“Hey, Piper.” Holly hurries up behind me. I blink. Rick Sabatini is loping at her side. I want to bang my head against the wall and howl. A quick glance assures me his attention is all for Holly.
“Edgar.” She slides smoothly between us. I have to move to the side since Sabatini is adhered to her like glue.
“How are you, Holly?” he responds.
Several disgusted looks are thrown in our direction. We’re taking up most of the hallway but no one wants to anger Fahrenbacher or get on the bad side of the new girl.
Holly turns to me. “Better pick up the pace. Class starts in four minutes.”
Edgar looks directly at me. “I’ll be seeing you,” he says before he lopes off towards his class.
“Oh joy,” I mutter to his back.
“What was that about?” Holly asks.
“He’s decided on a new method of torture for me. Instead of beating me up, he wants to”—I search for the right word: Seduce? Rape? Who knows. I settle on—“get to know me better.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Won’t Tyler love that?”
We hurry into the classroom and sit in two available seats next to each other. Sabatini sighs and wanders to the front of the classroom where seats are always available.
I look around, spot Tyler, and smile. He gives me a cool nod.
I sigh. What now? Relationships are so complicated. I turn my attention to Miss Sweeney who today is talking about Romeo and Juliet. Not one of my favorite couples. It’s not that I don’t appreciate a romantic gesture as much as the next person, but to kill yourself because your significant other’s dead? What’s the sense in that?
I occasionally glance at Tyler, but he never makes eye contact. Something is up. When the class ends and he turns to chat with the redhead next to him, I get seriously concerned. I follow Holly out. He makes no attempt to catch up.
I’m starting to get pissed. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this. Maybe he’s taking me for a ride after all. Surely it’s not because I won’t tell him my secret.
Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. I make no further effort to see my supposed boyfriend. If this is what a relationship is, I’m not sure I want it. I fight the pain underneath the anger. My heart doesn’t really hurt. That would be totally silly. I just have indigestion.
Several times, I feel him stealing glances at me. I ignore him as completely as he did me.
When the last bell rings, I head out. Tyler is standing at the door, kids streaming by him. As I start to walk by him, he falls into step beside me.
“Hey.”
I ignore him.
He takes my arm and tugs me out of the way of the kids hurrying out. We stop on the edge of the sidewalk.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Fine.” I snap.
“Are you upset?”
“No, but you obviously are. And I have no idea why.”
“Don’t you?”
“No. I don’t.”
“It’s pretty evident this relationship doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me.”
“That’s so not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
We stare at each other.
“No,” I respond hotly, my nails clenched into my fist.
“You’re like some mystery woman. You hide the fact you’re beautiful. You even change your voice. What’s going on? You always hold a part of yourself back. I don’t know who you are. A relationship demands trust.”
I go cold inside. It’s come to this. “I shouldn’t have to. If you—” I can’t bring myself to use the L word. It’s not something Gramps and I ever say, we just know it. “If you care about me like you say you do, it wouldn’t be necessary. You’d trust me and it would be enough. Apparently, my definition of caring is different from yours.” I turn and walk stiffly away, my bones brittle as if they could snap on me if I move too hastily.
I feel the weight of his hot gaze but keep moving. It’s over.
“Piper,” he calls. I keep going. I was a fool to ever let myself get into a relationship. I’m going to fall apart and I want to be home when I do it. I want to get to Gramps.
I make it to my truck and climb into the seat. Hunched over the steering wheel, I grip it, biting my lips together. “I will not cry. I will not cry.” I keep repeating the mantra, anxious to get to my grandparent. He’ll offer some words of wisdom, put everything in perspective and even if I still hurt like hell, I’ll feel better than I do now. And there are my dolphins to think about. Who’ll protect them if I fall apart?
I jack up the volume of the radio, hoping to drown the pain. My head misses the ceiling as I turn onto the dirt lane and hit the pothole no one has bothered to fix. “Almost there, almost there.” My lips mutter the words in time to the music.
Finally, I’m home. I jump out of the truck, slam the door, and run to the house. “Gramps.” My voice cracks. I stop and take a deep breath. No point in letting him know how upset I am. “Gramps.” My voice still sounds a little crackly. I give a little cough and try again. “Gramps.”
There’s no answer. I’m starting to get a little freaked. His truck is outside. Maybe he’s in the back. I look outside, no Gramps. Now, I’m seriously worried. I head to the living room; there’s no sign of him. My pulse rate picks up and my heart starts to beat hard. “Gramps.”
I run to the kitchen. “Gramps.” There’s a pot of water sitting on the stove, boiling. Pasta sits next to it. I turn it off.
Maybe he’s just in the bathroom. I rush to the tiny bathroom and knock on the door. “Gramps?”
No answer here either. I feel lightheaded.
I race to his bedroom and screech to a halt in the doorway. “Gramps!” I scream.