Page 47 of Room to Breathe

“Must be,” I said.

Me not joking back wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with concern. “Why didn’t you sleep well?”

“I don’t know,” I said. I didn’t lie to my friends, especially not Beau, but it felt like that’s all I’d been doing for the past ten days. I hated it. I wished I didn’t have to, but my parents talking about money last night and canceling vacations had only driven home how important my dad’s reputation was.

Speaking of canceling vacations. “Hey, Caroline, I don’t need to stay at your house Wednesday after all.” It was almost a relief to say that. To know that I didn’t have to try to lie and fake it for a couple of days.

“Oh no, why?” she said. “I had a whole movie lineup for us.”

“My dad couldn’t get away,” I said. Not a lie. “Work.”

“We should have a slumber party anyway,” Ava said. “It’s been forever.”

“No, it’s a school night,” I spit out, too fast and with too much anger in my voice. “And it’s still my mom’s birthday.” That sentence I tried to soften, but when Caroline gave me a wounded expression, I knew I hadn’t succeeded. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

At school, we greeted Harper and were walking to class when the sound of a skateboard glided alongside us.

“Hey, Indiana Jones,” Cody said, in front of everyone. “I didn’t get your number on Saturday.”

“And you’re not getting it now,” Beau chimed in.

“Seriously,” Harper said. “Keep on moving.”

I shot them both a look.

“Him?” Harper asked. “You’re not serious.”

“I’ll see you all later.” I peeled off from the group, still feeling guilty about my shortness in the car, and approached Cody. I needed a break from the guilt. A break from how guarded I had to be around my friends. Watching every word that came out of my mouth was exhausting.

“Are you going to yell at me too?” Cody asked.

“No.”

He stepped on the back of his board, popping it up so he could grab it by the bar between the front wheels. “You’re going to give me your number, then?”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Prank-call you,” he deadpanned.

“That’s what I thought,” I said right back.

“I’ll probably text you. And if you need to hear the sound of my voice, I could call you occasionally too.” He pulled out his phone like it was a given I was going to provide him with the information he was requesting.

He wasn’t wrong. I relayed my number to him, then said, “But don’t save me as Indiana Jones in there.”

He cringed. “Too late. But if you’re real nice, I’ll shorten it to Jones.”

“I better not be nice, then.”

He barked out a laugh. “Want a ride to class?”

I narrowed my eyes. “On that?”

He held up his board. “Yes, on this.”

“You’re not supposed to ride it on campus.”

“Do you always follow the rules?” he asked.