Page 79 of Inception

“I think he’s still in the locker room.” He gestured over his shoulder and smiled. “I can go get him for you.”

“That’s alright, thanks. I’ll just wait for him over there,” I said, and ambled off in the direction of the changing rooms. I mean really, how long could it take for a guy to change his clothes?

I leaned my back against the wall, fully intent on waiting for him outside in the hallway. That is, until I heard the muffled whispers of two distinct voices coming from the other side of the door—a male and female. Voices that I was almost certain belonged to Caleb andNikki.

Truthfully, it was none of my business why Caleb and Nikki were hanging out together in the boy’s locker room, and I should have turned around and booked it, but somehow, I just couldn’t get my feet to obey. Maybe she was talking about me, or plotting her next assault against me, all of which were perfectly valid reasons why I had the right to know what was going on behind that door.

At least that’s what I kept telling myself when I cracked open the door and peered in through the slit.

It took every ounce of restraint I had not to burst out screaming as I watched Nikki fist her hands into Caleb’s shirt and push him back against the locker door like some rabid dog in heat before sealing her mouth against his in a kiss. And not just any kiss, a hands-all-over-your-body-tongue-in-each-other’s-mouth kiss that made me want to wash my eyes out with bleach.

What the hell.Nikki and Caleb? How? When? I couldn’t think of a single time I saw them talking to each other, let alone give out signals that they were into each other. And what about Trace? How could she bethatcrazy possessive about him one minute and then be out here making out with his friend the next?

Something about this smelled foul—and it wasn’t just the stink coming out of the boy’s locker room. I shut the door and made a run for the parking lot.

I wasn’t sure whether I was going to tell Trace about what I’d just witnessed in the changing rooms. According to him, he wasn’t even with Nikki anymore, so did he still have the right to know about her after-school extracurricular activities with Caleb? And if so, was it my place to say something?

Confused, and kind of grossed out, I headed across the student parking lot to meet up with Trace. I found him leaning against the side of his car, talking with Ben. Both were still wearing their school uniforms—minus their ties and blazers. I was actually relieved to see Ben there, for about a second, because at least I could postpone the Nikki thing.

“Nice of you to show up,” said Ben with a Cheshire grin plastered across his face.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you,” I shot back, adjusting my schoolbag. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah, neither did I.” His grin deepened as if he had a secret. “Believe me, Jem, chaperoning the two of you isn’t my idea of a good time either.”

“Chaperoning us?” I looked over at Trace who was now glaring murderously at Ben.

Was this his idea of a joke?

As much as I liked Ben, there was no way we would be able to talk openly if he was tagging along with us the entire time. Had Trace even considered that in his idiotic rush to make sure we weren’t alone—which issoobviously what he was trying to do.

“At first I was like, nope, ain’t gonna happen,” continued Ben, shaking his head. “But when he told me you knew, that he already spoke to you, there was no way I was missing my chance.”

“Your chance to do what?” If this was about ragging on me about Trace or those two guys from Easton, or the chemistry book thing from this morning, I was turning around and walking home.

“To hear the truth,” he answered simply. “Straight from the source.”

“The truth?” What the heck was he talking about?

“You should hear some of the stuff they’ve been saying about you. It’s hard to tell the truth from the rumors.”

“Rumors? What rumors? There’s rumors about me?”

“Crazy rumors. You riding shotgun or what?” he asked as he threw his schoolbag into the backseat and stood in front of the open passenger door, waiting.

There was no point in sitting next to Trace now. Besides, I was almost positive I wouldn’t have been able to resist smacking him in the head at that close range.

“Go ahead.” I pulled the front seat forward and climbed into the back feeling frustrated and confused.

Trace slid into the driver’s seat without saying anything and adjusted his rear-view mirror until our eyes met. I rolled my eyes at him and then sunk back in my seat, ignoring the prickling sparks I was feeling all over my body.

I wasreallystarting to hate those sparks.

23. RIDING IN CARS WITH BOYS

“So these rumors,” I asked Ben as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about? Because if this is about Nikki, I’d rather not know.”

Ben turned to Trace, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were asking him a silent question.

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