Page 87 of Room to Breathe

“No,” I said.

He jumped off his board with a laugh and threw an arm around my shoulder in a side hug.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“About what?” he asked.

I looked around. Was this really the place? I had a feeling Cody wouldn’t care one way or the other where this was done, but I cared. After shoving my book into my backpack, I took his hand and led him away from his friends to a more secluded breezeway nearby. I leaned one shoulder against the wall and he followed suit, facing me.

“We need to break up,” I spit out, not wanting to drag this on. I didn’t have the emotional capacity for a drawn-out goodbye.

“Break up?” he asked, once again reminding me that we had never really defined our relationship as anything more than hangout sessions with kissing.

“Stop seeing each other,” I clarified.

“Why? Because I jumped your book?” After saying that, he gave a goofy laugh, like he hadn’t meant to say something inappropriate about my book but had.

“No, not because…well, actually, yes, sort of. We’re not compatible.”

“But I like you,” he said. I was surprised he was putting up any sort of resistance. I thought he’d tell me he didn’t know we were together and that he was talking to three other girls, so it didn’t matter. It kind of felt nice to be liked. I hadn’t felt liked in a while.

I shook my head. No. That wasn’t enough. And I wasn’t even sure it was true. He didn’t really know me. He liked kissing me, but not much else. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“Is this about that guy I flipped off?” he asked.

“What?”

“That guy from the party.”

“Beau?” I asked.

“The one who stared daggers at me through the tutoring center windows when I was kissing you,” he said. “The jealous one.”

“He wasn’t jealous,” I said. “He was just a friend. But we’re not anymore. And no, this has nothing to do with him.”

He laughed again. I didn’t know why that laugh made me angry. Only that everything seemed to make me angry these days. I sighed.

“Okay, well, see ya.” I turned and walked away. And even though I knew I was now more alone than ever, for the first time in a while I felt some relief.

Chapter 37

Now

My eyes narrowed in onthe wheel marks across the cover of my calculus book. I ran my finger along them. I’d been working on the packet assigned to me by Mrs. Dulaney. It wasn’t the only packet I was working on this week. I had one for every class. Because along with my parents grounding me, my punishment for destroying the school’s lock bag wasn’t a monetary fine like we assumed it would be. It was a week of suspension, where I’d been stuck doing homework and watching online lectures in my bedroom. It seemed extreme, but considering my other offenses this year, they probably wanted to enact a stricter punishment than the last one. Or maybe they looked at me, at my family, differently ever since my dad’s story came out.

I hadn’t seen anyone outside of my parents in a week. I literally hadn’t left my house since last Saturday. I was dying to get my phone back. I had no idea how Beau was feeling outside of the confines of the bathroom and after talking to Ava and Caroline. He probably thought I ghosted him. That wasn’t going to help anything between us.

After declaring to my mom that I wanted to try to fix my friendship with him, this wasn’t exactly a good start.

My calculus book was sitting on top of my history book, and once again I noted how one had the library barcode and the other one didn’t. Had Mrs. Dulaney bought this book for me with her own money? Or the librarian, Ms. Garcia? I’d have to ask her. Pay her back if she had. I tried to remember that day she put it on my desk. Had she hinted at buying it? I had not been very grateful.

I sucked in some air and sat up straight in my chair as a thought occurred to me. I pulled the book toward me and flipped open the cover. Then I leafed through the pages, looking for…I wasn’t sure…a clue? A note?

I found it at the beginning of the unit we’d been studying when I got this book. He probably thought I wouldn’t miss it. That I’d open the book to this unit to study that day or that week. That was several weeks ago. I hadn’t opened the book until this week, this unit. I hadn’t seen the note.

I pulled it out now. It was on an index card and just said four words:Can we talk? Please?

The words were in Beau’s handwriting.