“I think it's sweet,” Noelle said. “At least he's a gentleman.”
119
Kiran, Taylor, Josh, and I all paused. Noelle stopped a few feet ahead and turned with an exasperated sigh. “Problem?”
“Uh, yeah. You just complimented someone with no trace of sarcasm or malice,” Kiran said.
“Not just someone. Walt Whittaker,” Taylor pointed out.
“Are you self-?medicating again?” Kiran asked.
“Kiran, you're a model. Don't try to be funny,” Noelle said, earning a laugh from Josh. “And, news alert, I set Reed up with the guy. That means it's my responsibility not to mock him until after they've gone horizontal.”
Ugh. We all had to groan at that one.
“We are not going to be . . . you know . . . doing that,” I told them in no uncertain terms. “We're just friends.”
“You're sure about that,” Noelle said, taking a step toward me.
I lifted my chin. She could make me vacuum her room and clean out her hair brush and shine her shoes, but she could not tell me who to date. I had to draw the line somewhere. Josh was watching me closely.
“Yes. I'm sure,” I said.
“Well, you might want to tell him that,” she said, turning me around and pointing. Whit was coming toward us down the path, an eager smile on his face as he bore down on me. “Because that is not the face of a person who wants to talk to a friend.”
“Good morning, all,” Whit said, with a slight bow of his head. “How is everyone this fine day?”
“We're all just fabulous, Whit. Thanks for asking,” Noelle said, slinging her arm over Kiran's shoulder. Kiran turned and laughed
120
into Noelle's jacket. “We'll leave you two alone, won't we?”
“Sure. 'Bye, Whit!” Taylor said. Then the three of them traipsed off, arm in arm, toward the buses, leaving me seething in Whit's shadow.
“See you guys later,” Josh added before loping away.
'“Bye!” I said loudly. Like somehow that would make him come back and save me.
“Hello, Reed,” Whit said huskily. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I said. I turned and walked toward the end of the path. He, of course, fell into step with me. “How are you?”
“I'm well,” he said, nodding. “Thank you for asking.”
We had come to the edge of the parking lot. The various teams were gathered together in clumps as the bus drivers and coaches tried to sort out which bus was going where. A couple of the guys' teams were off to other schools and apparently there had been some crossed wires. I paused and let out a sigh. Looked like my hopes of getting on the bus and jetting off were dashed.
“Which sport do you play?” he asked.
“Soccer,” I told him.
“A rough sport,” he said. “You seem too delicate for such a rough sport.”
“Well, then you don't know me,” I replied, sounding a bit harsher than I intended.
Whit, however, didn't seem to notice. He just smiled at me for a long moment as if I'd said something amusing. Long enough to make me squirm. And then, gradually, his face fell.
“What?” I said.