18 Thoughts (My So-Called Afterlife Book 3) (10 page)

“You should go home.” I held the covers tightly to my chest.

He looked at me, his eyes widening, like he needed to do a double take to make sure it was really me telling him to leave. “I’m sorry.”

I wanted him to explain himself, but of course, he didn’t. “Sorry for what exactly? Sorry for all the time I spent at the hospital only to be cast aside the moment you woke up? Sorry for shoving your tongue down my throat and then ridiculing my feelings for you? Sorry for sleeping with Tammy and only God knows who else? Sorry for realizing too late that you love me? Sorry for coming here at all, for thinking I’d forgive you like it was nothing? Well, I’m sorry. It doesn’t seem like I’m the same person you thought I was, the person you fell in love with. And you know, you’re the one to blame for that.”

A sudden stiffening took over his posture as he stood, his muscles rigid. “Olga, I’m sorry for all that, and so much more. I understand why you’re hurt. It was wrong of me to come here tonight expecting anything. I just hoped—”

“The least you could’ve hoped for was I wouldn’t punch you in the face. Get. Out. Now.”

A part of me, the old part of me, wanted him to stay. Instead, he strode away with another whispered sorry. Holding my breath, I listened for the click of my bedroom door, expecting a sigh of relief to come. Saying what was really on your mind brought freedom, right?

I lay back down, shaking under the sheet. Soon, morning would come and bring with it the first day of our senior year. Who knew what the months ahead held for us? Every school year brought a wave of new surprises, but between Nate’s mind-reading trick, my new friendship with the most popular girl in school, and Conner apparently suffering from a major bipolar disorder, I had a feeling this year would have more twists and turns than a roller coaster.

Twisting and turning was all I did for the rest of the night, and when dawn broke, I realized that feeling of freedom never did come.

“Sometimes we have the right to be mad,
but that doesn’t give us the right to be cruel.”
—Nate’s Thoughts

hen I arrived at school, the anger from the night before turned to worry. Conner wasn’t at school. Given his recent behavior, our friends seemed unconcerned, figuring it was more of the “new” Conner they had come to know. I wanted to explain about his frantic visit to my room in the middle of the night, but shame kept my mouth shut. I did, however, text Conner as I walked to my second period, imagining all kinds of worst-case scenarios. Despite the prospect of a lunch detention, I left my phone on during class in case he contacted me. He did neither. I sent him another text on my way to third period and decided if I hadn’t heard from him by lunch, I’d leave campus in search of him. What I’d say to him if I found him I wasn’t sure of yet. The good girl inside me told me to say sorry, but the part of me that had grown a backbone didn’t think an apology was in order. So what should I do?

As it turned out, no search party was needed. He showed up to the cafeteria wearing sunglasses, and one of Tammy’s old cronies on his arm. Make that two cronies, one for each arm. I thought they were both named Amanda, ironically, because their answer to almost every question sounded like the end of their name: duh.

On all accounts, it looked like the “new” Conner had returned. I seriously needed to research bipolar disorders when I got home this afternoon. In the meantime, I waved in relief at the sight of him, and the gesture was all it took for him to saunter over with his new groupies, the whole cafeteria watching him as he did, snickering while looking at their cells.
Weird.

“What’s up?” he greeted.

I noticed right away he was newly inked on his left forearm, a fresh tattoo of a naked lady’s backside sitting on the beach, a dark moon shining behind her.

“When did you have time to get this? After you left my house last night?”

A wave of confusion rippled across his face. “What are your talking about?”

My mind raced. I leaned forward, staring into his eyes. “Conner, are you in there?”

He threw his head back in laughter. “The Conner you once knew is dead. It’s time you got over him.”

A weight dropped in the pit of my stomach. “In case you forgot, I am. Or are you just going to act like last night never happened between us?”

I blanched, realizing what others around us in the lunchroom would assume happened with a comment like that. Too late to take it back now, though.

He made a
tsk
-ing sound. “Oh, Olga, I’ll always be your
special friend.
We can do the friends with benefits thing if you want.”

I slapped him in the face. “The only benefit I’d get from sleeping with you at this point is an STD. What’s happening to you? I thought Dr. Judy’s intervention worked. I thought you were sorry for everything.”

Shrugging, he said, “Relax. I’ve devised a way for you to get over me. See?”

He pulled his cell out of his pocket and held the phone under my nose. A dating website with my picture displayed on the screen. Specifically, a picture of me wearing my Princess Leia Star Wars costume from last Halloween.

“What’s this about?”

“It’s my little thank you for saving my life. Tammy suggested it back in June when we hooked up, but I only just now got around to actually posting your profile. And look, you’ve already gotten two dozen hits, which isn’t that great considering I already e-mailed it to all my contacts. But still money well spent, I’d say.”

“I hope you’re joking.”

“Oh, no, it’s totally legit. You want to hear your profile?” He scrolled through the screen and read. “Young virgin woman available, funny and quick, which honestly, would be like having sex with me! As my class valedictorian, I’m kind of a big deal. I love Jesus, but he can’t take me out on dates, so give me a call. I think that pretty much sums it up. Jazz hands.”

“Jazz hands?”

“Always end with jazz hands. Isn’t that what your boy Nate says?”

“How about ending this conversation with me punching you in the face?” Nate suddenly stood behind me.

“Oh, hey. We were just talking about you. I can tell what you see in my girl here.” He held up the picture of me on his phone. “I bet you’d like to tap that, huh, Han Solo? Is that why you hung out at the bookstore all summer? You were hoping for a little role play action, weren’t you, son?”

Nate pushed him in lieu of an answer. Conner pushed back, and then it was on.

I’d always been a fan of knights in shining armor, rushing in to save the damsel in distress. There’s always that scene where good guy faces undeserving guy in order to win the affections of the fair lady, the camera zooming in on the action as the villain falls to the floor. I felt like I was in a movie, watching Nate’s fist connect with Conner’s nose. The only difference being I’d never seen Conner as the bad guy until now, but his eyes, dark and darting, suggested he was. He hopped to his feet, vengeance on the agenda, swinging his fist toward Nate’s face. But Nate ducked, then slammed into Conner, driving him to the ground where they engaged in a wrestling match, Conner pinned underneath Nate.

Gauging certain thoughts while in a state of disbelief proved difficult. Everything about this situation felt wrong—Conner wasn’t a villain. But one small detail filtered through: the lunchroom swarmed toward our table, screaming at Nate, because to everyone else he was the bad guy here. And with that in mind, distressed as I was, I stood up on the table and shouted at the masses to, “
Stop
!”

My plan worked. It also left me standing stupidly with nothing else to say, so I hopped down, grabbed my backpack, then grabbed Nate’s arm and left the cafeteria with both in tow.

“You’re dead!” Conner called from behind us, but I kept dragging Nate away from the scene of the crime.

What a douche bag.

“You can say that again.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Nate smiled. “I know.”

“You were listening to my conversation with Conner?”

“Yeah, and good thing, too. FYI, that guy you call your best friend is a monster.”

The tears leaked onto my cheeks.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? I should be asking you that question.”
He sure looks okay, better than okay.

A huge grin spread across his face because, of course, he heard everything. “Maybe we should go somewhere so you can inspect me for injuries.”

“If you don’t wipe that ridiculous smirk off your face, you’ll be going back to the hospital sooner than you’d like.”

“Right.” He took a deep breath. “Well, we can’t go back to the cafeteria. I’m guessing you don’t want to skip school. So where do you suggest we hide out for the remainder of lunch?”

“The journalism room should be safe. The dean will find you eventually, wanting to know what happened back there. But we can hide out in my office until then.”

“You have an office?”

“Perks of being the
Bucs’ Blade
editor-in-chief. Technically, the office doesn’t belong to me. It’s just a small, closed-off space in the back of the journalism room.”

He stopped and gripped my shoulders, turning me toward him. “I want to ask you something.”

I peeled off his hands and continued walking. “Go ahead. I’m sure you’ll know the answer before I even open my mouth.”

“Will you go out on a date with me this weekend?”

“This weekend?” My traitorous heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

“Yeah, ya know, Friday or Saturday night… whichever works best for you.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Why would you want to go out with me? I’m a freak. There’s something wrong with me.”

He adjusted his book bag on his back. “I’m the one who can read your mind, and you think you’re the one who’s a freak?”

“Ha! Didn’t Edward say that in
Twilight
?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t read romance books about sparkly vampires or watch those movies. I’m too manly for that.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad. Because finding a guy who is manly enough to admit he reads books like
Twilight
would be a total turn-on.”

“In that case, I loved all four books.”

I took the stairs two at a time, staring at the steps as I did because if I looked at Nate, I knew I’d blush. “An-y-way, being a freak comes naturally. I’ve been the freaky genius girl since kindergarten.”

He snorted. “Freak meets geek. A match made in heaven.”

“You aren’t a geek, far from it.”

“I thought I’d just made it clear I was the freak, though.”

“So now you’re calling me a geek?” I sneaked a look at him, and I couldn’t help admiring his beauty, inside and out. Maybe he didn’t appear
hot
to every girl like Conner did, but he was undeniably adorable to me.

His face flushed. “Only in the best sense of the word.”

“Which means what exactly?”

Skimming his fingertips along his perfect jawline, he said, “Someone who’s unusually intelligent and therefore doesn’t care what others think, which is why you shouldn’t mind going out with a freak this weekend.”

I snorted. “I think outside school, a safe distance of two miles should be kept between us at all times. There’s too many complications that could happen if we spend time together.”