Read Miss Me Not for Free Online Page B

day. No way in hell.
    ***
    He was waiting for me the next day when I strolled in five minutes late. I wasn't going to come. All day I told myself I was going to leave him high and dry. I didn't need his psycho-analysis shit. I'd been heading out of the locker room, intending to head right home, but my feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and here I was. I convinced myself it was because we had unfinished business. My plan was to basically tell him to eff -off and then I'd leave. Quick and clean. No harm no foul.
    My eff -off moment never came though because he threw me for a loop.
    "Hey, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I know I came across as do-gooder-asshole," he greeted me, raking a hand through his short dark hair. It stood up slightly from his touch, giving him a rumpled just-woke-up look. "I can be pushy sometimes. Forgive me?" he said, holding his hand out for me to shake.
    I stood there, looking at his outstretched hand, not sure what to say or do. I didn't do touching, but for the first time in forever, I wanted to break my rules. My hesitation was blatant and after a moment he dropped his hand and stuffed it in the pocket of his low-cut jeans.
    "So, am I forgiven?" he asked, grinning at me.
    "Uh, sure. It's no big deal," I said, confused that he was still hanging around. Years ago, I would have given a limb to have someone like him pay attention to me, but now it seemed off. I couldn't help wondering if I really was being punked.
    "Sweet. Okay, here's my plan. You're basically done with the study guide, so I figured we could go outside to study. You know, enjoy the weather now that the humidity won't suck the life force out of us," he said, still smiling.
    He had a point. Living in Florida seemed appealing to Northerners, but in reality, eight months out of the year was spent combating the hot, sticky, tropical temperatures that made you wish for a freak snowstorm. The small window of cooler weather was pretty much a joke compared to what winters were like up north, but as Floridians, we really didn't know better. Thankfully, November was just a few days away and normally kicked off the "that's right, we don't live in hell" season, which usually started late November and lasted until February.
    "I guess that works," I said hesitantly, not sure I wanted our private tutoring sessions to be on display. Thursdays were a popular day for extracurricular activities, especially now that the weather was cooler. Ordinarily, sitting outside was no big deal. No one paid attention to me anyway, but being with Mr. Popularity would change that. I could just imagine their scrutiny. The scandalous gossip I was sure they wouldn't be able to resist. Their golden boy being tainted by the "shadow" was sure to make several of them go scrambling for a paper bag to breathe into.
    "Ready?" Dean asked, waiting expectantly for me to finish the inner dilemma going on in my head.
    "I guess," I repeated a little more forcibly than I intended.
    He looked at me questioningly, but I returned his stare indifferently. It wasn't my reputation on the line. I could handle the stares and snarky comments. The question is could he?
    If Dean thought my behavior was odd, he didn't comment about it as we strolled down the hallway.
    "Are you going to the memorial service tomorrow?" he asked out of the blue.
    I shrugged my shoulders, focusing on the trophy case we were slowly passing. I was pretty sure our trophy case rivaled that of any other school, but I guess that was the point. "Go big or go home" seemed to be our school's motto. I didn't need to check the dates on the basketball trophies to know that Dean was responsible for two of them winding up behind the glass. I waited for him to admire and pimp his successes in front of me, but he didn't even give the case a second look. I was shocked. Acknowledging the glory case was the highlight of any student who graced its shelves. Most of the Jockheads would camp out there in front of the case between