Which is where I bought the pin Lindsey claims is hers. And as for Kyle. It’s a free country.” I start to walk away, so angry I forgot my ankle hurts. Until I put weight on it.
Em catches my arm . My books drop to the floor as she twists me to face her. “Here’s the thing,” she says. “Lindsey tells me a little story about you and a pin and the parking lot and Kyle. The next thing I know, that very same day , in fact, he’s telling me we’re through. He just followed me home from school and right there in my garage, broke my heart. Everything was fine between us until the day he rescued you. You see where I’m headed.”
I yank free of Em’s grasp. “If you really want the reason why he dumped you, I suggest you look in a mirror.”
Em shoves me . I stumble back, tripping over my books and bumping hard against the wall. She drills her finger into my shoulder. “Just what do you mean by that?” she shouts. Two teachers step from their classrooms and stand in their open doorways, watching. One of them folds his arms across his chest. Em doesn’t notice either of them—or if she does, she doesn’t care.
“ I mean you’re not a nice person. Both times I’ve run into you, you’ve shoved me up against some wall and yelled at me. You don’t even know me. But since I’m new here, I’ll spell it out for you. Nothing about me is any of your business. You don’t have the right to get in my face. Stay away from me.”
Em’s eyes widen and her lips part with a breathy “Huh.” A few seconds pass like that, with her frozen and staring and me shaking inside, like my guts are trapped in a paint-mixing machine. Then two creases form across her forehead. Her mouth pulls into a sharp frown. Her eyes twitch.
“Nobody talks to me like that,” she says . I swear she’s gritting her teeth.
“ Everybody should talk to you like that! People should have started calling you on your crap when you were five. You would have wound up better domesticated.”
Em’s right hand curls into a fist. She presses in on me until I’m smashed against the wall. Our bony knees stab into each other. Her breathing comes in puffs that smell like mint and something else, coffee, maybe. “I totally hate you,” she whispers.
“ That doesn’t give you the right to bully me,” I say.
“ Is there a problem here?” The teacher across the hall, the one with his arms folded, takes a single step toward us. Like a burst sack of baby spiders, his class spills from the doorway behind him.
Em jumps away from me as though I’m a live wire. “This girl started yelling at me. I don’t know why. I was just on my way to lunch.”
“ I’ve been standing here a while,” the teacher says.
Em shrugs. She takes one step back, turns, and walks toward the lunchroom.
“Miss Harrelson,” the second teacher has her cell phone in her hand . She points in the opposite direction, toward the front of the building. “Mr. McAddams is expecting you. I’ll accompany you to his office.”
Em stops. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her black knit sweater and draws a deep, exaggerated breath. Then she whirls on the heel of her boot. As she moves past me, her eyes are flint and steel. She mouths, so only I can see: “You’re dead.”
KyleKDTlovesyou
4:27 PM (5 minutes ago)
To me
Aspen ,
My sessions here are going fine. They’ll carry on for two months more, on Skype. All we’re doing now is going over ways to ‘stand my ground’ but I swear, I’ve got it. I was just blocked, you know? Evan’s death messed me up. I held too much inside. I let things get crazy. But I’ve talked it out and I’ll keep talking, whenever I need to. I don’t like hearing about your run-in with Em. I feel like everything happening to you is my fault. You’re more important than what I’m doing here. I want to come home.
Em catches my arm . My books drop to the floor as she twists me to face her. “Here’s the thing,” she says. “Lindsey tells me a little story about you and a pin and the parking lot and Kyle. The next thing I know, that very same day , in fact, he’s telling me we’re through. He just followed me home from school and right there in my garage, broke my heart. Everything was fine between us until the day he rescued you. You see where I’m headed.”
I yank free of Em’s grasp. “If you really want the reason why he dumped you, I suggest you look in a mirror.”
Em shoves me . I stumble back, tripping over my books and bumping hard against the wall. She drills her finger into my shoulder. “Just what do you mean by that?” she shouts. Two teachers step from their classrooms and stand in their open doorways, watching. One of them folds his arms across his chest. Em doesn’t notice either of them—or if she does, she doesn’t care.
“ I mean you’re not a nice person. Both times I’ve run into you, you’ve shoved me up against some wall and yelled at me. You don’t even know me. But since I’m new here, I’ll spell it out for you. Nothing about me is any of your business. You don’t have the right to get in my face. Stay away from me.”
Em’s eyes widen and her lips part with a breathy “Huh.” A few seconds pass like that, with her frozen and staring and me shaking inside, like my guts are trapped in a paint-mixing machine. Then two creases form across her forehead. Her mouth pulls into a sharp frown. Her eyes twitch.
“Nobody talks to me like that,” she says . I swear she’s gritting her teeth.
“ Everybody should talk to you like that! People should have started calling you on your crap when you were five. You would have wound up better domesticated.”
Em’s right hand curls into a fist. She presses in on me until I’m smashed against the wall. Our bony knees stab into each other. Her breathing comes in puffs that smell like mint and something else, coffee, maybe. “I totally hate you,” she whispers.
“ That doesn’t give you the right to bully me,” I say.
“ Is there a problem here?” The teacher across the hall, the one with his arms folded, takes a single step toward us. Like a burst sack of baby spiders, his class spills from the doorway behind him.
Em jumps away from me as though I’m a live wire. “This girl started yelling at me. I don’t know why. I was just on my way to lunch.”
“ I’ve been standing here a while,” the teacher says.
Em shrugs. She takes one step back, turns, and walks toward the lunchroom.
“Miss Harrelson,” the second teacher has her cell phone in her hand . She points in the opposite direction, toward the front of the building. “Mr. McAddams is expecting you. I’ll accompany you to his office.”
Em stops. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her black knit sweater and draws a deep, exaggerated breath. Then she whirls on the heel of her boot. As she moves past me, her eyes are flint and steel. She mouths, so only I can see: “You’re dead.”
KyleKDTlovesyou
4:27 PM (5 minutes ago)
To me
Aspen ,
My sessions here are going fine. They’ll carry on for two months more, on Skype. All we’re doing now is going over ways to ‘stand my ground’ but I swear, I’ve got it. I was just blocked, you know? Evan’s death messed me up. I held too much inside. I let things get crazy. But I’ve talked it out and I’ll keep talking, whenever I need to. I don’t like hearing about your run-in with Em. I feel like everything happening to you is my fault. You’re more important than what I’m doing here. I want to come home.
Similar Books
