Page 30 of Strange Love

“What was what?” I ask, knowing she’s going to press the issue.

“Don’t act like the fucking captain of the Merrimack hockey team didn’t just walk you to class.”

“He was walking this way.”

“He was carrying your books.” When I offer no explanation she presses further. “He touched your hair and looked into your eyes all longingly and shit.”

“What? No, he didn’t,” I scoff.

“Dude, you know I will march my ass straight over to the hockey table at lunch and ask him myself if you don’t start talking.”

“Alright, alright,” I whisper. “Just keep your voice down.”

“Spill,” she says quietly, leaning forward on her desk.

“We had detention yesterday, and we just kind of—“

“Boned?” she interjects.

“WHAT? NO!” I say a little too loudly, causing her to laugh.

“We just talked, and we have some things in common.”

“You?” Sascha pauses. “And Corey Delacour.” She pauses again. “What could you possibly have in common with that man other than you both think he’s hella fine.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her commentary, mostly because she’s right.

“I know you’re holding something back,” she says, “and I will find out.”

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” I tell her as I turn around to face the front of the class. But internally, I’m panicking because this plan will never work.

The halls are bustling with students rushing to their next classes. Somehow, I can avoid Corey by skillfully weaving through the crowd like a downhill skier fluidly working through a slalom between the next few classes, but lunchtime is different. I’m panicked at the thought of seeing him. I don’t know how to act around him, not that I ever have. I can only hope he and his friends left campus for lunch today.

Entering the cafeteria, I scan the tables and let out a sigh of relief when I don’t see their group anywhere. I settle into my seat and wait for my friends to join me. Suddenly, I hear the loud chatter and boisterous laughter of a group of guys entering the small space. I keep my head down, staring at the floor before me, hoping they won’t notice me. No such luck. With my eyes trained down, I see a large pair of men’s Adidas sneakers stop by my feet. Crap.

Corey stands there with his friends, gesturing towards the nearby tables.

“We’re sitting over there,” he says casually. His friends gape at him like he’s grown two heads, clearly confused.

“This is my spot,” I tell him. There’s no way I’m going to his table. “I’m just waiting for my friends to join me.”

He looks around the crowded cafeteria and then back at me. “Okay. That’s cool. I’ll sit with you,” he says, just as Sascha and Sarah make their way over to our normally quiet table, which loud hockey players have now taken over.

As they approach, their faces register shock.

“Ivy,” Sascha says, setting her tray on the table. “Why am I in an episode of the Twilight Zone?”

“Hey, Sarah,” Corey says to his cousin, who returns his greeting with a smile and a little wave. Then he stands up and extends his hand towards Sascha. “Hi, I’m Corey.”

Sascha eyes him skeptically but shakes his hand. Taz appears at her side, grinning from ear to ear. “And I’m Taz!” he announces with the enthusiasm of a newly adopted Golden Retriever.

“I know who you are,” she says flatly. “We’ve gone to school together since elementary school, Michael.”

One of the guys, who I think they call Garrison, smirks and chimes in. “Oh, shit. I forgot your name is Michael.”

“Listen up,” Taz says. “Sascha is the only person who can call me that. Anyone else tries it, and they’ll get an automatic ass beating.“ He turns to Sascha, flashing her a playful smile, which she returns with narrow and skeptical eyes.

Leaning in closer to me, Corey whispers, “Can I get you anything?” His hand lightly rests on my lower back, and I can feel the warmth radiating through my body.