Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [43]
“I’m nervous,” Ashley confessed, looking at me cautiously as we walked the final stretch of blocks to school the next day. I knew how she felt—she didn’t want to be the subject of discussion, the focus of hundreds of eyes. Why is it always when someone is wronged, they’re suddenly more interesting?
“You’ll be fine,” I said, trying my best to reassure her. “You’re not the one who picks fights after school.”
“What are you going to do if you see Anthony?” she asked, worried.
“I’m avoiding him,” I said sheepishly. “Angelique already agreed to go outside for lunch with me indefinitely—as long as the weather cooperates.” I figured if I was out of the lunchroom—and left school through the annex—I could avoid any unnecessary Anthony encounters.
We crossed the street, and I noticed a familiar-looking figure leaning against the mailbox a few feet from the front entrance of the school. At first I didn’t recognize Brendan, since he had his mop of hair tucked under a wool cap.
Ashley gave me a big grin. At that moment, a classmate ran up to her, squealing.
“Oh, my God, Anthony totally had his butt handed to him! I can’t believe that cutie Brendan defended you!” Her giddy friend giggled, and I knew Ashley would be okay. She’d be the center of some good attention, for once. She gave me the thumbs-up, ran to the door—then whirled around and yelled, practically at the top of her lungs, “See you after school, Emma!”
Brendan heard my name and turned in my direction, lifting his chin in a nod as he had that first day in the quad. Nervously, I played with my necklace, dragging the charm back and forth on the chain. Finally I decided to take the first step.
I walked calmly toward him, feeling those green eyes pulling me in. I couldn’t figure out the expression on his face. He looked relieved—happy, even. But he also looked troubled. No, troubled isn’t quite right. Melancholic? I figured I should say thanks, again, for stepping in.
“I wanted to thank you again,” I said, staring up into his eyes, for once unobstructed by his dark locks, which were pulled back under his wool cap. Brendan’s eyebrows were black, with just enough arch that they were dramatic. His green eyes were like glittering emeralds, fringed by those enviable black lashes. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the chilly weather, two spots of color in his otherwise pale face.
“You don’t have to thank me again, Emma,” he said, shaking his head with that same puzzling expression on his face.
“Well, I want to.” I don’t know how you could have described the expression on my face. Hopeful? Pathetic? Falling in…something?
“I’m just glad I was there. I wish I had gotten there sooner.” I suddenly felt very shy, breaking his gaze to stare at my black Mary Janes. He tucked his finger under my chin and lifted my face so we were eye to eye again.
“Emma, is there anything else you want to tell me?”
His tone wasn’t nasty or rude, but I still felt like I’d been punched. “Should there be?” I asked, confused.
“I guess not.” Brendan sighed, shaking his head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Turning away from me, he pulled open the door to the school and walked inside. I stood there dumbfounded. Wasn’t he the one who had been ignoring me for the past week and a half?
I followed him into the building—but of course, I had to go to my dungeon, to the row of lockers reserved for unlucky freshmen and transfer students. And bridge trolls, which is what I felt like at this moment.
I was heading to class when I heard someone running behind me, furiously and quickly. I whipped around, fists up instinctively. Not that I had any idea what to do with them, but what if it was Anthony, coming for retribution?
“Emma, you didn’t call me! I have to see it on Facebook? What the hell, dude?” It was Cisco, looking worried and happy and excited all at once.
“I’m sorry—I’m a terrible friend.” I gave him a weak little frown.
“But a great older cousin. Holy crap, that was amazing. I can’t believe that you just went up there to him and called him out like that,” he said, breaking out in a short round