I gave him a lazy smirk and held up my test with its big red A.
He pursed his lips, mildly impressed, then revealed his A+.
Asshole.
I rolled my eyes with a laugh while he shrugged as if his baffling genius were out of his hands. Something tight and awkward between us loosened.
When class was over, I took a chance and followed him outside to a low wall that buffered the Geek Tree, where kids from the upper math classes and band members like to hang out.
“Hey, man.”
“Yesss,” he drawled, spinning on his heel to face me, his coat flaring around him. I was almost glad it was winter. Now his outfits made sense and weren’t a constant reminder of the horrors he’d suffered.
Today he looked goddamn devastating in a slate gray turtleneck sweater, black pants, and a long gray tweed coat. But then he always looked devastating. His very existence was a challenge to my willpower.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“Great. Never better.” He managed a dry smile. “Congrats on the big win.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I jammed my hands in my letterman jacket pockets. “So…have you put in college applications?”
“We’re doing small talk now, are we?”
“I don’t know. Better than not talking at all. Isn’t it?”
He regarded me for a moment and then lounged against the wall. “I’m not going to college.”
“What do you plan on doing after we graduate?”
“Disappear.”
A chill swept through me. “What does that mean?”
“I’m going to travel,” Holden said. “Or not. I haven’t really planned it beyond getting my inheritance from my parents and having nothing to do with them ever again.”
“With your smarts, you could have your pick of colleges. Hell, you probably could’ve had three advanced degrees by now. Or teach somewhere.”
“Can you really see me at the front of a classroom? Grading papers and holding office hours like a regular schmuck?”
I crossed my arms. “Yeah. I can.”
He studied me as if trying to decide if I were kidding or not, then shook his head, his voice low. “It’s not in the cards for me this time around.”
I leaned against the wall beside him but not too close. “Do your parents ever try to contact you?”
“No. Which is preferred. They’ve done enough damage, don’t you think?”
“I don’t think you’re damaged.”
“You don’t know me very well.” His piercing green eyes bored into mine, a challenge. Daring me to recall everything that happened between us that night at the pool.
As if I could forget.
“What about you?” he asked. “Have you decided which lucky university you’ll grace with your presence?”
“Got it narrowed down to a few. Texas A&M or Alabama, probably.”
“That will make Dad proud.”