“Like Josh,” I said.
“Yeah. Like Josh,” he repeated, his blue eyes sad. He licked his lips and looked down at his lap. “And about the other stuff . . . the stuff about me and you—”
“It’s okay,” I said, my gut twisting in knots. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“No,” he blurted, so vehemently it startled me. He wiped his palms on his jeans. “No, I do. I mean, I don’t know what he said exactly, but there is something I want you to know.”
My breath caught in my throat. Please don’t let him profess his undying love. Please, please, please. That was something I definitely wouldn’t be able to deal with on top of everything else. Sawyer reached over and took my hand. He tugged it toward him, holding it between our two knees. My first instinct was to draw it back, but it seemed so unnecessarily cruel. So I just sort of froze. Froze and prayed for this to be over quickly.
“All I want is for you to be happy,” he said seriously, looking me in the eye. “That’s really all I want. You know that, right? Even if it’s with some other guy.”
My heart thumped. Hard. Definitely not what I expected. And I had no idea how to respond.
“Okay,” I said finally, awkwardly.
And then Josh walked into the hallway. Sawyer sprang to his feet, which of course just made the whole thing look even worse than it really was.
“Josh!” I said, standing. “Hey!”
There was something in his eyes as he looked at me right then, something I’d never seen before and knew right away I never wanted to see again. He looked like he wanted to tear me limb from limb. In that moment I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even think. And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.
“I should get back to my dad,” Sawyer said.
He waited for Josh to move so that he could get past, but Josh stood his ground, forcing Sawyer to turn sideways so he could slide by. He lifted his hand in my direction before disappearing around the corner.
Josh’s lower jaw shifted to the side, then righted itself. “Moving on already?” he said archly. “I haven’t even graduated yet.”
My pulse was still pounding from his awful glare. I just looked at him, trying to see the guy I loved and not the one who had just momentarily scared the crap out of me.
“I’m just kidding!” he said, cracking a grin. “Wow. Are you okay?”
He reached for my hands and I let him take them, but kept my distance otherwise, leaning back against the wall. His fingers were cold and calloused.
“I’m fine.” I looked into his eyes, but there was nothing there other than jovial Josh. “You know I’m not interested in Sawyer.”
“Of course I do.” He moved his hands up my arms, enveloped me in a hug, and gave me a quick, dry kiss on the lips. “I was just messing around.”
Then he let me go and turned toward the end of the hall. “So, you ready to get back in there? People are asking for you.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm the beating of my heart.
“Ready,” I said, hazarding a smile.
He reached for my hand and then, just like that, we rejoined the party as if nothing was wrong. As if I wasn’t starting to wonder, just the teeniest, tiniest bit, if Graham was onto something.
DISTRACTION
Josh was off his meds. It was the only reasonable explanation for all the odd behavior. As I sat in the solarium on Monday night along with Constance, Astrid, and Lorna, I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was sitting on the other side of the room, alone, slumped in a chair with one hand against his temple. His focus was on a novel for English class, but beneath the table, one leg bounced up and down, like he was some kind of speed freak coming down from a high.
“So who do you guys think is going to win the scholar-athlete award for the seniors, Trey or Lance?” Astrid asked, taking a slug of her double espresso. “Because Trey’s, like, freaking out about it.”
“Oh, please. Trey has it in the bag,” Lorna said. “He plays three varsity sports and was MVP in basketball. Lance is only on crew and fencing.”
“Yeah, but Lance has the better grades,” Constance pointed out. “And it is scholar-athlete.”
“Exactly what Trey keeps saying,” Astrid put in. “What do you think, Reed?”
“No contest,” I said distractedly. “Trey’ll win.”