“I’ll call and make an appointment. When is a good time?”
I shrugged. “Saturday morning?”
“I’ll make it happen,” she said, rinsing off a skillet.
Weston scooped the last bite of biscuit into his mouth. “Thanks, Julianne. But we better get going too.”
“Of course. I’ll unpack your things, Erin. You can put them where you want tonight.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I said, sliding my arms through the straps of my backpack. “See you later.”
“I…Have a good day, sweetie.”
“You too,” I said, following Weston to the front door.
His enormous red Chevy truck was parked by the curb in front of the house, still running. The paint looked freshly waxed, the tires shiny.
“Did you spend some time on the truck yesterday?”
“I’ve been bored since you moved here. Sharing you is harder than it sounds.”
“What did you do before me?” I asked.
I was teasing, but Weston made a strange face. He had spent his time with Alder and their friends. He didn’t have to stay away to respect Sam and Julianne’s need to get to know their daughter. Now that Alder was gone and he didn’t hang out with the same friends, he probably felt a little lost when I was with Sam and Julianne.
Weston opened the passenger-side door for me. “Pretty much the same thing. Wishing I was spending time with you.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. He didn’t smile.
I climbed in, and Weston ran around to the driver’s seat. As soon as he settled in behind the wheel, he held his hand out for mine. When I took it, he tugged on my fingers.
“What?” I asked.
“C’mere,” he said, gesturing for me to sit next to him.
I scooted over and buckled the lap belt. He pulled his seat belt across his chest. It clicked, and he put the gear into drive. With his arm resting on the top of the seat behind me, he drove to the high school with one hand. He’d probably driven with one hand a lot when he was with Alder.
Internally, I cringed. Those thoughts had to stop, or I was going to make myself miserable.
When we parked in the student lot and walked together into the south side of the building, fewer people stared than the week before. I still didn’t feel comfortable holding hands during school, but sometimes Weston got carried away.
First period was quiet as far as anyone harassing me, which had become the new normal. Brady still shot glances my way, but he was more curious than angry.
Mrs. Merit began the lesson as soon as the bell rang and had gotten through most of her slides on the Smart Board by the time Sara Glenn leaned over.
“What’s up with the necklace?” she asked.
“Girls tend to wear jewelry on occasion,” I said.
She wasn’t deterred. “Weston must have given it to you. You’ve worn it every day for almost a month.”
I ignored her. Answering didn’t feel necessary.
“Chrissy North said you moved into Alder’s room. Is it haunted?”
“No, and no.”
“Brendan said Weston said you’ve already had sex in her bed.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Weston wouldn’t say that.”
“So is it true?”
“That’s disgusting.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Sex with Weston is disgusting?”
My chest pressed against the table when I leaned toward her. “Don’t you get tired of listening to and spreading gossip, Sara? Isn’t it exhausting, or is that really all you have to feel important?”
“Ladies?” Mrs. Merit said.
I sat back in my chair and looked down at my book, putting my hands in my lap so Sara couldn’t see them trembling. A heavy disappointment came over me for engaging her. What was wrong with me? I was above that. That couldn’t change too.
Mrs. Merit read the assignment, and I got to work on the twenty-two questions at the end of the chapter. Sara didn’t speak to me again, and I made sure my things were packed ten seconds before the bell rang so I could leave in a hurry.
Weston met me at my locker. He sensed something was wrong. “Did Brady say something to you?”
I shook my head.
“Brendan? Micah? It was Andrew, wasn’t it? That little shit stain…”
“No. No one said anything,” I said, shoving my bio book into my locker and getting my textbook for next period.
Weston took my chin gently in his hand and turned me to face him. “Tell me.”
I closed my eyes. “They’re saying awful things.” I shook my head. “Awful.”
“Like what?” His hand left my chin, and his eyebrows pulled together.
“I don’t want to say. I can’t…it’s awful.”
“That we had sex in Alder’s bed?” he asked.
I looked up at him. “You’ve heard?”
“Last week. I’m actually surprised this is the first you’ve heard of it.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m—”
Weston’s cheeks flushed with anger, but it wasn’t directed at me. “Don’t apologize for them, Erin. Feel sorry for them. That’s such a twisted and…” His words trailed off. “Whoever had that thought and was sick enough to pass it on to someone else has more problems than gossip. You can’t help what they think or say.”
“I know. I don’t care what they think of me. But that is just…I don’t want that to get around to Sam or Julianne.”
“I’ve already told them. They know we would never disrespect them like that.”
My mouth fell open. “You’ve told them? How could you say that to them?”
“It’s a small town, Erin. I’d rather they hear it from us, wouldn’t you?”
“But they didn’t hear it from us. They heard it from you. Why didn’t you tell me?”
The more agitated I became, the more nervous Weston was. He swallowed, and his face fell. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Please don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“That oh-you-poor-thing look. I get it enough as it is.”
“Erin,” Weston began, but the bell rang.
“Shit!” I said. I grabbed my things and slammed my locker, half walking, half running to my next class.