Jordan ignored Carly like she was a mildly annoying insect and focused on me. I could see the confusion in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand why Stephen would want to be anywhere near a nobody like you.” Her words were sharp as glass as she twisted them into me.
In the answering silence, my stomach growled again. Loudly.
Jordan’s expression soured further. “You’re disgusting.”
“Yeah, well, you’re—”
“Go to hell, klepto.” She spun around and walked away.
The klepto crack was a familiar insult from her, but it still made me flinch as if she’d slapped me. She’d been at the mall the day I’d been caught and had witnessed my humiliation firsthand.
“What a bitch!” Carly exclaimed. “Just ignore her.”
“I’ll try.” My face felt hot. It sucked to have the subject of the kiss—and my shoplifting embarrassment—brought up by someone I really didn’t like.
“She’s welcome to Stephen, anyway. But I don’t think he’s interested in dating redheaded giraffes anymore.”
I snorted. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
“Give me a minute. I’m sure I can think of a better insult.”
Jordan had succeeded in knocking my relatively decent mood right out of me. “I think I’m going to head home. Don’t worry about driving me. I need some fresh air.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Besides, I have to make myself a sandwich. Maybe ten. I’m starving.”
“If you don’t gain any weight with this new diet of yours, I’m going to be mad. I hate being cursed with a slow metabolism.” She placed her hands on her curvy hips. “Fine, you go pig out and I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Forget about what Jordan said. She’s a troll who’s just looking to get a reaction out of you to give her pathetic little life meaning. And forget about Stephen, too. Seriously. It doesn’t matter how hot he is. If he can’t appreciate how amazing you are, then who needs a loser like him?”
I shook my head and finally managed a real smile. “What would I do without you?”
She grinned back at me. “That is an excellent question.”
Even when Carly was dealing with her own romantic woes, she still did everything she could to make me feel better about mine. It definitely helped to have that kind of support in my corner.
My stomach grumbled again as I headed for home. I didn’t know why I was so hungry now. But I had the strangest feeling that a sandwich wasn’t going to help me very much.
.
chapter 3
McCarthy High was a mile east of the movie theater and I lived a few blocks north of the school. While there were still plenty of shops and businesses in this area, it didn’t have the same cold, gray cement look of downtown. Here there were tall oak trees that were turning gorgeous fall colors and well-manicured lawns, still green, lining the side streets.
I’d lived in Trinity, New York, all my life. After my parents’ separation, my mother and I had stayed in the same house I grew up in. She hadn’t worked when they were married, but since the split, she’d gotten her real-estate license and started a job that quickly took over her life. She loved it, or at least she spent so many hours at it that she should love it. I practically felt like an orphan.
A distant rumble of thunder reminded me that a rainstorm had been forecast for tonight. I wanted to get home before it arrived, so I picked up my pace for a couple of blocks.
Then something slowed me to a stop.
A boy sat with his back pressed against the front of an office supply shop, the closed sign in the window just above his head. His long legs lay straight across the sidewalk in front of me. His hands covered his face. I eyed a couple of people as they passed by, but they didn’t even glance in his direction.
Typical. Everyone minded their own business in this neighborhood. Especially when it came to someone who looked like he might be a street kid. This boy wore ripped jeans, scuffed black boots and a plain blue T-shirt. No coat. I drew my own black trench tighter around me to help block out the chill.
Just after my parents separated and my father moved away, I’d reacted by running away from home after a huge fight with my mother. I’d been sick of her ignoring me and I’d wanted to make a statement, make her appreciate having her only child around a bit more than she seemed to. Even though I’d known that the world didn’t revolve around me, I’d figured that her world should. At least, a little.
I’d lived in the heart of downtown for three days, a couple of miles from here. Early on my second day, some street kids had found me sitting on the sidewalk, crying my eyes out as I felt lost and sorry for myself. They’d taken me under their protection and brought me to a local mission, where I’d eaten a hot meal. That night, they’d let me sleep in the basement of an abandoned house they’d found on the west side of the city. Then they’d told me I should go home, since putting up with a mother like mine was way better than anything they had to deal with. Also, after my frantic mother had contacted the police and filed a missing persons report on me, it was only a matter of time before I would have been found. Still, I was on the streets long enough for bad things to have happened if I’d been on my own the whole time.
I’d never seen them again, but I’d never forgotten what they’d done for me. If I could help somebody like that to pay it forward, then I would give it my best shot.
“Hey,” I said to the boy on the sidewalk. “Are you okay?”
When I didn’t get a response, I leaned over and tapped the kid lightly on his shoulder. I hated to think he might be hurt. “Can you hear me?”
A streetlamp nearby picked that moment to flicker on, and he finally pulled his hands away from his face. He blinked long lashes a few shades darker than his mahogany-colored hair. The most incredible eyes met mine—a cobalt-blue so intense it felt as if he could see right through me to the other side. My breath caught. He was the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen in my life—and he seemed familiar to me, but I had no idea why.
He was older than I’d first thought. My age, maybe a year older.
His brows drew together. “Who are you?”
“I’m Samantha. Samantha Day. Do you need help? Are you hurt?”
He gazed into my eyes as if hypnotized by what he saw there. I gazed back, unable to look away from him. “I don’t know what to do. My—my head. It’s not working right ever since I fell. My thoughts are all jumbled together.” He grimaced as if he were in pain.
Concern swept through me. “You fell? Did you hit your head?”
“My head?”
I fished in my black leather bag for my phone. “If you want me to call somebody for you, I can totally do that.”
“I can’t find them.” There was pain in his voice, but I wasn’t sure if it was emotional or physical. Either way, my chest tightened at the sound of it. “I’ve been searching night and day. It’s my fault. All my fault. I’m going to fail and all will be lost. Everything and everyone. Forever and ever.”
He said he’d fallen, but I wasn’t so sure about that. If I was placing a bet, I’d say this was either a mental thing or a drug thing.