Miss Me Not

"Right," I said, trying to push my reluctance back so he wouldn't see it.

"Lunch tomorrow?" he asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"I don't know. Are you going to stand me up again?" I asked.

"No, ma'am," he said, giving me a mock salute.

"Fine, I guess."

He laughed at my indifferent answer. "See you tomorrow, Mads."

"Night," I said, closing the door behind him. The silence of the house enveloped me as I leaned back against the door. I fought the sudden prickling of tears. Being alone sucked.

Chapter Ten

The next few weeks traipsed along without incident. Dean actually showed up for lunch every day, and I tried my best to appear normal. Our tentative friendship was changing into something more. I tried to hold on to the "friend" façade, but Dean kept changing the game up every time I turned around. He somehow got me like no other person had before. Every once in awhile he'd slip in a probing question, digging just a little deeper. His slower approach left me opening up more than I normally would have. His presence began to ebb away some of the darkness in my life, allowing a ray of light to dance on the outskirts. The only thing that marred my new friendship with Dean was my slowly unraveling friendship with James. Our lunches together had become few and far between, and I couldn't help feeling guilty.

"So, tonight I'm going to show you my own version of family fun night," Dean announced. His words hung between us as we gathered up the remains of our lunch.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, instantly apprehensive. His constant little pushes were breaking every rule I'd set as he continually redefined what our friendship was.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," he said, heading off toward the science building. I waited several minutes and then trailed behind him. As a rule, I wouldn't let him walk me to class. I told him it was to cut back on the gossip. I was trying to keep his reputation in tact as much as I could. He was confident that I was overdramatizing the reaction of his friends if they knew we hung out together. He was so naive. My past would tarnish anyone's reputation. Even one as strong as his.

I was almost to class that day when I saw James ahead of me. I picked up my pace so I could talk to him.

"Hey," I said, breathing a little heavily as I finally caught up to him.

"Hey, how's the studying?" he said, calling me out on the lame excuses I'd given a couple weeks ago.

"Not bad. My tutor turned out to be halfway decent," I answered, coming clean, sort of. "We've been doing a lot of studying in the afternoons too."

"Wow, you're taking your classes pretty seriously lately," he said, eyeing me skeptically.

"I figure if I'm going to do this whole living thing, I needed to fix a few things," I said quietly. Squeaking by had been fine when I thought it wouldn't matter. Knowing that I was sticking around had changed my outlook. Well, that and Dean's influence.

"That's great, Madison," he said, sounding anything but sincere.

I knew I was letting him down, and in a weird way I felt bad. My changing was irrevocably changing our superficial friendship forever. Our combined darkness had given us a common bond. What would happen if I continued to change?

"Why don't you join us for lunch on Monday?" I said as sudden inspiration struck. "Dean found this cool tree on the edge of the campus. No one ever goes out there, so it's a great place."

"Dean Jackson is your tutor? All-American-I-Can-Do-No-Wrong Dean Jackson?"

"The one and only," I answered, shooting him a small new-to-me smile.

His eyes widened slightly at my smile, but he didn't comment. "Sure, maybe," he said as the first bell rang. "I better go so I'm not late to class," he said, shuffling off down the hall.

I watched his retreating back with a serious knot in the pit of my stomach. I knew he wouldn't meet me for lunch. It was an unwritten rule that our friendship wasn't designed to be shared.

I was still bogged down with guilt over James when I met Dean after school by his jeep.

"How was your afternoon?" he asked as I threw my backpack into the backseat.

"Nauseating. PerryPervert called me up to go over my English essay. I had the pleasure of watching him jiggle his junk the whole time I stood there. It was like a train wreck. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I'm pretty sure I threw up a little."

"What a dick," he said, putting the vehicle in reverse.

"I think that's the problem. Maybe he doesn't have one and he keeps checking to see if something magically appears."