her on my skin. My muscles bunch up and battle me for control.
“Hey, Zander, what are you doing here?” Ivy asks.
My tension-bound muscles make it difficult to move, but I manage to look over at her. Actually speaking takes a few seconds longer. “Just getting some help with my calculus homework.”
Do I imagine that her mouth turns down in disappointment? Was she hoping I was there to see her, or is she upset that I might still be here for a while?
“Oh, really? I’d offer to help you out, but I’m sure Mr. Dalton has it covered,” she says.
Her response surprises me enough to let me focus more on her than my hunger.
“You’ve taken calculus already?” Most kids don’t take it until their senior year, if they take it at all. I’m only taking it my junior year because I tested out of geometry when I was a freshman. Don’t ask me why shapes make much more sense to me than numbers, they just do.
Ivy shakes her head, her cheeks darkening to pink again. “No, it’s just a hobby.”
Even Mr. Dalton raises his eyebrows at that comment. Ivy blushes even deeper.
“My dad’s an actuary. He loves math. It’s super nerdy, but he used to teach me about math rather than reading me bedtime stories. I guess it kind of stuck with me. I like math, too.” She closes her eyes and bites the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, I should let you get back to work. I didn’t mean to interrupt you and admit what a dork I am.”
Ivy doesn’t wait for a response. She walks over to her desk, slides into it, and promptly puts her head down. I’m so off balance, my hunger can’t even get a good grip on me. Every conversation I have with her becomes a new exercise in odd.
“Huh,” Mr. Dalton says, “I’m going to have to pay closer attention to her homework assignments. If she really knows what she’s doing, I may recommend her for AP next year.”
I hear him, but I don’t respond. I’m still staring at Ivy’s ducked head, wishing futilely she would look up at me. It’s not until Mr. Dalton swats my shoulder that I look back at him. “What?”
His eyebrows rise expectantly. “How do you know Ivy? She just transferred here this week, and let’s face it, Mr. Social you aren’t.”
“She’s Laney’s cousin.” I don’t generally talk to people much, especially not about my family or friends, but like I said, Mr. Dalton helped me through a lot the last few years. He nods with understanding.
“You like her?” he asks.
My head starts nodding before my brain can catch up. “What? No.”
“Zander …”
“I said no, Mr. Dalton. Don’t push me.”
He shakes his head and stares past me to Ivy. “I’m not trying to push you, Zander, but you obviously like her. Why not ask her out? She seems nice enough.”
“You know why not,” I say.
“What happened to Lisa…you can’t let that stop you from getting close to people.”
Hearing her name sends a spike of guilt and self-hatred through me. My shoulders hunch inward and I can feel myself starting to shrink away to nothingness. Mr. Dalton’s hand on my shoulder halts the inevitable descent. “Hey, calm down. Don’t let it get to you. You have to let it go.”
“That isn’t the kind of thing you can let go,” I argue.
I’ll never forget, never rid myself of seeing her face when I close my eyes, never be free of nightmares of that night. My fingers wrap around my pencil and squeeze it in an effort to vent the raging emotions that are threatening to rupture.
“Zander, it wasn’t your fault.”
A shiver races through me like burning acid. That’s what he thinks. That’s what everyone thinks.
“Hey, man, I was just making a suggestion. Don’t get upset. You’re a good guy. It would just be nice to see you with a smile on your face once in a while. You’ve been through a lot. You could use some good in your life,” Mr. Dalton says.
“Yeah, I could,” I say, half to myself.
“Then ask her out.”
“It’s more complicated than
“Hey, Zander, what are you doing here?” Ivy asks.
My tension-bound muscles make it difficult to move, but I manage to look over at her. Actually speaking takes a few seconds longer. “Just getting some help with my calculus homework.”
Do I imagine that her mouth turns down in disappointment? Was she hoping I was there to see her, or is she upset that I might still be here for a while?
“Oh, really? I’d offer to help you out, but I’m sure Mr. Dalton has it covered,” she says.
Her response surprises me enough to let me focus more on her than my hunger.
“You’ve taken calculus already?” Most kids don’t take it until their senior year, if they take it at all. I’m only taking it my junior year because I tested out of geometry when I was a freshman. Don’t ask me why shapes make much more sense to me than numbers, they just do.
Ivy shakes her head, her cheeks darkening to pink again. “No, it’s just a hobby.”
Even Mr. Dalton raises his eyebrows at that comment. Ivy blushes even deeper.
“My dad’s an actuary. He loves math. It’s super nerdy, but he used to teach me about math rather than reading me bedtime stories. I guess it kind of stuck with me. I like math, too.” She closes her eyes and bites the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, I should let you get back to work. I didn’t mean to interrupt you and admit what a dork I am.”
Ivy doesn’t wait for a response. She walks over to her desk, slides into it, and promptly puts her head down. I’m so off balance, my hunger can’t even get a good grip on me. Every conversation I have with her becomes a new exercise in odd.
“Huh,” Mr. Dalton says, “I’m going to have to pay closer attention to her homework assignments. If she really knows what she’s doing, I may recommend her for AP next year.”
I hear him, but I don’t respond. I’m still staring at Ivy’s ducked head, wishing futilely she would look up at me. It’s not until Mr. Dalton swats my shoulder that I look back at him. “What?”
His eyebrows rise expectantly. “How do you know Ivy? She just transferred here this week, and let’s face it, Mr. Social you aren’t.”
“She’s Laney’s cousin.” I don’t generally talk to people much, especially not about my family or friends, but like I said, Mr. Dalton helped me through a lot the last few years. He nods with understanding.
“You like her?” he asks.
My head starts nodding before my brain can catch up. “What? No.”
“Zander …”
“I said no, Mr. Dalton. Don’t push me.”
He shakes his head and stares past me to Ivy. “I’m not trying to push you, Zander, but you obviously like her. Why not ask her out? She seems nice enough.”
“You know why not,” I say.
“What happened to Lisa…you can’t let that stop you from getting close to people.”
Hearing her name sends a spike of guilt and self-hatred through me. My shoulders hunch inward and I can feel myself starting to shrink away to nothingness. Mr. Dalton’s hand on my shoulder halts the inevitable descent. “Hey, calm down. Don’t let it get to you. You have to let it go.”
“That isn’t the kind of thing you can let go,” I argue.
I’ll never forget, never rid myself of seeing her face when I close my eyes, never be free of nightmares of that night. My fingers wrap around my pencil and squeeze it in an effort to vent the raging emotions that are threatening to rupture.
“Zander, it wasn’t your fault.”
A shiver races through me like burning acid. That’s what he thinks. That’s what everyone thinks.
“Hey, man, I was just making a suggestion. Don’t get upset. You’re a good guy. It would just be nice to see you with a smile on your face once in a while. You’ve been through a lot. You could use some good in your life,” Mr. Dalton says.
“Yeah, I could,” I say, half to myself.
“Then ask her out.”
“It’s more complicated than
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