I’m already close but I obediently shuffle half an inch along the bench until I feel the heat of his thigh against mine, even through the thickness of my jeans. He curls an arm around my waist, not really touching, just to hold the phone steady with both hands so I can easily see the screen.
Lachlan’s account.
Keanen clicks on the top image and swipes across the full gallery. The last of my anxiety slips away as I see they’re perfectly tame. Me in the nice frock and Lachlan in his suit. An innocent collection of selfies. The most scandalous thing is the neckline of the dress, and even that’s demure, thanks to my flatter than flat chest.
Your tits are the perfect size for my hand.
I jerk, knocking against Keanen’s arm and he twists his neck to look at me. “You okay?”
Nobody has ever called my tits perfect before. My last boyfriend had made a disappointed sigh every time I unclasped my padded bra, making my cleavage disappear.
I nod in response to Keanen’s question, not trusting my voiceand he continues through the parade of pictures, reversing back to the beginning each time he gets to the end.
Then, halfway through the next cycle, his screen freezes, a refresh circle spins slowly, and he’s returned to his feed.
“Weird.” He clicks into Lachlan’s account again, but the photo array is gone. “Guess his other girlfriend found them, huh?”
I roll my eyes at his friendly laughter. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
“Other woman?”
“I filled in for a night because he didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of his family,” I explain, then immediately think that perhaps I should keep my lips buttoned. Creighton’s family events probably aren’t something he wants discussed outside the house. I don’t want to betray a secret accidentally just because I’m a socially awkward babbler.
Keanen holds my eye as he asks, “So, you’re not together?”
I shake my head.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
My mind flicks back to the closest person who qualifies. The ex that I didn’t break up with because I was too chicken. The one reason I was glad to run with my dad, leaving everything familiar behind.
The bite mark itches again, like Lachlan couldn’t stand me to think of another boy and reclaimed my focus. I’m tickled by the idea that even his bruises want to be the centre of attention.
He assaulted you. Don’t smile when you think of him.
My expression falters and there’s enough time to see a flash of disappointment in Keanen’s eyes before I answer, “No. There’s no one like that.” I hesitate a second, then add, “I only moved here a few months ago and haven’t really made any friends.”
He withdraws his arm, checking a few things on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.
I think he’s about to leave, so blurt, “What about you? Why’re you hiding out the back of the gym this week?”
He gives a casual shrug, then nudges me with his elbow. “You’re not the only one finding it tough to make friends in this place. I swear, the entire student body seems to have known one another since primary.”
“Yeah.” I join in with his chuckle, a knot in my chest loosening with relief. He gets it. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but this boy sees it too. The way everyone in Kingswood seems to belong, except me.
Exceptus.
“Hey, this isn’t a come-on or anything, but did you see the notices around school about the dance?”
“The winter formal?” There are so many, it looks like the place was hit by a gang of flyposters overnight. I wrinkle my nose as I give a rueful smile. “Yeah, I might have seen something about it.”
“You want to go?” His posture tightens as he asks and I tip my face forward as I try to think of the right answer. “It’s okay if you don’t. You don’t have to worry about saying no.”
“No, it’s not that…” My mind is a jumble of dates and rosters and minimum wage. “I’d like to go but my job—”
“Sure. No problem.”
“I’m trying to convince my boss to give me extra hours, so I don’t—”
