Broken Compass

He smirks at me. “I like it when you cuss.”

“Don’t change the topic.”

He adjusts the straps of his backpack. “I’m not.” He hasn’t offered to carry mine, and if that isn’t a sign that his mind’s a thousand miles away then I don’t know what is.

And I shouldn’t be staring at his handsome profile, the light dark stubble along his firm jaw like a creeper.

Again.

Especially after kissing Kash.

Frustrated at myself, I kick at a candy wrapper, and then a pebble, and when I find nothing more to kick, I slap at the fence of the house we’re walking next to.

West says nothing. We keep walking, the silence rubbing on my nerve endings like sandpaper. I can’t take it anymore, not today. It’s been a miserable couple of weeks.

“Hey, West. Want to play Assassin’s Creed later on?”

He bows his head, winces. “I can’t today, Syd.”

“Right. Fine.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “You don’t wanna hang out with me anymore.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it, West? Know what? I’m done playing this game.” I stop and turn to him, hands on my hips. “You keep brushing me off. What’s the matter with you? I thought we were friends!”

His mouth tightens. “We are.”

“Then why don’t you wanna spend time with me?”

“Christ, Syd. I’m fucking this up.”

“Yeah, you are.” I take a few seconds to get my voice under control. It’s about to break. “This sucks. I missed you.”

“You did? I mean, you have?”

“Yes! You and Nate. Us.”

“Oh.” An exhale of a sound. A flicker of pain tightens his face and hunches his broad shoulders.

“What is it? What did I say?”

“Nothing. Let’s just go, Syd.”

He starts walking and I have no choice but to follow him or be left alone where the bullies can find me. “Will you talk to Nate? Please?”

But it seems West is done talking.

And I’m done cajoling, and pushing, and crying. I’d hate to discover that the family I found here wasn’t real, that it was all just my own wishful thinking.

How long am I supposed to wait for this mess to fix itself?

“This is your solution?” I hiss at Kash. “Invite us all to a party, get the boys drunk and have them kiss and make up?”

His brows go up. “Not sure about the kissing part. Other than that… yeah, basically. Nate is the one who mentioned the party anyway. What, you don’t think it will work?”

I keep my eyes firmly off his elegant face, so at odds with his piercings and wild hair and tattooed arms and shabby

black clothes. “I dunno. Maybe? This isn’t really a plan, you know?”