“At school? I didn’t realize Rory was dating a child.”
A child? Anger rippled through me, yet I could not summon one comeback.
“Just give me his phone number,” the woman said.
“I’m not going to do that.”
She swore, and then the line went dead.
“Hello?”
I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen and then at my friend. She stared at me, a question in her gaze. I shrugged. She shrugged. I called the number back, but it only rang. No voicemail picked up.
It wasn’t that I wanted to talk to her again, after how rude she’d been, but something about the conversation didn’t sit right. This woman seemed to know Rory. But how? Pulling out my notebook, I jotted down the phone number and what she’d said before googling “Martin and Co.” No place of business came up.
Grace
Do you know some woman who works for Martin and Co.? She said they’re coming to talk to you.
I sent the text off to Rory, knowing he was at work still and wouldn’t answer me until he was off, but if this truly was as urgent as she made it seem, I wanted him to know.
Shoving the phone in my pocket, I waved at my oddly awesome friend and went off to class.
* * *
I wasin sixth period when the first call came in. Phones weren’t allowed out of backpacks, but I took a peek and saw it was Rory calling. And then, like the woman before him, he called and called again. It wasn’t until class was over that I could text him back.
Grace
Sorry I was in class
His response arrived a split second after mine was sent.
Rory
Meet me out front by the flagpole
Wait, Rory was here? At my school? My heart sped up at just the thought of our worlds crossing. I wanted to share him, but he was skittish about school and didn’t want to go anywhere near it. I speed walked through the hallways, my heart soaring until I realized he hadn’t come for me. He’d come because of the message from the bitchy woman who’d called me a little girl.
Rory was right where he said he’d be, in a black t-shirt that hugged him tight and a pair of faded jeans. His hair was a flyaway mess, and he held the sticks in his hands, banging them against the flagpole in a rousing beat. He had the attention of everyone who passed him by. Not that he noticed. He was stressed, more than I’d seen him in a long time. I could see it in his body movements and in the deep grooves of his forehead. Something had been bothering him for a while now, and despite our long conversations about nothing, I’d never been able to pull that information out of him.
Rory stopped the impromptu drumming when he saw me. He walked over, taking the stairs two at a time. God, he was so handsome, eye candy for the musically inclined. I imagined him making it to the top of the steps, picking me up, and kissing me in front of all my jealous classmates. But as he approached, the expression on his face told me there would be no magical movie moment. Rory was more than stressed; he was panicked. He grabbed my hand and guided me down the steps in a caveman move I really wasn’t digging.
“Rory,” I said, “slow down.”
He wasn’t listening, instead just dragging me along.
“Rory!” This time, I added the brakes. “Stop. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m not going with you.”
Eyes swiveled in our direction. My classmates whispered behind their hands at the scene we were making.
“Not here, Grace.”
“Did I do something wrong? I didn’t give her your number. I didn’t think you’d want me too unless…” I halted, my face souring. He wasn’t seeing this woman, was he?
“What do you know about her?” he said, raising my suspicions more.
My lips flattened. “Am I not supposed to know about her?”
