Constance scoffed. “Omigod, if Walt Whittaker showed any interest in me at all, I would dump Clint like that.” She added a finger snap to show just how quickly.
“Wow. I had no idea,” I said, sliding down in my seat again.
I could hardly believe that a guy like Whit could inspire such
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ardor in a girl, but it just went to show there was someone for everyone. And it turned out that Constance's someone just happened to be the same someone who had stuck his tongue down my throat just a couple of nights ago.
“Oh, no one does. I keep it completely on the DL,” Constance said, then gasped. “Don't tell anyone, okay?”
“Don't worry, I won't.”
Just like I won't be telling you about a certain illicit encounter with a certain someone in the woods Sunday night.
Just what I needed. More secrets from more people. Pretty soon it was going to get tough keeping them all straight.
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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
Another night passed. Then another. There was no word of Thomas. Every hour of every day was occupied with either chores, class, or avoiding Natasha, which wasn't easy, considering we shared a room. I hadn't searched Noelle's room or anyone else's. Hadn't so much as opened a drawer. The longer Natasha went without mentioning it, the more I hoped she might just forget about it.
A girl could dream.
Still, all the work and worry and stealth maneuvering to avoid her took their toll. I couldn't sleep, could hardly eat, and was still waiting for the police to come talk to me. By the end of the week, I felt like a shadow of my former self.
On Friday at lunch I placed my overloaded tray at the end of the Billings table and handed out the food I had been told to procure. Then I dropped down into one of two empty seats and pulled out my trig text with a sigh. I had a quiz that afternoon. I couldn't even remember what chapter it was supposed to cover.
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Listlessly, I flipped through the pages, noticing my raw, irritated fingertips, red from cleaning products and chapped from too much washing. My knuckles were cracked as well and there were little nicks and cuts all over my hands. I was truly becoming a hard laborer.
A shadow fell over my book just as I decided on a chapter to read through. Or more likely, one sentence to read through over and over and over again without absorbing a thing. Someone cleared his throat. Finally I looked up.
Whit hovered over me, his hands behind his back, a mischievous smile on his face. He wore a green sweater with a tiny hound's-?tooth pattern that on him looked like way too many hound's teeth.
“Hello, Reed,” he said, near giddy.
“Hi...?”
I looked around at the others. A few of them watched with interest. London, who sat at the next table just behind Noelle, seemed especially intrigued. She actually stopped grooming and turned around.
“What's up?” I said.
“I have something for you,” Whit told me. “Nothing big. Don't worry. I just... I saw them and I thought of you.”
Big gulp.
“Them?” I said.
Whittaker produced a small box from behind his back. It was gray and shiny and had gold lettering. I stared at it.
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Whatever was in that box, I had a feeling it was not “just friends” appropriate. In fact, no random gift on a random day would be “just friends” appropriate. This was not good.
I glanced around. A few people at adjacent tables were starting to take notice. London glared at me with obvious envy and Vienna looked, in a word, stunned. I glimpsed Constance just entering the lunch line at the back of the room. Apparently she hadn't seen.