I shake my head. “No.”
He exhales, relieved. “So why’d you lie?” he asks, stealing my plate of fries and setting them between us.
I shrug, mimicking him. “Because I want you to join music club without worrying about me. I can handle two hours alone. I’m strong.”
He nods. “I know you’re strong. So... you don’t want to be without me?”
I nod again. “I want to be with you all the time. You’re my best friend.”
He smiles, popping a fry into his mouth. “It’s true, though. We should try to make new friends too,’ he says, holding on to the words I said earlier.
He’s right. Someday, we’ll have to. He’ll always be my favorite person, but I can share him with the world a little. The world deserves to know how amazing Vincent Cooper is.
“You’re right,” I say, sipping chocolate milk.
Vincent flashes me a shy smile, biting into his burger and finishes chewing before speaking. “I’m scared.”
“Me too. But even if we’re not together physically, you’ll still be with me. I’ll never be alone.” I smile to reassure him. You’re part of my heart, Vincent Cooper.
He scoots closer on the bench until our arms brush. “I’d never leave you alone. Not in a million years.”
I smile back. “I know. That’s why I’m calm. Everything will be fine. Now go sign up for music, please.”
He hesitates. “Only if you come with me.”
I leap up, grab his hand, and grin. “Let’s go!” I tug him out of the cafeteria. “Anyway,” I add with a laugh, “I’m asking my dad forJust Dancefor Christmas so we can play together. I saw the commercial and it looks way too fun.”
-*?? . ??? ? ?.-*??
When I reach the classroom of Mrs. Taylor, the home economics and pastry teacher, I find it already filled with students my age. I’ve met most of them in other classes or around the halls during the first few months of school, but I’ve never actually talked to anyone.
Usually, Vincent’s my lab partner, but now I’ll have to find a new one.
When we decided to change schools and attend a public one after elementary school, it was so we could start fresh—and not have to deal with Seth and his group of friends anymore. The problem is, we’re both afraid the same things could happen here and it’s hard for us to separate and try making friends with other people because of our fears.
I like to talk and make friends, but what if I meet another Alison—someone ready to run to her mother with every little mistake I make, just to spread it around and let mine know? I’m afraid of Mom’s reaction if I mess up at this school too. She was against my decision to follow Vincent here, and it was Dad who convinced her.
Toward the end of last school year, during one of his sessions with Dr. Jenkins, Vincent let slip some details about our classmates’ behavior and admitted why he had punched Seth at the beginning of the year.
I know Dr. Jenkins didn’t tell everything to his dads, but he did advise them to enroll Vincent in a new school. The closest option was Everett Middle School, a public school—so that’s where they sent him.
Neither of us wanted to be apart, so I begged my parents to let me switch too. I don’t know what spell my father cast on my mother, but somehow, he convinced her to let me go.
I want to try making friends with someone new. Maybe this time it’ll be okay. Maybe I won’t meet people who rush to report my mistakes to their mothers just to gossip.
And so far, no one’s giving me dirty looks.
I scan the classroom for an empty seat, but they’re all taken. At last, I spot one next to a blond boy with his head bent over a book. Letting out a sigh, I clutch the Bambi keychain on my backpack—the one Grandma gave me—then straighten my dress and smooth down my white stockings. Plastering on a friendly smile, I work up some courage and head toward the desk at the back.
The boy doesn’t look up, not even when I stop in front of him. I think he noticed me, but he doesn’t care. He reminds me of Vincent whenever a stranger tries to talk to him. The thought makes me smile. I hope Vincent’s having fun at the music club.
I wait, watching him, but he keeps reading. All right. You asked for it, blondie.
“Is this seat free?” I ask, finally getting his attention.
He snaps his book shut, closes his eyes, and silently counts to ten before looking up at me. His gaze sweeps from my head to my torso—since I’m leaning my elbows on his desk—and he scowls. My smile must be unnerving, because he looks irritated. Not in the way Seth or Dustin used to—like he wants to tease or hurt me. No, this boy just looks tired that I’m bothering him. And it’s so funny.
His expression is so grumpy it reminds me of Rabbit fromWinnie-the-Pooh.
