crisis, he usually has me laughing like a hyena by the end of the disaster. He’s been great since the weed thing; I think he’s trying to make it up to me for not taking the blame, even though he never apologized.
Emery gives me a look from the back of the room that makes me wonder if there’s something going on outside. What the hell was she trying to do anyway, talking to Stutts? Does she think they’re going to be buddies or something? This ain’t the freakin’
Oprah
show. The best course of action is to stay as far away from that guy as possible.
Her eyes have that intense look they get. They study you like they’ll swallow you whole. A shaman’s eyes, I told her once. I don’t know if she can see the future, but she can damn sure see anything you’re trying to hide.
We started going out after we met up at a party at Tab’s house. We’d been talking in art class, and okay, I’m not gonna lie, I liked her a lot. This’ll sound really cheesy, but for the first time since my mom died, I actually woke up feeling pretty good just knowing I’d see Emery when I got to school.
I’ll admit I felt a little off base with her at first. Emery has a low tolerance for bullshit, so I knew my usual tricks weren’t gonna work. But I liked it that I was never sure what she was gonna say—and that I could count on her to always tell me the truth.
Things were going good. But then something happened. Okay, full disclosure: I was a jerk, I admit it, but when Stacey Jordan called and invited me to Heather Raby’s lake house for a party that Sunday afternoon, I told myself she was just being friendly. I mean, senior girls don’t go after junior guys. It wasn’t a date. We didn’t even ride out there together. She just asked if I wanted to meet her there. Seriously, Stacey Jordan—who’s gonna turn
that
down?
Emery was working on a research paper that weekend, so I didn’t mention the party. Stacey and I hung out all afternoon, mostly with everybody else. I had a few beers, and then a few more, and Stacey was being pretty friendly, especially when she asked if I wanted to take a walk in the woods with her. Sure, I felt a little guilty about making out with her, but like Cole said, Emery didn’t own me. It wasn’t like I’d made some big commitment to her.
I had a lot to drink—way more than I should have—and I think I said something to Stacey like I wanted to get to know her better, and I guess she took it the wrong way, ’cause the next thing I know, Stacey’s posted on Facebook that we’re in a relationship. Hell, I don’t know why she did it. Who knows why girls do shit like that?
I knew something was up when Tab called me at one in the morning and said, “Asshole,” and hung up.
I was waiting at Emery’s locker when she got to school that day. I tried to talk to her. I told her Stacey didn’t mean anything to me, but that just made her madder. She wouldn’t even look at me. She just opened her locker, pulled down the picture I’d taken of us on that first day of art class, tore it in little pieces, dropped it at my feet, and walked away. She wouldn’t answer my phone calls—I tried for days.
I did everything I could to make it up to Emery. I even wrote her a long note about how I felt about her. I’ve never been able to talk to any other girl the way I could talk with Emery. We always had a great time together. And even though we never said we were exclusive or anything, to be honest, what I did was pretty low. I mean, I’d definitely be pissed off if she’d done it to me.
I can blame it on the beer, but it’s a pretty sorry excuse if you get right down to it. The thing is, if you have to think about whether something’s right or wrong, it’s probably wrong.
Bottom line, I screwed up. I wanted another chance to make things right, so I left the note on her car while she was at an Honor Society meeting at school.
And then I waited. I was pretty sure that note would do the trick. I
Emery gives me a look from the back of the room that makes me wonder if there’s something going on outside. What the hell was she trying to do anyway, talking to Stutts? Does she think they’re going to be buddies or something? This ain’t the freakin’
Oprah
show. The best course of action is to stay as far away from that guy as possible.
Her eyes have that intense look they get. They study you like they’ll swallow you whole. A shaman’s eyes, I told her once. I don’t know if she can see the future, but she can damn sure see anything you’re trying to hide.
We started going out after we met up at a party at Tab’s house. We’d been talking in art class, and okay, I’m not gonna lie, I liked her a lot. This’ll sound really cheesy, but for the first time since my mom died, I actually woke up feeling pretty good just knowing I’d see Emery when I got to school.
I’ll admit I felt a little off base with her at first. Emery has a low tolerance for bullshit, so I knew my usual tricks weren’t gonna work. But I liked it that I was never sure what she was gonna say—and that I could count on her to always tell me the truth.
Things were going good. But then something happened. Okay, full disclosure: I was a jerk, I admit it, but when Stacey Jordan called and invited me to Heather Raby’s lake house for a party that Sunday afternoon, I told myself she was just being friendly. I mean, senior girls don’t go after junior guys. It wasn’t a date. We didn’t even ride out there together. She just asked if I wanted to meet her there. Seriously, Stacey Jordan—who’s gonna turn
that
down?
Emery was working on a research paper that weekend, so I didn’t mention the party. Stacey and I hung out all afternoon, mostly with everybody else. I had a few beers, and then a few more, and Stacey was being pretty friendly, especially when she asked if I wanted to take a walk in the woods with her. Sure, I felt a little guilty about making out with her, but like Cole said, Emery didn’t own me. It wasn’t like I’d made some big commitment to her.
I had a lot to drink—way more than I should have—and I think I said something to Stacey like I wanted to get to know her better, and I guess she took it the wrong way, ’cause the next thing I know, Stacey’s posted on Facebook that we’re in a relationship. Hell, I don’t know why she did it. Who knows why girls do shit like that?
I knew something was up when Tab called me at one in the morning and said, “Asshole,” and hung up.
I was waiting at Emery’s locker when she got to school that day. I tried to talk to her. I told her Stacey didn’t mean anything to me, but that just made her madder. She wouldn’t even look at me. She just opened her locker, pulled down the picture I’d taken of us on that first day of art class, tore it in little pieces, dropped it at my feet, and walked away. She wouldn’t answer my phone calls—I tried for days.
I did everything I could to make it up to Emery. I even wrote her a long note about how I felt about her. I’ve never been able to talk to any other girl the way I could talk with Emery. We always had a great time together. And even though we never said we were exclusive or anything, to be honest, what I did was pretty low. I mean, I’d definitely be pissed off if she’d done it to me.
I can blame it on the beer, but it’s a pretty sorry excuse if you get right down to it. The thing is, if you have to think about whether something’s right or wrong, it’s probably wrong.
Bottom line, I screwed up. I wanted another chance to make things right, so I left the note on her car while she was at an Honor Society meeting at school.
And then I waited. I was pretty sure that note would do the trick. I
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