Sneakers thudded against the pavement and Lola jerked her head toward the basketball court, dismayed to see Sebastian. He had on black athletic shorts and a matching jacket, his hair a darker shade of brown with wetness. His eyes were on her, studying and searching, his hand dribbling a basketball with the ease of a natural athlete.
“Hey.”
Lola turned her head away and slammed the folder full of her writing shut, getting to her feet.
“Lola, wait.”
She spun around and glared at him. “Are we suddenly on speaking terms again? I guess I didn’t get the memo.”
Sebastian was close, too close, and she took a step back. Even with the added distance between them, she could smell him. He smelled like toothpaste and deodorant and soap. He smelled familiar, good. Her chest ached and she fought the urge to cry. She missed her friend; she missed him so much.
He looked down at the ball in his large hands. When had his hands gotten so big? And his shoulders bulked out? His cheekbones were more hollowed out, his chin squarer than she remembered. He was a young man now, no longer a boy. Sebastian would be eighteen in less than a month. How had a year physically changed him so much?
Lola thought of how much she had visually metamorphosed in the last year and knew it wasn’t so unimaginable, not really.
“Yeah.”
He looked to the side. When he turned back, his gray eyes were intense and fixated on her.
“About that.”
Sebastian blew out a noisy breath. “What the hell happened?”
Lola flinched at the feeling in his tone, suddenly wary.
And confused.
“I mean…I don’t understand.” Even his voice was deeper. She didn’t know this Sebastian.
Lola took another step back. “There’s nothing to understand. You stopped talking to me last year. And now this year, for some reason, your guilty conscience has you sporadically trying to talk to me. And it’s annoying.”
The surprise on his face was palpable. “
I
stopped?” His voice rose. “
You
stopped talking to
me
, not the other way around.” Anger laced his words and Sebastian stepped closer. “
You
stopped returning my phone calls,
you
were always busy when I stopped over,
you
avoided me.
You
, not me.”
Fear reared up
inside Lola, her breath left
her in little panicked bursts. He was mad. Sebastian was upset and she didn’t know him, didn’t know this young man who used to be her friend. He could hurt her. He could hit her.
Lola tripped over a limb and stumbled back, bumping into a tree. Sebastian advanced. Lola crouched down and covered her head, a whimper leaving her. She waited for the blow to come. Nothing happened. Lola lowered her arm and looked up.
Sebastian stood there, brows furrowed. “What are you
doing
?”
Lola put a hand against the rough bark of the tree and got to her feet, feeling dumb.
“Nothing.
I fell.”
Sebastian looked at the ground and then at her.
“On what, a blade of grass?”
With a burning face, Lola said, “Yes. That’s it.”
It was past time for her to go. Lola started to walk away, wanting nothing more
than
to put large amounts of distance between her and Sebastian before she did something even more humiliating. Like cry. She was more than capable of doing that at that precise moment.
“So that’s it, huh? You’re just going to walk away?” he called after her.
Lola ignored him and picked up her pace.
“I never would have pegged you for a coward, Lola Murphy, but this last year has shown me the error of my ways,” was his parting shot, and it stung.
All the way home his words ran through her head, overlapping, turning into a mantra until just one single word rang out, clear and true: coward.
It wasn’t true. None of it was true. He was a liar.
He’d
stopped talking to her.
For no reason.
And then Sebastian had the nerve to turn it around and act like it had been the other way around.
Probably to make himself feel better.
What had she possibly missed about him? Sebastian was overbearing, stubborn, and pushy.
And she was
not
a coward. Why did he even care if she was anyway? He had
Roxanne
. Lola shouldn’t even enter his thoughts.
Ever.
She was sure she hardly ever did anyway. So it really shouldn’t matter if she
was
a coward, not that she was. But if she was, why did he
care
?
*
**
Every night for the past
two
week
s
when Lola got home fr
om work, there he stood. Th
is
night
was no different. He’d either somehow managed to find out her
work
sch
edule or he simply liked to stand outside in the cold and dark for whatever reason.
Lola had a sneaky suspicion he had a hero complex and felt it was his duty to make sure she
made it
home
from work
okay
every night
. The irony of that did not escape her.
She wasn’
t in the mood for his charity, for his guilty conscience trying to
make up for past snubs
by looking out for her now
.
With the pale glow of streetlamps directing her to him, Lola strode across the street and toward
Sebastian
.
The grass
was stiff and
crunched under her shoes.
Even in the dark she could see his
eyebrows lift
as she approached him
. Sebastian’s hands were shoved in the pockets
of his jacket, his breath left
him in short spurts of frosty air.
Lola’s nose and hands were cold,
but the pull of her warm bed
wasn’t enough to keep her from confronting him.
She stopped a few feet from him and looked up at him.
His gray eyes met hers
as he silently waited for her to speak
.
“Stop it.”
Sebastian cocked his head. “Stop what?”
“Stop…
this
.” Lola waved a hand at him and her.
“Stop standing in my yard?”
“I don’t need you looking out for me. I don’t
want
you to.
I’m
fine
. Always have been, always will be.
” Her throat tightened at the lie.
“I happen to like standing outside and it’s my yard, so I can.”
She remembered that look. He’d worn it when they’d argue, when he wouldn’t admit to being wrong, when he made her do something she di
dn’t want to do, but knew would be
best
for her
.
“In the dark?”
“In the dark.
And cold.
And snow. And heat.
Even in the rain.
”
He leaned close and said, “Whenever I like.”
Lola didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad. Instead
she made a sound of exasperatio
n.
“Fine.
Whatever.
Freeze. See if I care.”
Lola spun on her heel.
“Is everything okay, Lola?” he called after her.
She paused, but kept walking.
“Yep.
Everything’s okay.
Perfect.
Wonderful.
Super.
Couldn’t be better.
”
“I think you’re lying.”
That stopped her.
No one had called her out before
.
“At the park, you’d acted scared. Like you thought…
like you
thought I was going to
hit
you or something.” His tone was incredulous, disbelieving.
Lola took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists.
She felt him move behind her
, knew he stood close.
“What’s going on with you, Lola?
Whatever it is, y
ou can talk to me. You know that.
”
If she leaned back, her back might even touch him.
The heat of his breath fanned her hair and she shivered.
She would give just about anything to feel his arms wrap around her, to feel safe
, to have someone hug her, hold her
. Lola sniffed and straightened her back.
“
I want to help you. Let me help you.”
Lola spun around and bumped into him. Sebastian’s hands steadied her, where their skin touched on fire.
He quickly dropped his hands and stepped back.
She
swallowed and
went on the offensive.
“Why do you suddenly care?”
Sebastian blinked, opened his mouth. She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Lola raced from him, away from her confusing thoughts and feelings.
She didn’t want to know
what he had to say, what excuse or lie he would come up with.
The fact was he hadn’t been there for her. He just couldn’t suddenly start acting like he cared. Everything couldn’t be okay with them. They couldn’t go back. She couldn’t forgive him.
*
**
Last night she’d heard his footsteps pause outside her bedroom door.
It made her
sick just thinking about it.
She’d known it was him because of the heavier tread.
He’d never bothered her during the night or while she was in her room before.
Why hadn’t h
e been at work?
Lola hadn’t been able to sleep the rest of the night.
She’d been t
errified he would open the door an
d—
“Lo
la.
”
She sat up and looked around the classroom.
Twenty-one
pairs of
eyes were on her, including the teacher’s.
Students snickered
and Lola’s face heated up
.
Lola
caught the eye of Roxanne and noted the smug look on her face. She was enjoying Lola’
s embarrassment.
Nothing new there.
The walls had maps on them and a globe sat atop a bookshelf. It
smelled of chalk in the room and someone’s body odor.
Lola was hot, but that had to be from nerves because it couldn’t be over sixty-five in the room.
Mr. Welsh
was short, in his fif
ties, and had black curly hair.
He was a hard teacher to begin with and anyone caught not paying attention usually regretted it.
He always wore white dress shirts and khaki slacks.
Some student
s
, the
braver
,
or stupider ones, depending on
how you looked at it, joked
he only had one shirt and one pair of pants
and had to do laundry every night
.
“Yes?”
she asked
the
history
teacher
.
Two bushy eyebrows lifted and he leaned
his hips
against the edge of his desk, arms crossed.
His dark eyes drilled into hers.
“What’s the answer?”
She could tell by his expression he
was enjoying her discomfort.