Page 47 of August Lane
August offered him the other half of her sandwich. He didn’t take it. “I’m good.”
“No, you aren’t.” She refused to lower her hand. Her eyes said the sandwich wasn’t just a sandwich. It was commiseration. He was in her territory now, on the bad side of rumors with staying power.
He accepted it and took a large bite. It was gooey white bread slathered with more mustard than cheese or bologna. He gulped it down and prayed he didn’t choke. “You make this yourself?”
“Don’t be an asshole.” She bit her apple, and a piece of hair nearly caught in her mouth. Her loose ponytail was gradually working its way free of whatever she’d used to hold it back. He wanted to fix it for her, smooth the runaway strand back into the rest.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go home,” she said.
Luke took another bite to put off answering. He’d been looking for a safe place; home was never that. “I usually give Jessica a ride.”
Her expression shuttered slightly. “Why were you fighting over her?”She eyed her apple like the exposed core was more interesting than his answer. “Did she cheat on you with Richard?”
“No.” The second question was easier to answer than the first. He’d been fighting over a girl, yes, but not the one everyone assumed. Luke had finally admitted that to himself last night. He’d thrown that punch for August. Because Richard had tricked her into having sex. The scariest part was how good it’d felt. Like he was made for that kind of destruction.
Jessica had screamed at him later. Her dining room had been a fishbowl with people watching them behind glass doors. Luke hadn’t said a word. He’d absorbed every accusation like a sponge. Eventually Jessica lowered her voice and asked, “Is this about August Lane?”
The guilt he’d been ignoring surged forward, and he rocked back in his seat, trying to escape it. “Why do you keep bringing her up?”
“I saw how you looked at her.” Her voice was tight, poised to shout again. “You’re fucking her, aren’t you.”
“No!” Luke tried to wave off the accusation with his good hand, but his movements felt slow and unconvincing. The county fair, the notebook, the music he’d written her. Strung together, it was obvious what he’d been doing. “I’m not sleeping with August.”
“You want to,” she said. “She’s not Jojo, you know. Her pussy won’t get you closer to fame.”
“Why would you say that?” Luke tried to reconcile the girl he cared about with the bitter person looming over him. He never thought she saw him clearly, but maybe it was mutual. Maybe they’d both been dating someone else. “You think we’re all like Richard? Using people for clout?”
Her glare was acid. “You’re not better than me.”
“I never said that’s what you—”
“You don’t say anything, Luke. And I’m sick of waiting for you to.”
It was an official dumping, “I quit” via a weekend-long ghosting paired with the silent treatment during class that morning. Their only interaction had been her eye flick in his direction when someone mentioned sending Richard a care package. Jessica flipped her braid back and volunteered to help.
“I ruined her birthday,” Luke admitted to August. It felt like one of his more egregious offenses. Jessica had been talking about the party all month, eyes glittering with joy that made him jealous. Luke dreaded his birthdays. Ava made them feel like a chore. “She didn’t deserve that.”
“Richard did,” August said, with a devilish grin that made her even cuter. Luke barely suppressed his own smile. He didn’t want to joke about hitting someone, but August’s moods were infectious. She made wallowing in guilt feel like a wasted effort.
“Coach suspended me from three games,” he said, which had seemed like a big deal when it happened. Now it sounded silly. No football for a month. Some punishment.
“You hate playing anyway.”
“No, I don’t,” Luke lied, but then remembered what he’d admitted at the fair. “Okay, I do, but I hate being suspended from anything. Everyone will know why I’m not out there.”
“And they’ll talk about it,” August said quietly. “Behind your back.”
He realized how he must have sounded to her, whining about the same thing she dealt with every day. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You can’t hide in here forever.” She started gathering her things. “The fall play is coming up. And the toilet’s broken, so unless you plan to shit in a bucket, you’ll have to show your face in public again.”
He watched her toss her trash with growing panic. “Don’t go.”
“You’ll be fine.” She was talking to herself now, eyes on anything in the room except him. “Just make another touchdown, and everyone will get amnesia. Or write her a song. Girls love hot guys with guitars.”
“August, stop.” She ignored him. He stood, heart pounding, and grabbed her hand. “Don’t leave.” She jerked away. Luke’s face caught fire, and he stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you. But I want you to stay.”
“Why?” She rubbed her palm where he’d touched it. “We’re not…”
