Page 13 of Every Thought Taken

But it is the most offbeat thing… the feeling in my chest. It is warm and a little buzzy. Like summer with a hint of thrill. Maybe this is what you feel when you care for someone. When you want them safe and happy. When you want them to smile more.

I turn onto my side and wiggle a little closer to him. “Thanks for being weird with me, Anderson,” I whisper.

“Any time.”

CHAPTER7

HELENA

Thirteen Years Ago

“Ihate him,” I yell between sobs.

Lessa hooks my arm with hers as Mags takes my other arm and does the same. We shuffle down the sidewalk from Lake Lavender Middle toward the elementary school. Students pass us, some peering over their shoulder to see the crying girl.

Take a picture already!

“Grant is a jerk,” Lessa states. She leans into my side and squishes me between her and Mags. “Don’t know what you saw in him anyway.” Her grip on my arm tightens. “He’s not cute.”

I sniffle and wish away the tears Grant Michaelson provoked with his harsh words. He doesn’t deserve my tears or a single second of my thoughts. Not after today.

As my friend, Lessa will knock Grant down to lift me up. Call him names. Cheapen his looks. Find some random details about his life that will embarrass him the way he did me in the cafeteria two hours ago.

“Yeah, I agree,” Mags chimes in. “His new haircut…” She giggles. “I don’t care what he says, it’s not a new trend.” She laughs harder. “That’s just his excuse for the hack job. I mean, who does he think he’s fooling? Uneven and half-buzzed haircuts are not a trend.”

At this, I snort. A faint smile tugs up the corners of my mouth.

For months, my crush on Grant blinded me to his true self. I’ve been oblivious to what everyone else saw. The boy with an ugly personality. The boy that thinks he is better than the rest of us.

Now, I see him for who he really is. A cruel boy surrounded by people just as awful.

“Thank you,” I mutter as we approach the elementary school. I squeeze Mags’s arm, then Lessa’s. “It doesn’t wipe away the hurt, but it helps.”

At the far end of the school property, we wait near the trunk of an evergreen for Anderson. For years, this has been our spot. The place we met after school to walk home together. Our houses aren’t on the same street, but when our parents allowed us to walk home from school, we went to the closest house. The Everett house.

Most school days, Mags and I are at Lessa’s for two to three hours before our parents pick us up. We do some homework—don’t want to upset the parents—watch TV, listen to music, or hang out in her room. Sometimes we talk about boys—today is one of those days—and other days, we talk about the future. High school, summer vacation, what we want to do when school ends. Daydreams and aspirations.

I plop down and tug a blade of grass free. “Do you think people believe him?”

Lessa reaches for my hand. “Are you talking about Gross Grant?”

I peek up at my friend and shrink at her expression. Raised brows, wide eyes, and lips in a tight, flat line. Wincing, I nod.

“No, Lena. No.” She shakes her head. “If people believe him, they’re not anyone you should be friends with.” Angrily, she plucks her own piece of grass and tears it apart. “Don’t let him get in your head.”

It is difficult to ignore the most popular boy’s opinion. There is no way I am the only girl with a crush on him. His haircut may be strange, but he is otherwise attractive. Well, in my opinion.

Weird as it is, don’t most people act mean or strange to people they like?

Years ago, Mom told me about this boy in high school that always said mean things to her. He’d call her names, make fun of her choice of clothes, no matter what she wore, and tug her hair in the halls. This went on for more than a year. The entire time, she never acted any differently. She continued to smile at him. Would say things like, “Good one,” when he came up with a creative name to call her. Showed him kindness when he did anything but.

Midway through her junior year, he asked Mom why she had been so nice to him. Her answer was simple.

“Sometimes, one smile is what gets you through the day.”

This guy was Mom’s first serious boyfriend. That one day changed everything between them. A fast friendship formed and she’d figured out why he’d said and done those things. He was lonely. His parents worked countless hours and spent little time with him. The time they did spend together, he was often reprimanded for his less-than-perfect grades in school or how well he did his chores. Mom dated him for a little more than a year. The only reason they broke up was because he and his family moved to Virginia.

So my question about people believing Grant doesn’t feel unreasonable to ask. “It’s difficult not to.”

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