“I see you got your new lock.” He gestures to my locker.
“Yeah, I stopped by the office and picked it up this morning. The janitor cut the other one off over the weekend. I’m taking bets on how long it will be before this one mysteriously stops working.” I shove the books under my arm before closing the door and sliding the lock in place.
“Who knows? Maybe they’ll start playing nice.”
“Not likely.” I roll my eyes, following Pierce when he turns and heads in the direction of my first period class. It’s kind of become our thing. He meets me at my locker and we play catch up as he walks me to class.
“So….” He gives me a sideways glance, clearly waiting for me to say something.
“So, what?” I shift my books from one arm to the other.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened Saturday after I left?”
“Nothing happened,” I answer too quickly.
“Don’t think I can’t read you. Spill.” He knocks his shoulder into mine.
“There’s nothing to spill.” I shake my head, not sure how much, if anything, I want to tell him. It’s kind of impossible to talk about something you don’t understand yourself.
“Now why don’t I believe that?” He turns and pulls me to the side as we reach my class.
“Can we talk about it later?” I shift nervously from one foot to the other, my gaze sweeping down the hallway in search of the one person I’m both terrified and excited to see.
“Is it that bad?” he questions, misreading my expression. Then again, maybe he’s not misreading it, especially if the epiphany I had this morning actually ends up being true.
“I guess it depends on what you define as bad.” I knead my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Now you’ve really piqued my interest.”
“I’ll fill you in at lunch,” I promise, the second warning bell sounding through the halls.
“Fine,” he groans. “I can’t be late to first, anyway. One more tardy and Ms. Mullins will likely have me sitting in detention for a week.”
“Well we wouldn’t want that.” I smile when he wraps an arm around me and pulls me in for a half hug.
“Try not to get yourself into trouble between now and lunch.” He pulls back, tipping my chin upward with his hand.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him, freezing when I catch sight of Zayden heading toward us. I groan at the sight of him but not for the reason I’m sure others would think.
When he wasn’t at his locker this morning, I wondered if he was even here. Turns out he was probably just avoiding me.
His expression is hard, his shoulders tense—straining against the fabric of his gray t-shirt as he stalks in our direction. Our eyes meet for the briefest of moments before he snags my arm.
“We need to talk,” he growls as he hooks an arm through mine and hauls me backward, away from Pierce.
“Zayden.” I shake loose of his hold.
“You can go now,” Zayden tells my friend, who seems to be frozen in place.
“It’s okay,” I mouth, meeting Pierce’s confused expression. I have no idea what Zayden wants, but based on the curtness of his voice and the look in his eyes, I’d venture to say it’s not something I want Pierce to witness.
I can tell he’s not sure if he should leave me alone with Zayden, but after a long moment he nods and turns, heading in the opposite direction.
“What the fuck did you tell him?” Zayden clips the moment Pierce is out of earshot.
“What?” I draw back, taken aback by the harshness of his tone.
“You heard me. What did you tell him?”