Page 55 of People Like Us

The way the words rolled off his tongue made my chest tighten. As if it felt easy for him to take care of me. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever felt that way about me.

His fingers drifted up to the waistband of my skirt, tracing the seam like he was memorizing its curve. My skin tingled under his touch.

“Hey, so I was thinking, since you’re doing so well in biology, that we could skip the study session this week and just hang out? With my friends?” he asked hesitantly, like he was suggesting we donate blood for fun.

My mouth twisted up in consideration. “Why do you want me to hang out with your friends so bad?”

He gave a half hearted shrug. “I think you like them. Maybe even more than your own.”

“Are you trying to convince me to trade in my friends for yours? What’s next, you want me to trade my boyfriend in too?” I teased, though I regretted the words as soon as I said them.

He swallowed. “Your boyfriend’s nothing to me, Lola.” He sounded calm but the pitch of his voice held something urgent. “I keep telling you that.”

Instead of relief, a hollow twist settled in my chest. I nodded. “I’m fine with hanging out with your friends.”

His shoulders eased, eyes going wanting. “Do your best to talk to Penelope first, okay?”

Guilt coiled in my gut. I couldn’t meet his gaze. “Do you believe me?” I whispered. “That I didn’t know what Emily was planning?”

Without hesitation he brushed a thumb along my cheekbone, warm and firm. “Of course I do.” He paused, thumb smoothing my bottom lip where my teeth were pressing. “The others might need convincing though.”

My throat tightened as I forced a lazy grin. “I think you underestimate my ability to charm people.”

He gave me that sad, knowing smile that made him look centuries older. Then his gaze dropped to my mouth. Slowly—torturously—his thumb pressed into the center of it, forcing it open.

“No, Lola,” he murmured, voice husky. “I do not.”

My heart pounded in my ears. The plastic tang of copier heat mixed with the faint cedar of his hoodie and something so electric it set my blood roaring.

August pressed a soft kiss to my jaw before slipping out of the media room.

The rain finally stopped just before school ended, leaving the parking laugh cast in an oil-slicked glimmer. I caught Penelope just as she was about to fold herself into the backseat of a dented green Civic with Angelica and Ben.

“Hey, Pen! Wait up!” I shouted, cutting through the crowd.

Her eyes went sideways to Angelica, who was leaning against the passenger door with her arms crossed, watching me the way a cat watched something it hadn’t decided to kill yet.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” I said as I finally reached her.

“August told me you didn’t know she was going to do that,” she said quietly, picking at the fraying cuff of her sleeve.

“I didn’t,” I said quickly. “But it wasn’t right, and I’m sorry it happened to you.”

She nodded. “Are you coming back on Friday?” she asked, and something in her features opened up a little.

“I’ll have to ask August.” I said.

“He’s a nice guy,” she said, her chin lifting slightly.

“I know.” The words came out harder than I meant for them to.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two. But if you hurt him, I will…” She trailed off, thinking. I pressed my lips together, waiting while she thought of a good threat. “Ruin your favorite purse, or something.” she finally finished.

I laughed, “That’s fair.”

She smiled then, wide enough to expose all her teeth, and it changed her whole face—brighter than all that black eyeliner suggested it could go. Penelope smiled a lot for someone who wore spikes on all their clothing. I could see it then: why August had wanted her close to him at some point.

I pushed the thought back down before it could settle anywhere it wasn’t supposed to.