Page 26 of Left on Read

“Nothing,” Hayes and I say at precisely the same time.

“That’s suspicious.” Esha raises her eyebrows at us. “I can’t believe you let him sit there.” She looks at me like she doesn’t know who I am.

“I don’t own the thing …,” I say softly, shrugging.

“What? You’re acting so timid around him today!”

“I’mnotbeing timid!” My posture changes. Arms crossing, spine stiffening. I am many things, some good, some bad, but for some reason, I cannotstandbeing thought of as timid. Fuck that.

Hayes has no visible reaction to that accusation, which is frustrating. I need some data to interpret here. The blankness is just completely unhelpful.

“You’ve always had this … thing with him.” She sits on theedge of the bench, scooches toward me so I have to scooch toward Hayes. She’s wearing a flowy dress today, this one a pale-green floral pattern with an empire waist. She crosses her legs, rests one elbow on her knee. I feel like we’re in therapy. “I was certain it was dislike, but you’re looking awfulcozy.“

I’m not great with social conventions, but I’m fairly sure that she’s not supposed to share these thoughts about me and a boy with me and a boy. That seems like something better saved for a just-her-and-me talk.

Hayes is still silent, making no move to confirm or deny this alleged … coziness.

“Maybetimidis the wrong word,” she starts again. “Maybe the word is calm. Usually, he annoys the hell out of you somuch,you get flustered and can hardly speak intelligibly.”

“Esha,” I hiss, a blush of embarrassment flaring up on my face.

“Are you two getting close in that class? Hmm? Nova, tell me!”

I cover my eyes with my hands, pressing so hard that I see spots. Usually, this kind of embarrassment comes from something I said. Not from something my best friend said. She’s supposed to be the shield for my weirdness. She’s supposed to keep everyone else away from it, not expose it to the world.

Gentle fingertips wrap around my wrist, pulling my hands down. Hayes’s fingertips. He smiles. His eyes are warm and kind of melty. Soft, even in the middle of his sharp, angular face

“No,” I tell her immediately.

But is she right?

Quoth the Raven “Neverbore.”

So you agree? Poe is never boring?

On page 735: “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe

“Hey,” Hayes says as I open the door.

I’m nottimid.That word haunted me, even though Esha took it back. She still said it, and I can’t strike it from the record, because my brain isn’t a court transcript. (That would be nice, actually. There would be stenographers trained to understand me, and that sounds significantly less exhausting than the way I currently operate.)

I spent the weekend thinking of all the words that mean the opposite of timid.Bold. Brazen. Fearless. Courageous. Confident. Dauntless.I wrote them all down on index cards, just to know how putting the words to paper felt. I picked my favorite one:Courageous.Written in blue ink on a mint-green card.

Then, I decided to do something just that. In an exercise of complete recklessness, I invited Hayes over to my house. WhereI live. With many other people. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, I guess.

It’s to talk about our midterm project. No other reason.

When Hayes arrives, and I greet him on the front porch, he’s as awkward as I’ve ever seen him, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. Behind him, I see his car parked beside mine: his nice BMW SUV next to my beat-up Honda. Such a weird image. Mine has a V-6, though, so at least I could probably beat him in a street race.

As I mentally picture him and me drift racing, I realize he’s still standing there.

“Sorry,” I mutter, stepping aside and letting him into the house. “Um. Please.”

Hayes follows me to the dining room where everyone is sitting, working on their laptops or in their workbooks, and I am already regretting this. He’s justlookingateverything,and my mind tells me he’s finding my space and my home and my entire life lacking. We don’t have money.

“Everyone, Hayes.” I gesture to him standing next to me, getting the uncomfortable part over with. “Hayes, everyone.”

My dad nods. My mom smiles. Gage leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. Dash pulls a face so pinched he looks disgusted. It’s like he smelled his own gym bag.