Page 14 of Every Thought Taken

As I mutter the words, I spot Anderson across the lot. His hands fist his backpack straps at his shoulders as he weaves through the crowd. Eyes downcast and back hunched, he ignores his surroundings. He darts past people and cars as if they don’t exist, as if no one will knock him down or run him over.

Would a smile help Anderson get through his day?

He lifts his head when he reaches us and I smile. With one action, I let him know I am happy to see him. Although my day sucked, smiling at Anderson eases the sting Grant left with his words.

“Hey, Baby A.” Lessa rises to her feet and pulls him in for a hug. “How was your day?”

Shrugging, he says, “Same crap. New day.”

Lessa has no idea whatcraphe goes through, but I do.

Mags and I stand up and shrug on our backpacks. Without another word, we trudge toward Lessa and Anderson’s house. When Mags and Lessa spark a conversation about algebra, I slow my stride and fall in step with Anderson.

“Hey, Ander.” I bump his arm with mine. “Bad day?”

His eyes dart to Lessa, concern heavy on his brow. A few steps pass before his expression smooths out. He fists his backpack straps tighter and nods. “Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not now,” he says with a subtle shake of his head.

“’Kay.” I clasp my hands at my waist and squeeze until it hurts. “I had a bad day too,” I whisper.

He locks in place and I stop a step ahead of him. His face twists in pain as he releases his backpack straps and curls his fingers into tight fists at his sides. Anger like I have never witnessed pours off him. I open my mouth to tell him it is okay now. But before I get a word out, his sneakers pound the pavement.

I rush forward to catch up with him. Reach out and clasp his arm. Slow his stride to match our previous. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.” He nods, but the deep lines in his expression disagree. “Want to talk about it?”

I loop my arm with his and sigh. “Maybe later.”

Mags and Lessa may be my best friends, but something different exists between me and Anderson. Friendship for sure, but also more. A nameless feeling. A familiar yet indistinguishable connection. A bond sealed with trust and solace.

I like time with Mags and Lessa. I like time with Anderson too.

“Whenever you’re ready, North.”

The crook of my arm hugs his tighter. “Thanks, Ander.”

CHAPTER8

ANDERSON

If my sister says the word jerk one more time, I might punch a hole in the wall. The walls in this house are too thin. Or I need to move my bed so it doesn’t butt against our shared wall.

Since walking through the front door an hour ago, Ales has gone on and on about some guy at their school. And since hers is the only voice I hear, I assume no one else wants to talk about him.

“Gah! Can’t believe he was such a jerk. In front of everyone,” she says for the umpteenth time.

And that is my cue.

I dog-ear my page inThe Hunger Games, drop it on the bed, swipe up my iPod and shove it in my pocket, and head for the door. As I pass Ales’s door, I hum to drown out her endless rant about some stupid boy.

Is that why Helena had a bad day? Because my sister won’t shut up?I would too.

In the kitchen, I grab a Dr Pepper and chips. Just as I consider zoning out to mindless television, my sister turns up the volume on her verbal attack.

“I hope Gross Grant the jerkface gets never-ending acne and a rash he scratches constantly,” she hollers loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

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