“Yes, but I’m glad to do it.” Anything to not hear another “fired” comment come out of Ford. Plus, I really don’t mind. I like the work.
Reaching inside the neck of his T-shirt, West pulls out the necklace I saw him wearing last night and fiddles with the trinket on the end. I stare at the strong lines of his neck and the dark stubble on his cheeks, and my throat goes a little dry.
“What is that?” I nod to the necklace. “I saw it during the concert and wondered.”
“My sister, Vianca, and I spent a lot of time with Gramma when we were growing up.” West gives a little chuckle. “She’s this total hippie, in-love-with-the-earth type of person. It seemed like every day was a new adventure. The world was this great big place to discover.”
My expression softens, imagining. What a wonderful way to grow up.
“She took us mining in North Carolina one weekend. We found this lump of gray and white rock with a gold line.” West rubs the trinket between his fingers. “Gramma had it broken into three pieces and necklaces made.”
I nod to the gold. “Can I see?”
West leans in and our heads come together as I study the small lump encased in silver wiring. Our noses bump, making us both smile. “You’ve mentioned your grandmother a few times now. She must be very special.”
“She’s the best.”
“Is she your mom’s mom or your dad’s?”
His mood drops a little, and I wish I could take the question back.
“My mom’s,” he whispers.
Anne yawns then and sits up, but I keep looking at West. There’s something there, and if it wasn’t for Anne waking up, he may have felt comfortable enough to share.
“How far we got left?” Anne asks as she gives her neck a good stretch, stopping midway when she notes our joined hands.
Immediately, I let go and reach inside my messenger bag, pretending to be looking for something.
West’s phone buzzes, and he slides his finger across to check the message. “Oh, hell, yeah.” He holds up his phone. “Ms. Kelly’s throwing a party in Pittsburgh for everyone on the tour.”
Both of our phones buzz next, and Anne and I simultaneously check ours, too.
Anne perks up, reading her message, and excitedly looks over at me. “You, my friend, are not only going, but you’re totally getting drunk.”
CHAPTER 19
I goto a private all-girls school. I’m ineighth grade now. They offer three options for eighth grade math: Pre-Algebra, Algebra 1, and Algebra 1 Honors. I’m not good in math and I timidly asked Grayson if I could take Pre-Algebra.
His response was, “Only retards need pre-algebra in eighth grade.”
And so here I sit at my desk doing homework for Algebra 1 Honors. I’ve been here four hours and I haven’t made it past the first page of problems. Brynn, my best friend from school, offered to tutor me but I’m too scared to ask Grayson for permission.
My door opens. Grayson appears holding up a piece of paper. “Do you know what this is?”
“No, sir.”
“Your grades.” He snaps the paper onto my desk, jabbing his finger on a C- next to Algebra 1 Honors. “That is unacceptable.”
“I’m sorry.” I show him my homework. “I’m trying. I really am.”
“Apparently not.”
“I…I told you I needed to take Pre-Algebra. I…I knew—”
He grabs my upper arm, yanks me to my feet, and hasme up against the wall holding my wrists behind my back before I fully grasp what’s happened.
“You knew what?” he asks, his voice low.