When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys 2)
“Hey, sorry,” I said quickly. “You have Biology next, right? I have Chem. I’ll walk with you.”
“Sure, sure,” Donte said, a casual, easy smile on his lips. “Was it my imagination, or were you eyeballing Parish?”
Fuck.
My throat went dry. “Say what now?”
“You. Parish. It seemed like you two were having a moment.”
Fuck fuck fuck…
“A moment.” I scoffed, my pulse was pounding. “Definitely your imagination.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Mmm, interesting.”
I stopped walking. “You have something you want to say to me?”
Donte’s laughing brown eyes were suddenly hard. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
Adrenaline lit up my veins and I felt hot all over.
Shit, here it is. After all this time.
Naked fear gripped me, tinged with relief that the moment had finally arrived. That my pretend life was about to come crashing down over a careless glance. I teetered on the edge, fighting for equilibrium, while part of me hoped Donte would shove me in.
He put his hands in his letterman jacket pockets and rocked back in his Air Jordans. “I’ve just been putting some things together in my mind, you know? You’ve been acting weird for a long time. Like at the Burger Barn awhile back. And when I really start thinking about it, you’ve been shy about your relations with the ladies for years. Almost like…you’ve never had any. And so this weird feeling I’ve been having starts to take shape.”
I forced myself to keep my face blandly neutral. “Yeah, you got me, Weatherly. You found me out. I don’t brag about getting pussy, I don’t share private pics on Insta, and I don’t treat girls like fucking toilet paper the way Grimaldi and Blaylock do so I must be…what?”
Say it, asshole.
“Look, I’m not trying to cause shit for you—”
“No? It sure as hell sounds like it.”
Donte’s hostile demeanor softened, and he dropped his head. “I’m just saying if you have someth
ing to say, you’d better say it. Come clean for the team. So we know the score.”
“Since when is there a score? I thought we were friends.”
“We are. But I like to know who my friends are, man. That’s all.” The bell rang. He hesitated, looking as if he regretted his insinuations. “I’ll see you later.”
He walked away, and I stepped back from the edge.
The rest of the day crawled, my nerves lit up and itchy under my skin as if I were a criminal waiting for police that never came. The murmurs and whispers continued, girls mostly huddled together over their phones, giggling. Paranoia told me they were watching me and Holden. Someone had taped us. Or Holden had, and now the video of him sucking me off was circulating through the school like wildfire.
You’re being crazy. Get a grip.
I approached Julia Howard as she scrolled her phone on the way to lunch. “Hey, Julia. Do you know what everyone’s talking about?”
The popular girl, and one of Evelyn Gonzalez’s best friends, showed me her phone. “Miller Stratton. Evelyn put him on her vlog and…well, you can see for yourself. He’s going to be a huge star.”
“Yeah, great.” I turned to go, relief washing over me even while the knot in my guts tightened.