"What were you doing on Labor Day weekend, Haley?"
He didn’t seem to hear her question or even remember she was alive. Jordan reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
"So, where do you guys live?" she asked when he finally turned to look at her.
"Outside of town," he replied laconically.
"Where did you guys move from?"
"Europe."
"What do your mom and dad do?"
I had to admit that I was just as interested as Jordan was in his answers, and I risked looking at him a little bit. Immediately, his eyes locked onto mine, and his lips curved up, ever so slightly.
"My mom has a lot of international experience," he said, looking steadily at me. "Dad is always on the go." He gave a quick, quiet chuckle, as if he was enjoying a private joke.
"So, it's just you and Zack?" Jordan demanded, tapping his hand to get him to look at her again.
"Yes."
"You guys are home alone a lot?" she asked, and I bit back a laugh before it could do more than choke me a little. You could practically see the neon sign above her processed hair: "PARTY AT HALEY'S!"
He didn't bother answering her, nor did he turn back to look at her. I couldn't have looked at Jordan either, for that matter, because I was completely drawn into the endless black of his eyes.
His smile was gone now. Something about his expression was tweaking at my subconscious, poking me like a shirt tag you can't reach. He looked cold, but also like he was suffering from the kind of cold that burned from the inside out.
The second bell rang, and I jumped, jerking my gaze away from his as Ms. Collins came in and started class. I took notes on her lecture, but with a precision built from years of watching from the sidelines and “following leads” on crushes, I started to put together a detailed picture in my head of the life of Haley Smith.
Part of me envied him for not having a mother around to boss and torment him. It sounded like he pretty much didn't have a father, either, as I guessed his father traveled a lot for business or something. It was just Haley and his brother.
The more I thought about it, though, the more it struck me as kind of a lonely existence.
As much as my mother irritated me, I knew she loved me. Did Haley feel like he was loved by his mother and father?
Sure, he had lots of material things—you could tell from his clothes and his car that he was rich—but, did he have a sense of being loved, of being the most important thing in the world to someone?
Zack seemed like he wouldn't be bothered by such a thing because it was his nature to assume—in the most lovably boneheaded way possible—that he was a super nice, fun guy and that everybody agreed with him.
But Haley? Haley was dark and quiet. I suddenly wondered if Haley lived like a shadow in Zack's brilliant sun.
I started to feel sorry for him, even though my brain was flashing to all the cheesy after-school specials about the "poor little rich kid," when, in my experience, most of them didn't need the pity.
Once or twice during class, I glanced over at Haley. He wasn't taking notes. He wasn't doing anything other than looking down at the blank page in his notebook. He sat with his arms folded across his chest and his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't paying attention to the lecture, either.
My third peek was my undoing. He looked up and caught me. My breath died in my mouth as I saw the look of anger and anguish that flashed across his features before disappearing behind a blank-eyed frown.
Shock was the first thing to hit me. Disbelief skittered through. But it was the aching pity that filled me and terrified me. I couldn't risk feeling sorry for Haley. I couldn't risk feeling anything for Haley. I reminded myself that Project Avoid Haley was the only thing I could do. It was the only thing I was strong enough to do.
CHAPTER SIX
THE PROBLEM WITH AVOIDANCE is that it's a two-way street. The person you're avoiding has to want to be avoided
He didn’t seem to hear her question or even remember she was alive. Jordan reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.
"So, where do you guys live?" she asked when he finally turned to look at her.
"Outside of town," he replied laconically.
"Where did you guys move from?"
"Europe."
"What do your mom and dad do?"
I had to admit that I was just as interested as Jordan was in his answers, and I risked looking at him a little bit. Immediately, his eyes locked onto mine, and his lips curved up, ever so slightly.
"My mom has a lot of international experience," he said, looking steadily at me. "Dad is always on the go." He gave a quick, quiet chuckle, as if he was enjoying a private joke.
"So, it's just you and Zack?" Jordan demanded, tapping his hand to get him to look at her again.
"Yes."
"You guys are home alone a lot?" she asked, and I bit back a laugh before it could do more than choke me a little. You could practically see the neon sign above her processed hair: "PARTY AT HALEY'S!"
He didn't bother answering her, nor did he turn back to look at her. I couldn't have looked at Jordan either, for that matter, because I was completely drawn into the endless black of his eyes.
His smile was gone now. Something about his expression was tweaking at my subconscious, poking me like a shirt tag you can't reach. He looked cold, but also like he was suffering from the kind of cold that burned from the inside out.
The second bell rang, and I jumped, jerking my gaze away from his as Ms. Collins came in and started class. I took notes on her lecture, but with a precision built from years of watching from the sidelines and “following leads” on crushes, I started to put together a detailed picture in my head of the life of Haley Smith.
Part of me envied him for not having a mother around to boss and torment him. It sounded like he pretty much didn't have a father, either, as I guessed his father traveled a lot for business or something. It was just Haley and his brother.
The more I thought about it, though, the more it struck me as kind of a lonely existence.
As much as my mother irritated me, I knew she loved me. Did Haley feel like he was loved by his mother and father?
Sure, he had lots of material things—you could tell from his clothes and his car that he was rich—but, did he have a sense of being loved, of being the most important thing in the world to someone?
Zack seemed like he wouldn't be bothered by such a thing because it was his nature to assume—in the most lovably boneheaded way possible—that he was a super nice, fun guy and that everybody agreed with him.
But Haley? Haley was dark and quiet. I suddenly wondered if Haley lived like a shadow in Zack's brilliant sun.
I started to feel sorry for him, even though my brain was flashing to all the cheesy after-school specials about the "poor little rich kid," when, in my experience, most of them didn't need the pity.
Once or twice during class, I glanced over at Haley. He wasn't taking notes. He wasn't doing anything other than looking down at the blank page in his notebook. He sat with his arms folded across his chest and his long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't paying attention to the lecture, either.
My third peek was my undoing. He looked up and caught me. My breath died in my mouth as I saw the look of anger and anguish that flashed across his features before disappearing behind a blank-eyed frown.
Shock was the first thing to hit me. Disbelief skittered through. But it was the aching pity that filled me and terrified me. I couldn't risk feeling sorry for Haley. I couldn't risk feeling anything for Haley. I reminded myself that Project Avoid Haley was the only thing I could do. It was the only thing I was strong enough to do.
CHAPTER SIX
THE PROBLEM WITH AVOIDANCE is that it's a two-way street. The person you're avoiding has to want to be avoided
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