Page 47 of The Love of My Next Life
Then he opens the door and exits, leaving me silent and staring at the now empty spot on the floor where he was just standing.
Macon doesn’t come to see me after my class at the rec center. I stay painting well into the night, waiting. He never comes, and I can’t ignore the guilty prickle creeping over my skin.
I think I messed up.
ELEVEN
“No more, please, I beg you,”Claire moans from her spot on her bed. Her legs are propped on the headboard, her head teetering on the edge, and her arms are thrown over her face.
She’s so dramatic.
“We’ve only done half the notes,” I say with a laugh. She’s got her first test in chem on Monday, and she bribed me with Andrea’s strawberry shortcake to help her study. I should have known half the job would be dragging her through the work.
“It’s torture,” she says. “I hate chemistry. It sucks.”
“Yes, it does, but you need it to graduate, so ovary-up and finish these notes,” I tell her sternly. She takes her arm off her face and rolls her head in my direction.
“Can we snack first?” She bats her eyelashes. “Pllleeeeease? I need sustenance or I might pass out.”
I roll my eyes, but I slide the binder off my lap and stand up from the floor, where I’ve been sitting. Claire claps her hands with joy and bounces to her feet.
“Yay!” She practically skips to the door, and I follow. When she hits the landing, she shouts for Andrea. “Mom! We need to feed Lennon! She won’t stop complaining!”
My jaw drops and she sends me a smirk over her shoulder. I swat at her, but she dodges and runs down the stairs. When she rounds the corner and is no longer in sight, I halt my steps and back up several feet.
Silently, I press my ear to Macon’s door, straining to hear something. Anything. But there’s nothing.
I haven’t seen him since the bathroom incident at school. He’s been completely MIA, and it worries me.
I hurt his feelings, and that wasn’t my intention. I meant what I said: Claire can’t know about any of this Macon and me mess. But... I can’t stop the feeling I should apologize. Explain myself? Give him...
...Oh god. The “it’s not you, it’s me” conversation.
I scoff at myself and jerk away from his door. This is absolutely ridiculous. I don’t owe Macon anything. It’s not like I’m the one who pursued him.
Hecorneredmeat that party.
Heburst into that bathroom onme.
Heclimbed throughmywindow.
I didn’t ask him to buy me flowers. I didn’t ask him to come and watch me paint or tell me I’m talented. I’m not the one stealing his ribbons, or whatever.
I’m innocent in all this.
The moment I think the word, his voice invades my head, and I cringe.
Astrea. Greek goddess of innocence and purity. He thinks he’s so freaking clever.
Well, I took that honors English class, too, and he obviously didn’t pay as close attention as I did. He forgot something.Astreais also the goddess of justice, and I think it’s time I served up his.
“Lenny!” Claire calls up the stairs, making me jump. “C’mon. Mom made shortcakes.”
“Sorry,” I say as I hurry down the stairs, “I had to use the bathroom.”
And I also made up my mind to fight fire with fire.
“Um,excuse me, who are you and what have you done with my bestie?” Claire asks from the driver’s seat. I smile and shrug it off, feigning confidence I totally don’t feel.
