Page 85 of Whatever It Takes
We move along, out of her sight.
“So there are vending machines in the middle of each hall,” I tell her. “We can grab some waters before first period.” I’ll see her in second period, Calculus. Our first periods are different.
She’ll be okay.
She left Maine all by herself, didn’t she? Bravery exists somewhere inside of her. She just needs to remember that.
Two guys crash against my right shoulder with complete disregard. It knocks me into Willow. I catch onto her waist so we don’t both slam into the floor.
Shit.
She stiffens but holds onto me for support too. Once we’re stabilized, I take my hands off her and try to find the two assholes. I spin around.
“Really?” I snap, extending my arms at them, but as soon as they turn to face me, my arms drop immediately. One of the guys—he’s a friend-of-a-friend who I’ve fallen out with.
He flips me off. “Watch it, Abbey,” Pat Hayes snaps. Honestly, I expected worse than a shoulder-check and the middle finger.
“No thanks,” I rebut and then walk forward, away from them. Willow keeps my pace. I glance at her.You okay?
She seems a little shaken.
The universe is basically saying:Garrison Abbey, you’re the shittiest welcome committee. Take a backseat and let someone who’s actually well-liked show this sweet girl around.
I don’t want to hurt her.
Still, the thing I’ve always sucked at is leaving people when I should. I end up staying too long, too late. I’m not going to leave Willow alone, not now.
Maybe I should at least tell her I’m cursed.
I hear Pat huff angrily behind me, still enraged. He’s captain of our crew team, an adversary of Dalton’s lacrosse team. Our football team is shit, so all the country club sports are put on pedestals. Dalton’s track, swimming, tennis, crew, lacrosse and equestrian teams are all top in the state.
Pat shouts, “You ran into me, Abbey!”
Bullshit.
I say loudly without turning around, “If that’s what you think, then maybe don’t have a fireside chat in the middle of the hall.”
Pat shouts out a “fuck you” before a nearby teacher scolds him for his language. We’re too far away from one another to keep combating. Thankfully.
Willow keeps muttering “sorry” every five seconds, and by the time we make it to her locker, I feel relieved for her. She wipes her forehead with the back of her arm. A strand of her hair is still stuck to her damp cheek.
I motion to her face. “Can I…you have something…?”
She’s confused for a second and tentatively nods at me.
I pick the strand off and tuck it behind her ear.
She swallows once and stares at her feet and then her locker.
“Are you going to pass out on me?” I ask with concern, already trying to figure out the distance from her locker to the nurse’s.
I think I could carry her there, no problem.
Willow shakes her head. “I’m not good at this…I forgot to warn you.” Maybe she means that she’s not good at being the new girl in a school full of strangers. Or maybe even more general: being surrounded by a lot of people at one time.
“You’re doing alright.”
She glances at her skirt. “How’s the bow?”
