at him, brush back his hood and see what he’s hiding.
The edges of my hollowed heart quiver.
My gaze plummets to my hands, folded over my notebook, a pale heart still marring the summer tan across the back of my hand. I’d worn a broken-heart rub-on tattoo mourning Daniel all summer, and the sun had burned a negative of the image into my skin.
Thankfully, our teacher wheels a TV stand to the front of the room, presses play on the DVD player and turns off the lights. An educational video rolls on the screen, the stark beauty of Lake Michigan’s dunes, the fragile ecosystem, the erosion destroying them. I recognize the gritty wind, the cutting grasses, and the sunlit sky. I have an abrasive heartache, and biting guilt now, because some part of me thrilled to the new partnership with Alex like a forgotten instrument singing under a touch.
I shift my eyes to the dune grass sitting in its pot on the black expanse of tabletop. My thumb aches to feel its bite again.
#
After last hour, the halls fill with the surge and press of bodies. Sounds mix in a cacophony of locker doors banging, and voices trying to heard over every other. Perfumes have softened, colognes are weaker.
Well, they were until Josh strolls up to my locker reeking of a fresh layer of some dark-bottled knockoff cologne. He leans against Alex’s locker. Damned if I don’t appreciate the annoyance he represents. At least my heart doesn’t want to feel when Josh is around. “Your guard dog have some kinda magick? Never saw a more timely spew in my life.”
“Really? All eighteen years of it?” I ram my shoulder into my stubborn locker. “Let me get your walker with the tennis balls on the front. You’re just stooped over with experience.”
“Right after I get you protective gear for when your dog turns against you.”
“So says he who’s jealous.” I glare at my lock, spit a swear word under my breath and spin the combination again.
“Resulting to Yoda Speak, Emma?” He crosses his arms, duffle bag at his feet.
“He might’ve been a shriveled up green dude…” My knuckles scream after I punch my locker. “But Yoda was a brilliant Jedi master.”
“You are such a geek.” Fingers stroke over my hair after Josh scoops up his bag and walks behind me. “See ya tomorrow, Gentry.”
“Can’t seem to get away from you if I tried.” I turn and spin the locker combination into my lock. Still nothing. My books drop to the floor, security deposits be damned. I flex my fingers and grab the lock again. Another failed attempt.
Tingles brush across my skin, a whisper of electricity. The weight of a glance presses on my neck a moment before, “Here, let me,” comes over my shoulder in a soft tenor voice.
Alex Franks. Dune Eco partner and locker neighbor.
My shoulders slump in defeat. I lift my hand from my lock, catching a glimpse of the white broken heart near my wrist when I do. My gaze lifts to the face hidden in the shadows of Alex’s hood as if pulled there by a magnetic force. Bemused expression. Full lips under a slightly crooked nose, hazel eyes. Mismatched hazel, even, one darker than the other with a deeper green ring around the iris and…
Alex blinks, and turns to look at my lock. An odd sensation of reeling myself back from some ledge fills me. He taps the dial, spins the numbers from memory and pushes each in, then bumps the door with his hip. The locker eases open like I didn’t just punch a dent into its door because it staunchly refused to work for me.
“Thanks,” I say. “This is getting to be a habit.”
“Happy to help.” Alex opens his locker just as quickly, without the extra tweaks. His voice has a tinny edge when he speaks with his head inside it. “You sound like that’s a problem, though.”
How can I tell him how easily he opens my locker creeps me out? And since Daniel’s fall from that balcony, I haven’t relied on guys, or let them get close enough to have my locker combination.
“N-not really