Page 124 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
LUKE
Sebastian sprints down the corridor, and Bryce’s laughter booms.
“What a fraud. I’m so sorry, guys. Ashcove High normally produces great graduates,” Bryce says, winking at me, “but obviously every few decades or so there has to be a total dud.”
The crew look stunned, sending one another glances, and I’m pretty sure they can’t wait for all of this to be over so they can gossip.
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Smith says. “I said the wrong thing. He didn’t think he could keep it a secret, did he? I know Seth. He used to have lunch in the library. He didn’t have any friends.”
Ella’s brow is furrowed. “So Sebastian went to this school?”
“Seth,” Bryce corrects here. “Sebastian is way too fancy sounding for him. Should have known he was a faker from that.”
“His name is Seth,” Clark Peters says, his lips tight. “It says so on his employment papers. He said his friends all call him Sebastian.”
“What a loser,” Bryce says. “But he sure as hell didn’t have any friends in high school, so that’s actually not a lie.”
“He didn’t have any friends in high school?” Flora asks, her voice small.
“Nope.” Bryce’s eyes sparkle.
God, I’m so angry.
“Let’s respect Sebastian’s privacy,” I say. “Please?” I look at Matteo. “Nothing needs to be posted online, right?”
“Everything is fair game,” Ella says, and I blink.
I thought Ella was Sebastian’s friend. I know he considered her his friend.
“I think we’re done here for today,” Clark says.
An alarm blares in the distance.
“What’s that?” Aisha asks.
“That is the sound of an idiot who went out the wrong exit,” Bryce explains. “Fucking annoying.”
“Don’t swear,” Mrs. Smith says.
Bryce glowers at her. “I’m the assistant principal now. I’ll swear if I want to.” He glances at me. “Or are your ears too tender for that, little bro?”
“I’ll go inside,” Mrs. Smith says, disappearing into the library again.
Bryce starts to laugh, and I hate it.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him.
“Do what?” Bryce’s eyes are wide and innocent.
“You know exactly what you did,” I say.
“Ah. My little bro is angry. Defending the gay guy? Why is that? Something you want to tell me?”
Fire blazes through me. The world is hazy, like that time I drive in Arizona in the summer, and the air became squiggly as heat rose from the asphalt.
“It’s okay,” Flora says, and I’m not sure why she’s saying those words.
I don’t know if she’s saying them because she wants to say of course we all know you’re straight, completely and utterly. Maybe she’s saying okay because she thinks Bryce is correct, and I’m making too big of a deal about it. Maybe she’s simply trying to calm me, because videos are recording, and that’s probably the correct answer.
