“Okay.” I pull out a celery stick and swipe it through the dip.
“You remember last night I told you my dad had a fancy security system installed last year?”
“Yes,” I say. I don’t like where he’s going with this conversation.
“That beep was letting me know someone triggered a perimeter alarm. The cameras around the house are motion sensitive. Somebody is snooping around the house.”
“What?” My heart rate spikes. Someone followed us from the school. This is all too much.
“Hannah.” Ford reaches across the counter, grabbing my hand when I stand up.
“Sorry. Are you just going to let them sneak around outside and try to take pictures of us?”
“Yes.” Ford dips a carrot in the dip, then takes a bite.
“Why?”
“If I can tie the pictures, he takes and puts on the website to him trespassing on my property, I’ll have a better case for pressing charges.” Ford’s phone goes off again. He glances at it but doesn’t pick it up. He removes two glasses from the cupboard and fills them with ice and water. He comes around the kitchen counter and sits down next to me. He runs a hand through my hair to my shoulder, then rubs my back. “Relax, it’s okay.”
“I don’t feel okay.” I breathe. I try to pick up my glass, but my hand shakes, and I set it back down.
“I promise nothing bad will happen, and this will help our case.” Ford leans in, giving me a light kiss on the cheek, and some of the tension in my shoulders melts away.
“Come on, we better head back to school. I need to get my calculus book before class,” Ford says. I grab the bag of carrots and the dip before he can put it away.
“Calculus is the worst class to have after lunch. Mr. Thompson is a good teacher, but he has such a monotone voice it makes me want to close my eyes.” I crunch on a carrot as we walk outside. A little beat-up old Toyota truck is parked in front of Ford’s house. I blow out a breath, trying to let go of the anxiety I feel. Ford’s right. We both have more important things to worry about.
“I just think it’s boring. I finished my homework yesterday before class ended.” Ford smirks, helping me in the car.
“Did you even get any of them right?” I scoff.
Ford doesn’t say anything; he just arches an eyebrow. I tilt my head, sticking my tongue out at him. “I have a few places I wouldn’t mind you putting that.” Ford laughs.
I gasp, but before I can smack him, he shuts my door. I give him a side eye when he gets in the driver’s seat and crunch another carrot. “What? You’re the one that stuck it out. I thought maybe it was an invitation.”
“Oh, jeez.” Then I say, “maybe it was.”
Ford jerks the car to a stop and shifts it into park. “Want to skip calculus?”
The idea is tempting. I wouldn’t mind expending some energy, but if we miss any classes without an excused absence, Ford won’t get to play in tonight’s game, and I won’t get to cheer. “We can’t. We’ll get in trouble.”
“Dang, that’s true.” Ford shrugs and, reaching over, grabs a carrot, popping the whole thing in his mouth. When we get to the end of the driveway, he stops and snaps a picture of the truck’s license plate like it’s no big deal.
As we walk into the school, the five-minute warning bell rings. We hurry to our lockers and then to the end of B hall to class. Mr. Thompson doesn’t have a seating chart, but most people sit in the same spot after a week of class. So when I get to my seat, Shaylee Marsh is sitting there. “Uh—oh—hi,” I say because I don’t know what elsetosay.
“Hey Clark, how are you?” She asks, chomping on a piece of gum.
“Great, thanks.” I glance around, and the only seats left are clear over on the end row in the back. Ford pulls on my backpack, and I follow him over. He sits in the last seat, and I sit in front of him. Shaylee turns in her chair, staring at us, and mouths, “Hi, Ford.” Giving him a little wave.
“She did that on purpose,” I mutter.
Ford runs his hand up into my hair, scratching my scalp. “Take a breath. It’s okay.”
I’m ready for today to be over.
20. Old Flame
I walk Hannah to her art design class and then head to French. Now that Hannah isn’t next to me, girls smile and say hi as they pass in the hall. I used to like the feeling of all the girls gawking over me, but now it just feels wrong.
