Page 12 of Beautiful Lies
He wasn’t just looking at me, he was looking straight through me.He sees me, I thought.
“I get it,” he said, his voice low.
“Get what?” I asked, staring at the black leather cord around his neck, a glint of silver disappearing inside the collar of his gray T-shirt.
“Trying to make yourself invisible,” he said.
I swallowed hard, not sure what to do with his words, my gaze still focused on the pendant I couldn’t see.
"St. Jude.” I lifted my eyes to his, my brow furrowed. Connor pulled out the silver medallion, a saint’s medal. “The patron saint of lost causes,” he said, tucking it back inside his collar.
He reached out his hand, his fingers brushing my shoulder. I flinched from his touch and took a step back, tightening my grip on the strap of my backpack.
“I was just going to carry your bag,” he said quietly like he was speaking to a wild animal he needed to approach with caution.
“I’ve got it,” I said as the first bell rang, cutting through the voices around us. I ducked my head and started walking to my first period.
“Do you still dance?” he asked, falling into step with me.
I side-eyed him. The top of my head only reached his shoulder. He’d shot up over the summer. Tall and lanky, like he hadn’t quite grown into his body yet. “How do you know I dance?”
His lips tugged into a smile, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. I knew he only had one and I liked that it was unique, not part of a matching set. “The dance studio is next to the gym Killian trains at. I used to watch you sometimes through the window.” He ran his tongue over his lower lip, his eyes narrowed on me as if he was trying to gauge my reaction to that confession. His honesty surprised me. It also surprised me that the thought of him watching me didn’t creep me out. “Sounds messed up. But it wasn’t like that. Promise.”
“What was it like?” I asked.
“You want the truth?” he asked as we stopped outside my classroom door.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted. “You’re going to be late for class.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Looks that way,” he said, making no move to leave even as the late bell rang, signaling that we needed to be in our classrooms.
My eyes darted to my classroom door, wishing I didn’t have to enter. I wanted to be impulsive. I wanted to take Connor’s hand and ask him to run away with me. To keep running until we put this place far behind us. Instead, I put on my brave face and asked him to give me something else. “Okay. Give me the truth.”
He reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans, coming out with a folded-up piece of paper. He pressed it into my hand and I looked down at it. When I lifted my head, he was gone. I watched him sauntering down the hallway like he was in no hurry to get anywhere. Before he turned the corner, he spun around and walked backward, his eyes never leaving my face. Even from a distance, his eyes were mesmerizing, and I took an involuntary step forward as if to close the distance between us. He raised his arm in the air before he disappeared from my sight.
“Are you planning to join us, Miss Christensen?” Mr. Salazar asked, his brows arched as he stood in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob.
I nodded.
“No hats inside the school,” he reminded me as I slipped into the classroom. Funny how the school enforced some of their silly policies, yet they let others slide. Reluctantly, I removed my hat as I slid into my seat in the third row, next to my ex-best friend, Holly Chambers. Stupid alphabet, I thought, as I felt her judgment. She continued staring at me as I dug out my notebook, pen, and textbook from my backpack.
“Nice haircut,” she said, punctuating it with a snicker.
My gaze snapped to her face. She wrinkled her nose as if she’d just smelled something bad. I gave her the middle finger and took some satisfaction when her dark eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, pulling a face. “Oh my God, you’re so weird. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
I pushed the memories of sleepovers, giggling over cute boy crushes, sharing a tray of brownies while we watched movies, out of my head. Holly had ousted me from our little circle of friends at the beginning of this year. It had been subtle at first. I’d ask her if she wanted to hang out and she’d tell me she was busy with family stuff. Every weekend she had a different excuse. Turned out she was still hanging out with our other friends, meeting up to go shopping or to the movies, having weekend sleepovers I wasn’t invited to. I’d gotten to hear about it at the lunch table. One time I’d overheard a conversation where they were trashing me.
“I hear she gives good head. Who knew that perfect little Ava would turn into such a slut?”
“She always acted like she was so much better than us.”
Welcome to high school. It was a miracle anyone got out alive.
Ava Christensen, the perfect little princess, was gone. This was the new me. My skin was thicker. I would not be a victim. I was a warrior. I squared my shoulders, repeating the words in my head. If I said them often enough, I would start to believe it. I wouldn’t allow a douchebag like Jake Masters to destroy me. He’d taken enough, I wouldn’t give him that power.
Mr. Salazar’s voice droned on and on about the Cold War. Everything he said came straight from the textbook. No point in taking notes. I looked down at the folded piece of paper I’d set on my notebook then tucked it into my textbook for later. I got the feeling it was something special and opening it now, with Holly sneaking glances at me, would ruin it.
Connor was waiting outside my classroom when I exited, leaning against the wall as if he’d been there for a while. He pushed off from the wall, his gaze settling on my hair. I ran my fingers through the choppy layers.
