Inquest by DelSheree Gladden Page B

red.
I’m really sorry, Libby. I didn’t mean to smack you…again,” he
says. Concern and regret play together in his slate grey eyes. I
can’t make myself look away from them.
    “It’s okay,” I
manage to mutter.
    He leans
forward again, staring at my throbbing cheek. Tension bunches up
his shoulders. “You might want to keep your hair down for a while
until you’re sure it won’t bruise. I’m sorry, Libby. If a teacher
sees that they’re going to think someone hit you on purpose.”
    “Like they’ll
even care. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” I say, making Milo
frown. I sigh. “I’ll keep my hair down if it makes you feel better,
though.”
    “It will,” he
says. Evidently he doesn’t trust me. His fingers slide behind my
ear and free my hair to fall forward, pausing on my now covered
cheek. I lean into his touch without thinking.
    My skin
prickles a split second before Milo pulls away from me. The
sensation passes too quickly for me to get anything from it.
    “I think the
warning bell already rang. We’d better go,” he says flatly.
Something about his voice sounds off, rougher than usual. I
shouldn’t have let myself slip like that. It’s just that Lance used
to do the same thing. For a moment the sensation was too familiar
not to get lost in it. I have to be smarter. Milo is my friend, the
only one I have. I don’t want to lose that now by scaring him
off.
    Stuffing away
my emotions, I grab my backpack and follow Milo out of the car. We
rush across the parking lot and push through the double doors a few
seconds later. The hallway is packed with students rushing to get
what they need out of their lockers and race to class before the
final bell rings. Nobody even notices us. Thank goodness. For
whatever reason, Milo follows me to my locker and plants himself
next to me as I yank it open and start loading up my books. I’m
done ten seconds later, shoving the stubborn door closed and
spinning around to find myself face to face with Jen.
    She looks like
a deer caught in a car’s headlights.
    “Jen,” I say
in surprise. “There you are. I couldn’t find you anywhere
yesterday.”
    “L-Libby…I.”
Her eyes dart around nervously. “I’m sorry, Libby, but I’m late for
class.”
    She drops her
eyes, practically running away from me. Her panicked flight catches
some of the other students’ attention. As she disappears into her
classroom, they all swivel back to me, staring, glaring at me like
I have just done something terrible. I just tried to say hi to my
friend. Someone I thought was my friend, anyway. What’s so bad
about that?
    The familiar
brush of Lance’s emotions slices through me as he walks by. Seeing
his expression is just as painful. I take a step back under the
assault, bumping into Milo, who leans against a locker and simply
watches with mild interest. He’s not about to step in and save me,
but it’s clear he isn’t going anywhere.
    Something
flashes in Lance’s eyes. It’s there and gone so fast I barely even
notice it, but the seething flow of jealousy rippling out from him
is telling enough. A very tiny part of me relishes the idea of him
caring. The rest of me has a different response. Irrational fury
boils under my skin. Jealousy? How dare he? He tried to kill me,
for crying out loud! He doesn’t get to be jealous anymore. Stupid,
hateful jerk. Only the rapt attention of everyone still in the
hallway keeps me from slapping Lance across the face.
    The final bell
rings, breaking Lance out of his frozen stance and carrying him
down the hall to his class. Despite my anger at Lance, when he
disappears my whole body sags with relief. I have to lean against
the locker next to Milo to keep from dropping.
    “You okay?”
Milo asks.
    “Yeah, never
better,” I say. I just wish my hands would stop shaking. Milo’s
hands are rock steady as he pushes me away from the lockers.
    “Told you he
was a prick,” he says.
    I don’t laugh.
After seeing Lance in class