“Mara. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
It’s a lie and he knows it. He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for me to go on, but I’m already walking away before I can say anything else. What my words would be, I don’t even know. They’re formless in my head, dark swirls and sharp corners. They’re not pleasant or witty or loving.
Not fine, not fine, not fine.
As I walk across the field, the words swirling through my head, my legs swishing through the grass, I feel dozens of eyes on me. I haven’t seen anyone from school except Hannah since I tried to scratch Jaden’s eyes out, and honestly, the memory almost calms me down a little. I jut my chin into the air as a few of Jaden’s orchestra buddies glare at me. But then I remember that they’re Owen’s friends too, that the whole shit show with Hannah was because of Owen, whether he egged it on or not.
Not fine.
My walk slows a bit, but I force my jaw to tighten, my eyes fixed on the red-topped tent I see a little ways off, a GUESS THAT SONG sign fluttering in the breeze.
“Mara!”
I turn toward my name, bracing myself for some asshole, but nearly crumple to my knees when I see Alex weaving through a family laden with bright puffs of pink and blue cotton candy.
“Hi,” I say, so relieved to see him that I actually manage a smile.
“You okay? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
“It’s been about a day.”
He waves a hand and smiles, but it fades quickly. “I’m sorry how things went down at school.”
Now it’s my turn to wave a hand. “It’s done. I’m fine.”
Not fine.
“So, your parents set you loose?”
“Only to work.” I hook finger quotes around the last word. “But I’ll take it.”
“So will I. Hey, you want to come over tonight?”
I lift my brow and he actually blushes.
“Just to hang out,” he says. “My parents always make dinner and we can . . . I don’t know. Play Wii or something?”
“Wii? As in Mario Kart?”
He grins. “As long as I get to be Princess Peach.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. Owen always chose Princess Peach whenever the three of us played Mario Kart when we were younger. “She’s badass!” he’d say, and I always loved that he picked her. How cool was it that my popular brother wasn’t afraid to be the girl and make damn sure that she always won?
The thought is a sharp punch to the chest. Everything that’s been simmering and boiling in me since last night surges, and for a second, I can’t breathe.
“Hey.” Alex steps closer. “You okay?”
I nod, pressing my hands against my stomach, trying to force air into my lungs.
Alex reaches out, and soon he’s touching me for the first time since we kissed. It’s not a huge deal, just his hands lighting gently on my shoulders, but it shocks me enough that I gulp a big breath and then another and soon feel calmer.
Until I see Owen watching us from a few tents down, open-mouthed, cakes stacked like a fortress on the table behind him. His forehead is wrinkled and his eyebrows bunch together like when he’s confused. I call it his old man stare. Consequently, he calls it my old lady stare, because I do the exact same thing.
“Have you talked to Owen lately?” I ask Alex.
He frowns. “Not a lot, no.”
