Page 75 of Come As You Are

Salem looks down at me, a smile playing on his lips. “Did you just lie about us having sex in order to look cool? Youarea Rumson guy.”

“Oh, shut up.” I dig an elbow into his side, and he laughs. “He started it.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I like where your mind’s at.”

I roll my eyes, but kiss him anyway. I’ve already told him I’m not ready to move at the speed he did with Jenna—and unlike Lucas, he was perfectly cool with it—but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. Constantly. Which he does not need to know. Yet.

“I’m gonna get us seats,” he says as my turn comes up on the waffle line, giving my fingers a quick brush with his. I allow myself a few seconds to watch his butt as he goes, then treat myself to a perfect golden waffle I fully intend to bury inwhipped cream and berries. I get my bliss back for all of one minute before yet another boy swoops in to ruin it with the worst four-word sentence in the English language.

“We need to talk.”

Salem’s been gone for two seconds, and already I’m regretting letting him leave my side. “What could I possibly have to say to you, Lucas?” God, there reallyaretrash boys everywhere you look, but I guess I’m evolving because I sure can pick ’em out now.

“Can we please talk somewhere else?” He touches my arm as he asks, and I instinctively pull it away. It’s amazing how quickly you can go from dying for someone to kiss you to finding their touch utterly repulsive.

“No, right here’s good, if youmustsay something.” The line moves down, and I grab the whipped cream and spray on thick spirals. “Though if this is about Heather, no, I haven’t said a word.”

“It’s not about Heather,” he says through gritted teeth, even though I haven’t seen her in the room. “It’s—did you do it because of me?”

I move on down the table toward the berries and pour on a pile. “Dowhatbecause of you?”

“The window.” He gestures down at my ankle, still wrapped in an Ace bandage and surrounded by a boot. “Did you throw yourself out of a window because of me?”

I blink. “Are you for real?”

“Can you just answer the question?”

I glance past him at my table, where Salem’s doing something on his phone, paying no attention to me and Lucas. He’s got a green apple in hand, and his hair hanging in his eyes, and all I want to do is brush it back into place. Truly, I do not have time for a minute more of Lucas Burke’s bullshit.

“I didn’t throw myself out of a window, period,” I snap, keeping my voice low, “but even if I had, rest assured that your being a lying, cheating asshole would not be the reason. You’re someone else’s problem now, much as I think she deserves way, way better than you.”

If my venomous response has fazed him at all, it doesn’t show. “You better not say a word to her.”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t, and I won’t, because I’m not interested in hurting her, and you’re the person she should find out from. Personally, I think Heather deserves better than being lied to. Ididtellmyboyfriend.” God, that feels good. “But you do you, as long as you do it far the fuck away from me.”

His eyes are burning a hole in my back as I make my way toward Salem, but he doesn’t stop me, and I don’t turn around. I can’t prevent him from being in my English class or dating my friend, and I’ll have to see him around far more than I’d like (read: ever), but he’s taken all he’s going to get from me, and he doesn’t get another minute.

Bad Apple Evie is racking up a whole lotta points this morning.

Salem looks up as I put my tray down, and he gestures to where his phone lies on the table. “You didn’t get my text, I take it.”

“Like, just now? No.” I pull out my phone, and sure enough, there’s a message from Salem.

Want me to kill him and make it look like an accident?

I bite my lip to stop an embarrassing smile from spreading over my face as Salem takes another bite of his apple, the juice spraying onto my cheek. He wipes it off gently with his thumb, and I send my own reply text:

Wanna cut English and make out?

He laughs as his phone buzzes with the message, and we text-flirt through the rest of breakfast. When we do head out to English—a far inferior choice to my plan, but whatever—I see Lucas taking stock of us from across the room, registering exactly who my boyfriend is, a.k.a. the only other person on campus who knows his secret.

I should probably warn Salem before they face each other on the court tomorrow night.

Although, who am I kidding—Salem could wipe the floor with him.

And I’ll be there to cheer him on when he does it.

Word must travel fast, because Isabel catches up with me on my way back to Rumson from Baking Club, helps herself toone of the raspberry scones in the box I’m transporting, and says, “So, you finally pulled your head out of your ass. Congratulations.”

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