Page 30 of Like You Know

“Amaya, can we please talk?” He leaned in and kept his voice lowered.

“About what?” It had been three days since our impromptu thrift shop adventure. I’d ignored just about everyone for the weekend, but come Monday, he’d spent all day trying to talk to me. I’d managed to dodge him so far, but he had that determined look on his face. As if he was ready to throw me over his shoulder and tie me up until I agreed to speak to him.

“About the other day. I feel like we left things unfinished. You wanted to go home, and I wasn’t going to keep you somewhere you didn’t want to be, but I don’t think our conversation is quite over.”

“It’s over. Trust me.”

“I just ... I’ve been worried about you.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. For the first time since we’d met, he looked uncertain—maybe even nervous.

“Look, I appreciate you getting my mind off shit on Friday, but I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that.” He shook his head, but I forged on. “You’re not interested in me. I get it. But I’m not interested in being just your friend, so we have nothing to talk about anymore. You don’t get to be worried. I have my girlfriends to be there for me, to worry about me, to talk to. You’re off the hook, OK?”

He stared at me with an indecipherable look on his face. I could tell he wanted to say something, a lot of things, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Speaking of friends, I’m meeting mine in the library to study, and I’m late.” I gave him a firm look. After a long moment, his shoulders dropped in defeat, and he stepped aside.

“See ya, Amaya.” He sounded sad, and as I passed, his fingers brushed against mine. I forced my hand to grip the strap of my bag so it wouldn’t grab on to him and never let go.

“Goodbye, Jet.” I said it softly, more for myself than him, but I had a feeling he heard it anyway.

I found the girls and Hendrix at a table in the back of the library. They’d set up right next to a window, away from all the shelves. Weaving through the desks in the study area—half of which were full with other seniors studying for exams—I made my way over.

They all gave me halfhearted waves of acknowledgment, already buried in books and flash cards. Donna was methodically crosschecking some English notes against the relevant reading. Mena had that deer-in-the-headlights look as she switched between her math and political science notes every few seconds. Hendrix’s head was in his hands as he stared at a blank page on the table before him.

If I was going to be miserable, at least I’d be in good company. Dropping my bag, I flopped into the last free chair. I reached down to grab my books, but I just slumped against the back of the chair instead.

Exams were fast approaching and I’d come here fully prepared to study. But ...ugh! This was all Jet’s fault.

Mena’s hand covered mine on the table, and I looked up to find she’d abandoned her frantic attempts at study to instead study me. Across from us, Donna sat up and looked at me too. Hendrix was still stuck in whatever depth of despair that blank sheet of paper had him trapped in.

“What?” I frowned.

“You look sad,” Mena said, sounding sad herself.

Hendrix looked up from his existential crisis, and then all three of them were watching me with worried expressions. Mena didn’t resist when I pulled my hand out from under hers, but Donna never let anyone get away with shit.

“A, you’ve been off for weeks and you won’t talk to us. We’re seriously getting worried here. Please ...” I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Donna Mead lost for words.

“We just love you and we want to be here for you. That’s all,” Mena practically pleaded.

“Others are starting to notice too,” Hendrix added. Damn him! He knew I hated having people up in my business, that it would bother me more than anything to know they were talking shit about me.

I opened my mouth to ... say something, and I just made a weird strangled sound before closing it again.

Shit. Fuck! I could feel all the pent-up emotions building up, literally choking me to the point I couldn’t speak. In school, with half our year sitting all around us, dammit! I glanced around the library and then at my friends.

I must’ve looked like a caged animal. I wanted to talk to them, I did, but there was so much shit to let out it was clogging the way.

But my friends knew me—like,reallyknew me. Donna and Mena packed their books up right away. Hendrix frowned and hesitantly started grabbing his stuff too.

Donna placed a hand on his shoulder. “We need some girl time. You need to stay here and actually study.”

“Harlow will meet us downtown,” Mena announced, tucking her phone away and zipping up her bag.

Looking disappointed, Hendrix slouched back into his seat and took out a book with actual words on it.

“Whatever it is, Amaya, we got your back,” he said, and I gave him a genuine smile. Then Donna gave him a big, sloppy, totally-inappropriate-for-the-school-library kiss, and we turned to leave.

“How the fuck am I supposed to focus on equations with a raging boner?” Hendrix grumbled as we left, making us and a few others nearby laugh.

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