone like him, not after what happened this morning in my bedroom with my soon-to-be stepbrother. My thighs clench at the memory, and I have to actually shake my head to get rid of it.
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “I’ll see you later?”
Eric leaves just as Claire appears. She’s already wearing Josh’s jersey, and from the way she’s bouncing, she feels like a million bucks.
“Why aren’t you wearing that?” she asks, gesturing to the jersey. I roll my eyes and slip it on over my shirt. She smiles, satisfied. “I told Coach we’d do the set-up, too.”
“Why?” I scrunch my nose as I throw my books in my bag. “We’re already working shifts, and we’re not even actual girlfriends. Why can’t one of the real girlfriends do it?”
“Len, c’mon.” She pokes out her bottom lip. “I just think it would be nice, ya know?”
“Or you think it will win you brownie points with Josh,” I counter, and she smirks. “Why do you need brownie points when you’re already giving him exclusive access to your whole lady bakery?”
“Lady bakery,” she squeals with a laugh. “That’s terrible.”
I shrug and smile. I’m proud of my joke regardless of how terrible it was. I open my mouth to tell her to remember her worth, to not give more than she gets, but then I bite my tongue.
Even thinking the thoughts makes me feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite, so I don’t say anything at all. I’ve had nightmares about Sam and Macon in her car. Every time I see her, I get anxious that she’s going to meet up with him. I can pretend all I want, but I don’t trust Macon, and I haven’t forgiven him, yet I still let him do what he did this morning. And I still want him. I’m a disgusting, pathetic cliché.
I help Claire set up the concession stand and listen to her talk. She complains about chem. She talks excitedly about our parents’ upcoming wedding. She asks about college stuff.
Claire’s worked with one of the guidance counselors to perfect her college applications, and she’s pretty much accepted the fact that she’s going to have to take out a ton of loans since she refuses to go to community college.
I haven’t told her yet, but my dad has already mentioned offering to pay for Claire and Macon’s post-high school educational plans. Not that Macon has any. I told Dad as much, but he waved me off with awell, just in case.
“I can’t believe they’re going to Greece for their honeymoon,” Claire says as she fills the fridge with sports drinks and soda. “Your dad is like a real-life prince charming just sweeping Mom off her feet.”
