Page 2 of The Lucky One

His smile faded. “Emily, I’m not flirting with you.”

“I know.” I cleared my throat. My paranoid brain was making me think he wanted to fool around with the naive little German exchange student too. My gaze drifted back to the corner where smoke swirled in the air from the joints. How come no teacher was stopping this?

Suddenly Aiden’s arm was around my shoulders, gently pushing me forward.

“Let’s get you away from this,” he said, pulling my eyes from the dark place I both hungered for yet never wanted to experience again.

I followed him into the school building. Hungry eyes awaited me like they had nothing better to do than stare me down. The murmurs were already picking up speed. “Look at her with someone else again. How desperate,” said a girl I had never seen before.

I quickly broke free of Aiden’s arm. The last thing I needed was another rumor added to the many truths whispered about me in the hallways. Apparently I had slept with six guys—three of them I didn’t even know, one a casual acquaintance, and the other two being the only boys I’d ever loved—only one of whom I actually had sex with. Walking arm in arm with tall, tan, cover-magazine-pretty Aiden would probably bring me up to the count of seven. Great.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” I mumbled.

Aiden glared at the girl, who immediately looked away. “I don’t care what they think,” he told me. “You’re part of the Fam.”

“Am I?” I scoffed. I hadn’t hung out with our friend group in ages.

“German...” Aiden turned oddly serious. “I wasn’t there for what happened, and considering what I heard, I assume it wasn’t easy. Who am I to judge if I don’t know the whole story?”

“Other people don’t care about that.”

“Screw what other people think, cariño.”

“Okay,” I said.

But it was easier said than done. I knew I should be thankful for Aiden, but that was what I did now: expect the worst. Even though Jon hadn’t slept with me to win a bet, those few hours that I believed he did made me doubt everyone’s intentions... even my own.

We continued to walk down the hall for a bit. I froze in my steps when I caught a glimpse of Paul. He was smiling at everyone passing his way, shaking hands, being his usual charismatic self. The golden boy. The boyfriend material. And since last month, once again part of the much-admired football team.

“Emily?” Aiden waved his hand in front of me.

“Huh?” I darted behind him so Paul wouldn’t spot me.

“I asked if you want to come to a basketball game tonight. It’s been a while since the Fam got together, and I was thinking—”

“Will Paul be there?” I carefully peeked over his shoulder.

“Um, yeah, he—”

“Sorry, I need to go this way,” I said. Paul was walking up to us. I backed away, holding onto my bag like a life jacket. “Have fun at the game, but... I’m busy.” Faking a quick smile, I darted for Culinary Arts. It was still my favorite class, but even going there left a bitter flavor on my tongue these days.

When I reached the lockers Danielle waved and smiled at me. “Hi, girl,” she said, hands fluttering.

“Hi.” I put down my bag. The temperature dropped with the person standing behind her. Breana slammed her locker door and shot me an angry look before rushing off.

Another reason why I didn’t want to hang out with the Fam. Everyone hated my guts.

I sighed and opened my locker. Well, everyone except for Danielle and Aiden maybe. But Danielle would bring Timo, and Aiden would be surrounded by a bunch of girls. No, I wouldn’t go and just sit there all alone.

“How much longer are you two gonna be like that to each other?” Danielle asked, securing her chef’s hat in place. She inspected her eyeliner in a strategically glued mirror in her locker and tugged out a strand of hair to fall loosely around her face. Chef Sayle had reminded her multiple times to tuck all her hair under her chef’s hat but she pretended not to notice, and by now he had given up.

“I’m not the one ignoring her. You know that.” I grabbed my Culinary uniform out of my locker and started putting on my pants and jacket. They were a bit stained from the pasta sauce we’d made last week.

“I know, but if you tried to talk to her again, we both know she would give in.”

I closed my locker with the flat of my hand and turned to face her. “She’s pissed at me for what I did to Paul. She’s aware of the details and she decided not to be my friend anymore. End of story.” I glared at Danielle. My patience was so thin, the slightest spark could set off a fire.

“She’s going through a tough time because of what happened with Leni,” Danielle said.

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