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It’s a private story on a social media site from a student, who I can only assume is on the team with Rhett.
It’s true. He quit this morning. We’re fucked.
Rearing back from Silas’s phone, I face forward, trying to hide my anxiety. “I won’t believe it until I hear the words come from his mouth.”
The classroom is slowly filling up, and Rhett isn’t anywhere in sight. My disappointment grows, my stomach cramping with the realization that he’s not coming, when the bell rings and Mrs. Patel practically comes running into the classroom.
“Sorry I’m late,” she calls, zooming toward her desk.
Alana scurries in after her, glaring at me sitting right next to Silas before she settles into a seat in the front of the row. Mrs. Patel frowns at Alana.
“Are you changing seats?”
“I can pay attention much better up here,” Alana says, loud enough for us to hear.
Whatever. I’m not even interested in Silas. I wish he wasn’t sitting next to me.
Mrs. Patel starts lecturing us about The Great Gatsby, and I realize I haven’t read a word of the book in days. I try to pay attention, but my focus keeps straying to the open door. I swear I see someone walk by that looks like Rhett.
Sitting up straighter, I keep my gaze focused on the hallway. A shadow appears and then I see Rhett’s head, peeking around the edge of the door.
He’s looking right at me.
Come out here, he mouths.
My gaze shifts to Mrs. Patel, who keeps talking like she’s never going to stop. I start tapping my foot on the floor, anxious to get out of here. I’m extra fidgety, to the point that the people sitting by me are sending me odd looks, and finally I can’t take it anymore. I shoot my arm into the air.
“Yes, Willow?”
“Do you mind if I go use the bathroom?” I paint on my best smile.
“Of course. Go right ahead.”
I leave my stuff behind except for my phone, slipping it into my jacket pocket. My gaze accidentally finds Silas and he’s watching me with a disappointed expression, which makes me think he saw Rhett outside waiting for me.
Well, too bad.
Within seconds of me leaving the classroom, Rhett appears at my side, grabbing my hand and jerking me into a janitorial closet. The scent of antiseptic and bleach is strong enough to make me wrinkle my nose and it’s so dark in here, my butt hits a rack just behind me.
“Rhett, why did you—”
He gathers me in my arms and kisses me, cutting off my protests. I immediately lose myself in his lips. His tongue. The thorough way he kisses me. He ends the kiss as abruptly as he started it, pulling away, raising his arm to pull on something.
A single bulb illuminates the closet, and I glance around before my gaze meets his. He looks very pleased with himself, which for whatever reason, irritates me.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been worrying about him all morning. Or because I haven’t heard from him and I’ve been quietly freaking out, thanks to all the outrageous stories spreading around the school.
Without warning, I give him a shove, and he goes stumbling backward, reaching out and bracing his hand on the wall to keep himself from falling into a giant garbage can full of mops and brooms.
“What the hell was that for?”
“I’ve been worried sick about you!” I take a deep breath, mentally telling myself to calm down. “Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just—” He snaps his lips shut and runs his hand through his already messy hair. I get the feeling he’s been doing that a lot today. “I had to get my shit straight first.”
“What happened? I’ve heard every story you can imagine. None of them I believe though.”
“What have you heard?” He frowns.
