Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [64]
“I think I’m done street fighting for a bit,” I said and he smiled at me.
“Good.”
“So, why were you out of school this week?” I asked, peeling the label off my iced tea. This time Brendan was the one who looked uncomfortable, and changed the subject.
“What did you think of last week’s chem test?”
I noticed that he steered the conversation to teachers we liked, teachers we disliked, teachers we really disliked, upcoming midterm exams—all safe topics.
“I aced Latin freshman year,” he said after I confessed that Latin was my Achilles’ heel, so to speak. “I can tutor you if you need help. Mrs. Dell hasn’t changed her midterm in years. I still have it somewhere, so if you want, I’ll help you study.”
“Thanks.” I grinned, more thrilled at the prospect of time with Brendan than the promise of pulling my grades up. “It’s the only subject I’m having trouble in.”
“I’m happy to help,” Brendan said, then smiled a naughty smile. “Too bad you don’t need tutoring in French.”
“I’m quite good at French, thank you very much.” I threw a little attitude into my reply, and Brendan grinned devilishly. But if it made him want to find out if I was bluffing, he didn’t act on it. Maybe he just likes me as a friend? A very touchy-feely, stroke-my-face friend?
“Hey, kids, off the rocks,” a security guard called, breaking our mood as he flashed a light at us from between the bars of the fence.
Brendan and I tried to hide our guilty laughter as we wrapped up the empty food containers while the annoyed-looking guard stood there, tapping his foot.
After Brendan helped me over the stone wall, the guard gave him a dirty look.
“The fence is there for a reason, kids. That’s a 130-foot drop.”
“Sorry,” we both mumbled around our smiles, as we headed back down from the castle.
“Hey, what time is it?” Brendan asked as we shuffled along the path. I checked my cell phone.
“Nine thirty-six,” I said. Wow. We’d been together for almost four hours. I was glad I’d only drank the one small iced tea or else I’d had to have found a bathroom somewhere in the park. Like that wouldn’t have been awkward.
“I need to get you out of here at a respectable hour if you’re going to agree to see me tomorrow.”
“So what is the plan for tomorrow, anyway?” I asked, tossing a peppermint Mentos into my mouth in an obvious hint.
“Wait for me to ask you like a good boy,” he retorted playfully, grabbing the roll of candy and taking one, leaving me hoping that he picked up on my obvious hint.
“You just got me in trouble with security.” I jokingly pouted. “Some good boy you are.”
We slowly ambled through the dark park, listening to the crunch underneath our feet as we shuffled through the fallen leaves. Brendan, after dropping the Chinese food containers in a wastebasket as we exited the park, reached out and took my left hand. Finally!
“Where does your aunt live?” he asked, his hand warm against my slightly chilly palm.
“Sixty-eighth, right off Park,” I replied. “Are you near there?”
“No, I live downtown. I just needed to know where to walk you home. I have to walk you home, you see. All part of being a good boy now,” he teased, giving my hand a squeeze. I grinned back, and Brendan started walking even more slowly. I got the feeling he was trying to delay our goodbye.
Wordlessly, we strolled, the only communication being Brendan squeezing my hand every now and then. Every squeeze jolted me, triggering emotions stronger than any I’d ever known.
“Is this it?” he asked after we had crossed Madison, the wind whipping his black locks around.
“Almost,” I said, still walking. “It’s the next building.” I started to take another step but he had stopped in his tracks, still holding my hand. Brendan pulled me back, tucking me into the darkened service entrance of the building next door.
My breath quickened as he drew me closer to him, releasing my hand and winding