Spark
Page 48

 Brigid Kemmerer

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
He didn’t look at Taylor, either, just dragged a textbook from his backpack.
Layne sighed and turned back to her work.
“What’s wrong, lesbo?” said Taylor. “Run out of insults?”
Gabriel lifted his head. “Leave her alone, Taylor.”
“You’re defending her? She just called me a prostitute.”
He raised his eyebrows and looked at Layne. “Really?”
God, her cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Well . . . I said she looked like one . . .”
Gabriel looked back at Taylor, taking in the black fishnets, the tiny little skirt, the top that left three inches of midriff bare.
“I can see it.”
Perfectly arched eyebrows shot up, then narrowed. “I don’t remember you complaining last spring.”
Layne couldn’t breathe around the sudden lump in her throat.
Get it together. Like it was a shock he’d been with a girl like Taylor.
“Just back off,” said Gabriel.
“God, you are so sensitive lately.” Taylor uncrossed her legs to lean forward. Layne had a pretty clear view down that top, and she wasn’t sitting anywhere near as close as Gabriel. She had to look back at her math work.
“You coming to Heather’s after tryouts?” said Taylor.
Gabriel looked away. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on. Everyone knows about the math thing. That just means you could get there early.” Her hand moved, and Layne kept her eyes fixed on her work so she wouldn’t have to watch Taylor touch him.
“How do they know about that?” His voice had a sudden edge.
“Please. The whole cheer squad knows. They’re working out a schedule to get you the homework.”
“Look. Forget it. I don’t need their help.”
“Sure sounds like you need someone’s help.” Taylor pulled lip gloss out of her bag and recrossed her legs, throwing her hair back over a shoulder. “Maybe you’d like a personal tutor.”
She said tutor like she was offering something completely different.
Layne told her brain to stop supplying images of Taylor and Gabriel making out while textbooks and papers fell to the floor.
Her pencil was ready to dig right through her notebook.
“Maybe,” said Taylor, her voice suggestive, “we could get to work tonight.”
Gabriel laughed a little, his tone equally suggestive. “Maybe I already have a tutor,” he said.
Layne’s pencil snapped against the paper.
“Who?” said Taylor.
“Layne.” He still wasn’t looking at her.
Layne felt like the end of that pencil had lodged in her throat.
“Layne,” said Taylor, putting a finger to her lips. “Layne. I don’t think I know anyone named . . .”
“Me,” snapped Layne. “My name is Layne.”
“But wait,” said Taylor in that sickly sweet tone. “Everyone here knows your name is butchy dykey les ”
“Hey.” Gabriel came halfway out of his chair.
“Excuse me.” Ms. Anderson was standing right there, almost next to Layne’s desk.
Layne flushed again and looked back at her math book.
“Sorry, Ms. Anderson,” said Taylor, her voice still sweet.
“We were just talking about how much we love this class since you took over.”
The teacher pursed her lips. “Let’s settle down so we can begin.”
When the teacher went back to the front of the room, Layne tried to get her heart to settle down. What did he mean? He wanted her help now?
A folded piece of notebook paper landed on the edge of her desk.
She unfolded it to find Gabriel’s handwriting.
You don’t have to. I just needed her to
shut up.
Layne swallowed. He was so hard to read sometimes. Like with his phone number. Did this note mean he wanted her to help, or did it mean he wanted her to give him an out?
When she’d hugged him in the woods, his entire body had been tight, like he wasn’t sure how to react. She hadn’t imagined the emotion, the pain in his voice.
And then he’d pushed her away.
No. Wait. She’d pulled away.
This was so confusing and her life was already full up on confusing.
Another note appeared on the corner of her desk. She unfolded it slowly.
I’m sorry about this morning. There’s a
lot going on. I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.
He’d apologized to her twice now. She didn’t get the impres-sion Gabriel Merrick apologized for very much.
Layne carefully pulled a piece of paper free.
I’ll help you, she wrote. She folded it up.
And then she stared at it for the whole period, deliberating. If she was reading this wrong, it was just another opportunity for him to reject her. He could roll his eyes and ignore her.
He could hurt her. Again.
Thank god she’d started the questions for the next unit, because she didn’t hear a word the teacher said.
When the bell rang, she shoved her books into her bag quickly.
And before she could change her mind, she dropped the note on his desk.
Then, without waiting to see his reaction, she walked out of class.
CHAPTER 21
Layne flipped through an old yearbook in the library, trying to tune out Kara’s whining.
“I just don’t understand why you’re wasting so much time on one stupid project. Aren’t you hungry? ”