Page 64 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Joel checks his watch. “I think I’m going to go to the cafeteria for some lunch. Want to go?”

I look at the time on my phone. 12:30. Lunch has just started at school. I wish I was hanging out with Sam and Bek in the cafeteria instead of sitting vigil here. I shake my head. “I’m not really hungry. Maybe I’ll grab something from the cart.” I point to the rolling junk food cart the volunteer graciously invited us to partake in.

“Okay, I’ll be back.”

I watch my brother walk away, and when he’s out of sight, let my head fall against the wall and rest my eyes. It has already been the longest day of my life and it’s only half over.

“Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”

I open my eyes to glare at the person asking, knowing there are plenty of empty seats available. But my mouth drops open when I find Dylan smiling down at me. “Oh! What are you doing here?”

He perches on the seat Joel just vacated and turns toward me. His unruly hair flops over his eyes. The collar of his t-shirt is frayed. The elbows on his leather jacket are worn. One of his shoes is untied. I’ve never seen him look more adorable. He shakes his bangs out of his eyes before speaking.

“I couldn’t get our conversation out of my mind. It didn’t feel like we got to finish it.”

I arch my brows. “So, you came to the hospital to continue it?”

His mouth flaps like a fish out of water before he finally says, “Well, I mean, kind of. Not that particular conversation, I guess. But when I didn’t see you today after first period, I found your friend and asked where you were. She was kind of cagey about her answer, so I told her that you told me about your mom and that I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I just stare at him because that didn’t really explain why he was at the hospital.

He bends forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I…um…I was worried about you. I had to come make sure you were okay. But now that I’m here, I feel like a stalker, so I’ll go.”

He pops to his feet, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“No! You’re not a stalker!” I jump up too, ready to tackle him if I have to. “It was really nice of you to come.” Now I’m facing him with my arms crossed over my chest. Anybody looking would probably think we don’t want to be talking to each other. “Um, but are you skipping class? There’s no way you can get back before lunch is over in ten minutes.”

“I have a free after lunch. I usually go home.”

“Oh.” That would explain why I only saw him that one time. “My brother’s…” Just then, Joel strolls back into the waiting room, carrying a paper cup with a straw sticking out of the top. “Right there. He’s back from lunch already.”

Joel frowns as he approaches. “What the hell is he doing here?”

My stomach clenches at Joel’s tone. I glance at Dylan to see if he’s getting ready to throw a punch to defend his honor or anything, but Dylan’s expression is void of emotion as he waits for me to answer my brother.

“He came to see how things are going.” I haven’t spoken to Joel about Dylan since he’d told me he thought Dylan was trouble. And honestly, I probably wouldn’t have changed his mind even if I had spoken to him. Clearly, my brother has very strong opinions.

Joel narrows his eyes. “Why would he care?”

I huff. Sure, Joel is acting like a big brother. But like a jerky big brother. “We were talking about it yesterday and he wanted to make sure everything was okay. Stop acting like a caveman.”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Did you just stand up for him?”

My back is straight. “I was actually standing up for myself.” I gesture for Dylan to follow me. “Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria. Joel, text if the doctor comes out.”

He grunts and watches us leave with a menacing expression on his face.

“Sorry about that. Joel only knows you from your reputation.”

“No wonder it looked like he wanted to pound me.” Dylan grimaces. “I take it you guys are close?”

“We are. He’s one of the main reasons I’m sane.” I laugh humorlessly.

“You’re lucky to have him. And I’m sure he’s lucky to have you, too.” We finally find the cafeteria. Dylan walks to the self-serve soda machine. “Do you want one? My treat.”

“Um, sure, thanks.” I grab a cup, dispense some ice, fill it almost full of cola, and then top it off with lemonade. I pop on a lid and slide a straw through the slits of the top. Dylan laughs at me as he fills his to the top with a single flavor. I shrug. “I like lemon in my soda!”

He holds a hand up in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

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