Leslie's Journal - Allan Stratton [41]
I get to school minutes before the bell rings. Katie, Ashley and the others are talking at the lockers. Katie gives me a smile and a finger-wave. She’s about to say something when suddenly her eyes go wide, like they do when she’s watching horror movies. I turn. It’s Jason.
“What do you want?”
“Don’t I even get a hello?”
“As in, go to Hell-o?” I say it loud, so everyone will be watching in case he tries to yank me away.
But he doesn’t. He shakes his head, sad and soulful. “There you go again. That’s exactly why I broke up with you.”
For the first time in my life, I’m speechless.
“You gotta do something about your attitude,” he goes on. “Not to mention the other stuff.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do I have to say it in public?” He pretends to whisper, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear. “Last Saturday? That guy feeling you up at the club?”
“You are such a liar.”
“Whatever you say. I don’t care anymore. I’ve had it.” Jason glances around at the eavesdroppers. They look away, embarrassed. Except for Ashley. He flashes the baby blues and winks at her. “Hi.” Then the jerk swivels and saunters off down the hall.
Ashley acts casual, but I know how she’s feeling.
“Don’t,” I warn her.
“Don’t what?” she smiles, all innocence.
“Just don’t.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“He’s not what you think.”
“How do you know what I think?”
“Trust me.”
“As if.” And she struts off to class with her nose so high I picture it scraping the ceiling.
Katie takes my arm. “Even if we told, she’d never believe us,” she says in my ear. “Besides, it’s not like he asked her out or anything.”
Let’s hope it stays that way. I don’t want anything on my conscience.
By the end of school, I’ve relaxed. I even figure Jason flirting with Ashley is good news, because it means he’s not taking the breakup so hard after all. Who cares if he pretends it was me who got dumped? He’s off my case. That’s what I’m thinking on my way home, anyway. The idea makes me so happy I turn my music way up and sing along.
I’m so into this other world I almost bump into him. He’s jumped the curb on his motorcycle and blocked the sidewalk. I pull out my earphones. “What do you want?”
“We have things to talk about.”
A heartbeat, then loud and firm: “You’re not getting it back. And if you don’t leave me alone—right now—I’m taking it to the cops.”
“Sure you are,” he mocks. “You don’t want people seeing those pictures any more than I do.”
I toss my head. “Don’t count on it.”
He smiles. “I admire your guts, breaking into my room like that, busting my computer. Mom saw me haul it out of the pool. Told her I tripped carrying it across my room, and it fell out the window. She bought it.”
“She’ll buy anything.”
“Great, eh?” He grins. “Explaining your cell was tricky, though. It plugged our toilet. Nice touch. I have a whole new respect for you.”
“Save it for someone who gives a shit.” I start to move around him.
“Hey, come on, don’t be such a tease.”
I’m past him.
“Where’re you going?”
I don’t answer. I don’t look back. I move fast. He revs his engine. He starts following me, slow, motor almost idling. He could run me down if he wanted. “You’re not supposed to be on the sidewalk,” I say, hard.
He laughs, guns his motorcycle onto the road, races to the end of the block and wheels around to face me. I turn and start walking back the way I came. I hear him gun the engine. He rides past me, turns back up onto the sidewalk and faces me again. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Get lost, Jason.”
“That’s my girl,” he winks. “Make me hot.”
I spit at him, but nothing comes out. My mouth’s too dry.
“I wouldn’t do that again.”
“Oh, really? You want to beat me up on a public street? Go ahead. There’ll be witnesses. I wouldn’t be