The Charlotte Chronicles (Jackson Boys 1)

“Maybe so, but they are obviously not doing anything without you. At least when it comes to extracurricular activities.”

“Like you said, that’s annoying.” I steady myself against the door jam and walk slowly toward the exit. I am going to have to talk to those boys. The idea that they are not having fun because of me is infuriating. I don’t need anyone’s pity.

* * *

Nate is lounging against my locker after last period. His one foot is braced behind him against the metal while his other leg supports his weight. Claudia Amsden is sidled up next to him so close I doubt I could fit a piece of paper between the two.

I grimace, slightly disgusted with myself for caring. My illness has made me weak physically and mentally. Before getting sick I wouldn’t have given Claudia a second thought. She would just be one more girl who liked to kiss up to Nate in hopes that he might ask her out, which hadn’t ever happened to my knowledge. Nate and Nick didn’t do girlfriends. I teased them once that they were saving themselves for marriage but dropped the subject after the two exchanged looks I couldn’t interpret. Nick muttered something like, “Don’t need to,” but he clammed up after Nate punched him in the shoulder.

Nick was probably alluding to the fact that they just messed around with girls and didn’t want the hassle of a relationship, but I pretended ignorance. All three of us got along better that way. God forbid I bring up any three letter words to them like boy or sex. The last time I tried, they’d both turned pale. Well, Nick turned pale and Nate got red in the face and gave me a long lecture about how none of the guys at North Prep were worth my time of day and how I had to wait until someone special came along like our moms had waited for our dads.

I yelled at him that he was being sexist because I highly doubted that either of our parents waited.

We may have continued arguing but Nick, the peacekeeper, made a joke about how we were both so full of air we could float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. After that, none of us talked about girls or guys with each other again.

But that day in the hospital. . . the air between Nate and me had crackled, and for a hot, exciting minute, I thought he was going to kiss me. Since then, though, he’s not made any move toward me. Wishful thinking on my part, I guess.

As I get closer, I can see Nate’s expression and it is not a pleased one. Whatever Claudia is saying isn’t something that Nate wants to hear. Perversely this makes me happy, and I want to give myself a mental head slap for being such a jealous twit over nothing.

Nate sees me and pushes away from the lockers and Claudia. I’m not moving fast enough apparently because he hurries down the hallway to grab my arm. Claudia gives me the same pitying look that she pinned on me in the bathroom. The one that says, Poor Charlotte, can’t even muddle down the hallway by herself.

I jerk my arm away from Nate, which causes me to stumble. “Hey, I got you,” Nate says and pulls me to his side. I’m awash in both frustration and happiness. Frustration that he thinks I need help and that he may be right, and happiness because I’m tucked against his side.

I wonder if radiation has totally screwed with my brain and I will no longer be able to think rational thoughts again. Resigned, I allow Nate to lead me down the hall. “Thanks, Claud,” he says as we pass her. He has one arm angled across my back with his hand curled at my waist. This is the embrace that girlfriends and boyfriends enjoy, and for a tiny illicit moment I allow myself to think of what it might be like to be Nate’s girl.

My fantasy is interrupted when he stops at the girls’ and boys’ locker rooms. “I don’t need to go to the bathroom,” I hiss, mortified.

“I know.” He looks both ways and then pulls the door of the boys’ locker room open. “Incoming,” he yells. “Cover up.”

There’s a rustling of activity and metal clanging against metal as I surmise that guys are dressing or, as Nate ordered, covering up. “What are you doing?” I gape at him.

He gives me a quick smile but it dies almost as quickly as it appeared. “Claud told me you were puking up a storm today.”

“That little—” I don’t finish my statement. Instead I am turning to the door to chase Claudia down and give her a piece of my mind, but Nate’s hands take hold of my shoulders.