except after school, more expensive, sweatier, and without any bathrooms to retreat to.
Fantastic.
I didn’t mind these girls, really, I’d just never gotten close to them. It’s not that Britt, Aubrey, Charlotte and Zoe weren’t nice, or smart, or funny, it’s just that I’d never quite fit in. My drama was way more depressing than their drama. I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit about lacrosse games or who was dating who after the hell I’d gone through last fall. By the time I’d been at Mansfield Prep for a few months, they’d given up on me.
Everyone had, except Brendan.
Which is why it bugged me so much that he hung on Sofia’s every word. She was just like them. Exactly like freaking Kaylie Mitchell, who’d made my life a living hell at Williamson. Brendan had always wanted to hang out with me, not the stock pack of popular girls. And yet here he was, fawning over their newly transplanted queen bee and everything I was trying to forget from my old home.
The girls all sat on one side of the two picnic tables we’d dragged together, and the guys on the other. I reflexively sat across from Brendan, all the way on the end, and watched as all the girls leaned in toward Vincent like seedlings to the sun. He chatted with them, leaning forward and asking their names, leaning in close to say things quietly in each of their ears. The giggles were copious.
“So, what do you think about this guy?” Brendan asked, leaning forward and flicking his head toward Vincent. Just then, a tan, toned arm with perfectly painted nails rested on Brendan’s forearm. “Space for me?” Sofia’s sickly sweet voice interrupted the words I was about to say. That I thought Vincent was obviously very full of himself.
Sofia started chatting with Brendan again, flicking her hair back and pushing her chest out. Suddenly, I itched to leave the table, get up and walk anywhere. But even I knew how weird that would look, so I just looked down and pushed the M&M’s around in my melting custard, watching the colors bleed and swirl into a weird shade of reddish-greenish-brown. Between the oppressive heat outside, and the melting point of custard, I figured this would be warm soup in a few seconds under eleven minutes. Ugh. Now I didn’t even want the custard.
I was about to excuse myself and wait behind the car where no one could see me starting to unravel when Vincent’s voice jerked me out of my pity party.
“So, hey. Which one of you lucky assholes is Ashley’s boyfriend?”
The whole table went silent. A couple of the girls laughed nervously, and I shot them a grateful look. I wasn’t some kind of freak or something. I just wasn’t that interested in going out with anyone. Except Brendan.
Vincent quirked his eyebrow, and that slight smile was there just enough to bring out his dimple. His eyes sparkled playfully at me.
Holy hell, was he ever beautiful.
Brendan cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at him. “Ah…Ashley doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
Wow. And I thought this conversation couldn’t get any more awkward.
“Well, that’s weird,” Vincent said, leaning back in his seat and giving me a searing look. My cheeks blazed red-hot. I knew by that way he was looking at me exactly what he meant. I wasn’t weird—the other guys were weird for not wanting to date me. Vincent held my gaze for two more seconds, and everyone at the table stared. Hell, the whole custard place stared. Then he went back to talking with the other guys at the table. A couple minutes later, he swiped the napkins from the table and stood up to throw them out. “Let’s get going, okay, Sof?”
A breath of relief rushed out of me. I didn’t know what it was about Vincent that made my stomach curl into a ball of tension, but I did know that getting away from him would relieve it.
no feelings could be strong enough
That Sunday morning, I relished the opportunity to sleep in. My urge to crawl under the covers and sleep all