Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [100]
“Really?” My eyebrows raised under my bangs.
Brent’s face had gone pale and he was shaking his head furiously. A strong wind picked up and lifted the russet colored curls off Dallin’s face. “Yeah, something of a reputation.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway, since you aren’t dating him, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the homecoming dance next weekend.”
My eyeballs threatened to pop from their sockets. “Sure.”
The air started whipping around us, lifting leaves and pebbles that were directed at Dallin, pelting him. My skirt and hair waved in the gusts and I shielded my eyes as small rock a bounced off of Dallin and flew toward me.
“Great.” Dallin smiled broadly, lifting his forearm to protect his face. “I better go. See you in math.”
As Dallin got further away from me, the air settled to a soft breeze that whispered along my skin. Rocks, leaves, and twigs dropped to the ground, and I sneezed as the excess dust tickled
my nose.
“He just asked you out right in front of me,” Brent complained.
I bit my tongue until it hurt, trying to stay the laughter threatening to stampede out of my mouth. Finally I said, “You do know he couldn’t see you, right?”
Brent scowled. “Yeah, but how did he know I wasn’t planning on asking you?”
“It sounds like your reputation preceded you,” I said, my bitterness drizzling over my words. I drew circles in the dirt with the toe of my shoe.
“I never liked Dallin.” Brent ground his teeth together while levitating a rock in front of him.
“So, no comment on him saying you get around, huh?”
Brent rubbed the back of his neck, and his lips moved but no sound came out, like he was practicing a speech. “I plead the fifth.” He tried to smile but it didn’t quite work.
My heart seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces in my chest. The broken shards punctured my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. I swallowed hard, the fragments of my heart dusting my toes.
“Oh . . .” I tried to play it off like it didn’t matter that I was just another bee in his swarm of girls. Every interaction we had shared changed in my mind, now seeming less significant.
Turning a little unsteadily, pretending to get a closer look at the orange trees, I grabbed onto a branch for support from the emotional below the belt blow, peeling off a piece of loose bark. I rested my head against the tree and inhaled the citrusy scent of the blossoms. I rubbed the rough bark between my fingers absentmindedly. A chipmunk scampered along the ground further into the groves and I wanted to join him in his retreat. The life of a chipmunk suddenly seemed oddly enticing.
“Are you okay?” Brent asked, circling around so he could see me.
I forced a bright smile on my face. “Yep.”
“About what he said . . .” Brent started, looking into the groves.
“Nothing I didn’t already guess.” I laughed, pulling a leaf off the tree and twirling it between my fingers.
“Oh,” Brent said, hurt clouding his eyes, turning then more amber then brown.
An uncomfortable silence separated us as solidly as a brick wall.
“So about my plan . . .” I started.
“There is no plan. Let’s get this straight, Yara. I. Forbid. You. To. Do. Anything.” Fury blazed in Brent’s eyes and I almost cowered at its intensity. “Promise me.”
As grade school as it may have been, I crossed my fingers behind my back and promised, “I won’t do anything dangerous or stupid.”
****
That evening when Cherie walked into our room I almost pounced on her. “Come on, we’re hiking to the nearest bus stop, we’re going to town.”
“Sounds fun,” she responded with a smile. “Why?”
I cast a nervous look around our room. “Can’t talk to you about it here.”
Cherie was a far more trusting soul than I was and she simply shrugged, grabbed her wallet, and strolled into the hallway, telling me to lead the way. We cut through the groves, shaving off a half-mile, until we found the nearest bus stop. Cherie had this escape route drawn up before we ever stepped onto campus in the fall. I didn’t tell her anything until we were sitting in front of the old world inspired fountain by the movie theater