Boxes of condoms started appearing the very next day. Mom was nothing if not efficient. And she sure as hell couldn’t be described as subtle. In my bathroom, my bedside table, my schoolbag—they were pretty much everywhere. By Friday, I’d prepared myself to stage an intervention regarding her prophylactic habit. I’d even get Matt involved if necessary, since he’d proven to be silently supportive of me and John.
When we studied at my place Wednesday night, Matt stayed in Mom’s room, working on his laptop. Apart from the bedroom door left open, we’d been given privacy. He didn’t even come looking for me for at least half an hour after I walked my boyfriend out.
Just as well.
John had me backed up against his car with his mouth on mine. My hands had been all over him, because touching him just about topped my list of favorite things to do. Luckily the shrubbery blocked the neighbor’s view of our soft-porn session.
John had talked with Matt about his pool table and a possible game sometime. He complimented Matt on my skills. I’d kind of forgotten how much I liked this one of Mom’s boyfriends. Despite the associated drama, it was nice to have him around again.
But back to school. Thursday lunchtime, my week was going well.
“More rubbers?” asked John quietly, sitting beside me.
Not my choice that he knew about them. A box had fallen out of my bag while I was swapping books at my locker the day before. Having already found one box hidden in a pocket of my denim jacket that day, I’d thought I’d been safe. How very wrong.
Happily, John seemed mostly amused.
“Yeah.” I closed my bag before anyone else could see. “I forgot to do my morning search while I was still in the car. Insanity. She’s the one who needs to have a good, long talk with the therapist.”
Around us, the usual noise and chaos of the cafeteria carried on. Thank God. Sophia and Carrie were absent today, off at a school newspaper meeting or something.
“It would take us years to use all of these,” I said.
“Not years.”
I bumped my knee into his underneath the table. Everything we did stayed out of sight and that suited me fine. Not a problem. “No?”
“No.”
“It’s nearly Saturday.” I took a sip of my water, keeping my eyes on him.
“It is.” He watched me right back, one of those almost smiles on his lips. “Party out on Old Cemetery Road, if you want to go?”
“You didn’t want to go somewhere quieter?”
The way his jaw shifted, his gaze heating, gave me goose bumps.
“Just a thought. I mean, any party will only be starting by the time my curfew kicks in.”
“We could go to a movie? You know I’m good for whatever you want to do,” he whispered, moving in a little closer. “Not going to pressure you about sex, Edie. I think one of Anders’s friends is having a party too, if you don’t want to go to the field. Might get going a bit earlier. We’ve got options.”
“Huh? What?” Anders’s head shot up from where he’d been huddled with Hang, whispering God knows what in her ear. Given her wide eyes and the way she was biting her lip, I didn’t want to know. Seemed to me, they were friends in the same way John and I had been. Friends on the verge of something. Hang denied it, but all the signs were there.
“Throw some hoops?” asked Anders.
“Not yet.”
“We’re going to run out of time. Again. That’s already happened twice this week.” Turning to me, Anders scowled, heavy lines on his brow. “Just give him permission to go play already.”
I scratched my cheek with my middle finger.
“It’s like you have his dick on a leash or something. It’s disgusting,” Anders ranted, way louder than required. Though to be fair, I doubt he actually had another vocal setting.
“Shh!” I hissed.
John threw his empty soda can at him. “Shut it.”
Anders caught the can with ease. “If this is what having a girlfriend is like, then I take it back, Hang. No relationship. Sorry, boo. We’ll just have to keep using each other for sex and leave it at that.”
“Are you joking?” I asked. When Anders didn’t answer, I turned to Hang and asked again, “Is he joking?”
Staying right out of it, Hang bit into an apple.
“And anyway, it’s not like that,” I began. “John and I are just—”
“Oh, puh-lease,” said Anders. “He’s my best friend and you’re . . . you. Don’t lie to me.”
Hang winced. “It is pretty obvious that you’re together now.”
“If Edie doesn’t want people up in her business, that’s the way it is.” John checked his watch and then stood, picking his bag up off the floor. “Time for class.”
Anders swore and stomped off after smacking a surprise kiss on Hang’s cheek. The girl barely even bothered to look irritated about his open interest anymore.
“You think I don’t want people knowing?” I asked.
John just shrugged. “Not a big deal.”
Huh.
“History like mine, can’t really blame you,” he said, heading for the door.
“What?”
“Have a think about Saturday night and let me know what you’re up for.”
“John—”
He kept walking. “We’re getting the grade on the paper today, right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I wandered along after him, Hang following close behind. Right on time, the bell rang out, getting everyone moving.
“Is John mad about something?” asked Hang.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s just, he’s usually next to you, you know,” she said.
I watched his back disappear among the sudden crowd in the hall. “He thinks I don’t want us public because of his history.”
“And?”
A sudden headache bloomed behind my eyes. I rubbed at my temple, lost, confused, and quite possibly certifiably stupid. “I thought he wanted to keep it on the down low because I’m not one of the cool types or something.”
“I repeat,” said Hang, “he’s usually hovering by your side like you’re his delicate, precious little flower who might need protection from the big, bad world at any moment. Or like you might need his help smashing the patriarchy or something. I think when it comes to you, he’s pretty much up for anything.”
My jaw hung open.
“Does that sound like someone trying to hide the fact you’re his girlfriend?”
“Really, he does that?”
She nodded.
Shit. “I’m an idiot.”
“We all are sometimes.”
Without further thought, I pushed through the crowd, running after him as much as I could. A couple of people swore at me, but never mind. This was urgent. Once he came into sight, I grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him to a halt. People swarmed around us like a mildly pissed-off, inconvenienced, and sweaty horde.
John just gave me a questioning look. Not a happy one.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Later.”
Shit. Usually, my emotions were the mess. It had never occurred to me that John might have his own insecurities—at least, not about me. I truly was an idiot, one who needed to pay more attention.
We shuffled into class along with everyone else, taking our usual seats. Mrs. Ryder immediately started giving back the essays on Edgar Allan Poe.
“Much improved,” she said, handing mine over.
“Thank you.” A-minus. Awesome. A flicker of pride pulled me up straighter in my chair. I’d forgotten what this could feel like. I turned in my seat to show John, the person responsible for getting me to study and actually give a damn again. This was on him.
“. . . we’ll discuss this after class,” Mrs. Ryder was saying, shaking the paper in front of his face. “Understood?”
“You think I didn’t write this?” asked John, the momentary surprise on his face quickly tightening into anger. “You think I got someone else to do it or something. Because the work’s good for a change.”
Her mouth skewed.
“I read the book and then I wrote the paper.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, mystified.
Mrs. Ryder’s gaze cut to me, her eyes hard and probing.
“What? You seriously think he didn’t do it?” I asked. “That’s crazy. We study together, but he does his own work.”
“You study together,” she repeated, as if that answered everything.
I’d never wanted to kick a teacher so badly in my life. “People aren’t allowed to decide to try and do better at school?”
“Edie . . .” muttered John. “It’s all right.”
“Do not take that tone with me, young lady.” Mrs. Ryder towered over me.
Having to look up at her only pissed me off more. “You’re supposed to encourage people to learn.”
“We’ll discuss this after class, Mr. Cole.” She dropped the paper onto his desk, condemning him with barely a glance.
“You’re denying him the opportunity of an education,” I said, jaw rigid.
Her hand cut through the air. “That’s enough. Get out your books.”
I went nuclear, heat rushing to my face. “Oh, you can go fu—”
“Test me on it,” said John, shooting me a warning look. “If I didn’t write the paper then I’m not going to know shit . . . stuff, about the book. Test me.”
My mouth shut tight. He could do it; I knew he could. If she’d just give him the chance.
“Please.” John shuffled forward in his seat. “You’re right, I’ve been sleeping through classes for years. But that’s not what’s going on now, not anymore. Not since . . .”
Not since the Drop Stop—those were the words unspoken. She must have known it, though.
He blinked, staring down at his desk. “I’m not asking for special treatment. Just a chance.”
Mrs. Ryder’s eyes narrowed further. I’d be amazed if the woman could see anything, peering out from behind her metal-rimmed glasses. “Meet me here after school. You get one shot with me, Mr. Cole. One. Don’t mess it up.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”