Page 93 of Wicked Dreams

“I don’t hate Amelie,” he answers. “And I’m not into her. But…”

But, what? The way he stops has me grinding my teeth in frustration. I don’t like not knowing things, and this seems like a juicy secret.

“We’re not here to discuss this,” he finishes.

The wall he usually hides behind is back. The time to decide is now.

I take his arm. “If this goes badly—it was all your idea.”

He winks. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

This is not going to end well.

He glances at his watch as we walk across the soccer field. “Not necessarily the best timing. But good enough for me.”

There are a lot of people at this farmers’ market. More than I thought would show up on a Saturday morning. There’s a food truck parked in the corner with a long line, and almost all the vendors are packed.

The silence comes in waves. First the people closest to us, and then the screeching halt of the rest of the crowd rolls down like dominoes. He leads me down the first row of vendors, glancing in them with a casualness I try to embody.

“Pretend you like me,” he says through his teeth.

Clearly, I’m failing.

I swallow my apprehension and inch closer, smiling up at him. “You look like you swallowed a box of staples.”

He laughs.Loudly.

And somehow, he manages to ignore everyone else around us. We turn a corner, to the picnic tables the smokers usually occupy at lunch and after school. There are no smokers there today—just Caleb, with Amelie perched beside him. Eli. Liam. And Ian fucking Fletcher.

I really hate that guy.

My grip on Theo’s arm tightens, and he pats my fingers. It’s not really comforting, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

They notice us one at a time.

Liam’s eyebrows skyrocket.

Eli does a double take.

Amelie is talking, fiddling with Caleb’s sleeve. She spots us, and her jaw drops.

Then Caleb, but I can’t even look at him.

Murmurs break out around us.

“You know,” Theo whispers, tipping his head toward mine, “you’re really putting a wrench in the middle of my friend group.”

“Did I walk into a trap?” He’s quite a bit taller than Caleb. “Is your plan to say, ‘Ha, ha, I tricked Margo?’”

He smiles. “Not at all.”

And then Caleb is on us, shoving Theo away from me. The force of it must surprise Theo, because he staggers backward. I get the impression that Theo isn’t one easily moved. He releases me, though, so I don’t get dragged with him.

Theo’s face transforms into a mask of anger, and he lunges forward. I don’t even think he’sthatmad at Caleb—they just want an excuse to hit each other.

Someone pulls me out of the way.

I glance back, surprised at the firm grip that tows me around the market, back toward the cars.

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