Page 32 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

My heart matches her sad eyes. An original copy is in a landfill? Who the fuck does something like that? Clearly, this book means something to her. Why would her father throw it out? Especially after she asked him to repair it?

Also, why the fuck do I care?It has nothing to do with the grief radiating off of her and all to do with the fact that a signed classic is sitting in a dump somewhere;I tell myself.

Silence engulfs us. Mainly because I don’t know what to say. I want to tell her I’m sorry for what happened, but I also don’t want to give her the wrong impression.

I am sorry for what happened, though. That fucking sucks and is rude as hell. I almost want to find another copy and give it to her. She looks so dejected. A vision of me crawling through a pile of trash floats through my mind. The way she looks right now, if she were my girl, I’d do it if it made her feel better. But she’s not my girl. No way in hell.

It’s rare I’m conflicted or have off the wall thoughts like that. I never expected to feel anything other than contempt for this girl.

The computer finally gets its act together and brings up her total. I give her back her change and hand her the bag. Without another word, she turns and makes a beeline for the door.

“I’m sorry about your book, Charley,” I blurt as she goes to push the door. It doesn’t open, of course, because I locked it earlier. She must not have heard me because she remains silent and focuses her gaze away from me, giving it every effort to not appear irritated. I skirt around the counter and jog across the shop.

Eager to get out or away from me, she sighs and shakes the door in frustration.

“I—I think it’s locked. How do I unlock it?” Startled by how close I am without noticing, she jumps.

Something in me shifts and genuine concern falls over me. What the hell is wrong with her? She’s acting like I’m planning to hit her. I would never, no matter how much I dislike someone, especially a female.

I know that jump. It’s one I’ve worked to hide from people for years now. I find myself wondering about this girl’s story, then shove those thoughts away real fast.

“Just twist this,” I tell her while doing it for her, anyway.

“Thanks,” she mumbles and pushes through the door. I study her jerky movements, wary a nervous breakdown is about to occur. The air around her flows thick with emotion.

“Charley,” I’m compelled to call out.

“Yeah?” She stops at the door of her SUV and looks back at me as if I’ve broken her out of deep thought, like she’s forgotten I’m here. Should she be driving? She’s nearly distraught. I don’t like the girl one bit, but I don’t want anyone to feel like that.Shit.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes widen a bit, and she tilts her head in surprise.

After taking time to consider my words, she says, “Yeah, uh, I will be.” Her smile is half-cocked and doesn’t meet her eyes, but when she reaches for the door handle, her movements are more fluid, more focused. “Goodnight, Riggs. Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure.” I mumble, knowing she can’t hear me because she’s jumping into the Jeep and slamming the door shut. I stand dumbfounded, watching as she puts the key in the ignition and backs out of the spot. “What the fuck just happened?”

CHAPTER15

“He worksat the bookstore across town? No shit.” Foxy says as we climb out of the Jeep. I filled her in on the train wreck that was last night with Riggs at the bookstore.

After everything that had happened at school, I made my way through my homework, two helpings of dinner, and then a pint of ice cream. I had planned to go to bed early and went downstairs to retrieve my copy ofThe Outsidersand realized that my mother had thrown it away. To say it emotionally wrecked me would be an understatement. That book was everything to me and the story has helped me through many hardships. It’s myfeel goodbook.

Thanks to Riggs and that nightmare last night, I now have a new copy but nothing, and I mean nothing, will replace my original signed copy from my grandmother. I wish I could erase yesterday from my memory completely.

“So he’s hot and nerdy.” Foxy winks and I’m close to fainting.

Yeah, he’s hot as shit. Last night being no exception. I haven’t seen him in street clothes and let me tell you, he wears them well. He had on a tight black t-shirt that had a band name written in white, black jeans that were a little on the tighter side compared to the trousers the school offers and his usual boots. His hair tousled and messy hair begged for me to run my fingers through it.

“The kicker, he was nice to me. Probably because he was afraid I would turn him in to his boss if he wasn’t. Even so, he was nice. Oh, Foxy, he probably thinks I’m crazy,” I whine and link my arm with hers as we make our way into the school.

“Well, that wouldn’t exactly be the wrong assumption to make, no?”

I gawk at her, stopping dead in my tracks. She’s just joking and I am as well—partially—but that doesn’t stop me from dreading seeing him in class. I’m curious what the hell he must have thought of me, especially after pulling up to the store right before they closed. Dick move but I had to replace the book. It was the only thing that made my night even remotely salvageable. At least until I saw him walking down the aisle.

“Ouch, bitch.” Despite my shitty mood, I share in Foxy’s laughter. We cackle until we make it to my locker. “Oh, that reminds me.” I glance around the hallway to make sure no one is listening. It’s loud and packed with students, so I doubt anyone would hear, but I check anyway.

“Jesus, what is it? Looking all cryptic and shit like you’re about to bomb the place or something.”

“Oh, shut up. So the guy texted me back,” I say in a hushed tone.

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