Premeditated by Josin L. McQuein

Author:Josin L. McQuein [McQuein, Josin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-98316-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

21

Later turned into much later.

Brooks was twenty minutes late to class, slinking in after we’d endured one of those “famous” pop quizzes Dex had warned me about the week before. Whatever else Brooks was, Abigail-not-Abby had been right about his trig skills. He was an excellent tutor; the time I’d spent with him and his math book back in his room had bought me at least one passing grade.

Dex had morphed back into his old, and very apologetic, self, only speaking to me once to ask if I knew where Brooks was. I whispered a quick rundown about Ms. Kuykendall just before Brooks appeared at the door, tardy slip in hand, and hurried to his seat without a word.

I tried to catch his eye, hoping to get an idea of what had happened in the headmistress’s office or why it had lasted so long, but he stayed hunched over his paper, taking notes with his nose nearly touching the desktop and his arm guarding his face from anyone who might be trying to get a look at him.

By lunch, whispers were everywhere. I’d seen people replay the video of Brooks on their phones and heard them fantasize about what it meant and what he’d done. All that planning between me and Tabs and Brucey, and it was nothing compared to the efficiency of a good old-fashioned rumor mill.

I meant to sit with Brooks at lunch, even if it meant dealing with Dex, to score a ringside seat (and maybe some inside information), but by the time I got into the lunchroom, Brooks and Chandi were in the middle of a three-way argument with Jordan, while their table mates pretended nothing unusual was going on.

It lasted until Chandi cut the other two off with a very loud and annoyed “I’m fine!” Then she crumbled, terror evident in her eyes, her face turning red as she scanned the room to see how many people were watching her.

Dex laughed it off, giving her a thumbs-up and an attempted pat on the back, which she jerked away from.

Abigail-not-Abby was practically doing handsprings over the apparent end of Brooks and Chandi’s romance, but her joyful chatter became little more than background noise, blending with the rest of the room. Another one of those nagging questions was creating a toehold in the back of my mind. Somehow, in the span of time between dealing with Dex and our shared history class, Chandi’s shirt had shrunk again. I hadn’t been paying too much attention to her clothes before, but the details were easier to pick out when she was having a meltdown that guaranteed people would be watching. The shirt was too short to tuck in; it was too tight across her midsection, and just like last Friday, it required two open buttons at the top because it wouldn’t close all the way.

Eventually, she realized she was the center-ring attraction and shut her mouth. Her shoulders stooped, causing her blazer to drape farther over her shirt, but there was no using Brooks for an anchor this time.

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