Abby ditches me on the ride home. She wants to sit with Josie again, so I pick a seat in the back of the bus. I’m flipping through my photos, deciding which ones I will send to Nick, when someone says, “Can I sit here?” and I smile and say, “Go right ahead.”
But it isn’t Nick. It’s Michael Wong.
I frown up at him. “Don’t you want to sit with my sister? Work things out?”
He makes a quick little grimace. “She and I need to give each other some space.”
We ride for a while in silence until I can’t hold back the obvious question. “What’d you do?” Although I feel like I can guess. Like Leo, Michael Wong’s a cheater. And he made Afton an accomplice.
“Do?” Michael repeats, like he has no idea.
“To get Afton mad at you?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I told her—” He stops himself. “She’s crazy, that’s all.”
I sit up straighter. “Don’t call my sister crazy. She may be a lot of things, but crazy’s not one of them.”
“Okay, yeah, sorry,” he says, although he clearly doesn’t mean it. “She can just be a little intense, is all.”
Normally, I’d agree.
But not today. “What is it with guys saying girls are crazy, just because we have feelings and sometimes we dare to show you what they are? That doesn’t make us crazy. Crazy is a messed-up, ableist word, anyway. I mean, guys act like they’re clueless morons half the time, but we don’t go around saying you’re stupid, do we?”
Okay, maybe we do.
Now Michael’s looking at me like I’m the crazy one.
“I’m just saying, if Afton called you a douchebag—although I don’t approve of douchebag as an insult, either, because it’s misogynistic, but that’s fine, whatever—if she called you that, it’s probably accurate.”
I’m pleased with myself that I even had the guts to say this.
Kahoni is coming down the aisle handing everyone a paper-wrapped coffee mug, an apology gift from the plantation for the mix-up with lunch. I take mine with a mumbled thanks and lean down to put it in my bag. When I sit up again, Michael has switched places with the guy in front of him. He’s putting headphones in—the fancy wireless kind that make it look like snot is dripping out of his ears. Then he starts bobbing his head to some music I can’t hear.
I kick the back of his chair.
The ride back to the hotel goes quickly this time, since we didn’t go far. When I stand up to exit the bus, Nick stands up, too, from the seat directly behind mine.
I didn’t even know he was there.
He’s staring at me. He clearly heard everything I said to Michael.
“Oh, great,” I moan. “You’re going to call me crazy now, too.”
“I would never.” He presses his hand into his chest. “No, I thought that was totally badass.” We lumber down the steps of the bus, and Abby comes running up.
“Hi, Nick,” she says almost shyly, gazing up at him through her eyelashes.
That was obviously some granola bar.
I notice Michael is standing with the rest of his family. He notices me, too, and actually turns his back so he won’t have to look at me.
“I think Michael’s scared of you now,” Abby says observantly.
Nick nods. “You owned him. I am both frightened and admiring, trust me.”
“Yeah, well, he deserved it.” I ruffle Abby’s flyaway hair. “Nobody gets to mess with my sisters but me.”