Home > Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush #1)(11)

Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush #1)(11)
Author: Becca Fitzpatrick

“Six foot ten,” Jules muttered, slumping in his seat and crossing his arms.

Elliot cleared his throat. “Can I get you ladies something to eat?”

“I’m fine,” I said, raising my cup. “I already ordered.”

Vee kicked me under the table. “She’ll have a vanilla-cream-filled doughnut. Make it two.”

“So much for the diet, huh?” I asked Vee.

“Huh yourself. The vanilla bean is a fruit. A brown fruit.”

“It’s a legume.”

“You sure about that?”

I wasn’t.

Jules closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Apparently he was as thrilled to be sitting with us as I was to have them here.

As Elliot walked to the front counter, I let my eyes trail after him. He was definitely in high school, but I hadn’t seen him at CHS before. I would remember. He had a charming, outgoing personality that didn’t fade into the background. If I wasn’t feeling so shaken, I might have actually taken an interest. In friendship, maybe more.

“Do you live around here?” Vee asked Jules.

“Mmm.”

“Go to school?”

“Kinghorn Prep.” There was a tinge of superiority in the way he said it.

“Never heard of it.”

“Private school. Portland. We start at nine.” He lifted his sleeve and glanced at his watch.

Vee dipped a finger in the froth of her milk and licked it off. “Is it expensive?”

Jules looked at her directly for the first time. His eyes stretched, showing a little white around the edges.

“Are you rich? I bet you are,” she said.

Jules eyed Vee like she’d just killed a fly on his forehead. He scraped his chair back several inches, distancing himself from us.

Elliot returned with a box of a half-dozen doughnuts.

“Two vanilla creams for the ladies,” he said, pushing the box toward me, “and four glazed for me. Guess I’d better fill up now, since I don’t know what the cafeteria is like at Coldwater High.”

Vee nearly spewed her milk. “You go to CHS?”

“As of today. I just transferred from Kinghorn Prep.”

“Nora and I go to CHS,” Vee said. “I hope you appreciate your good fortune. Anything you need to know—including who you should invite to Spring Fling—just ask. Nora and I don’t have dates … yet.”

I decided it was time to part ways. Jules was obviously bored and irritated, and being in his company wasn’t helping my already restless mood. I made a big presentation of looking at the clock on my cell phone and said, “We better get to school, Vee. We have a bio test to study for. Elliot and Jules, it was nice meeting you.”

“Our bio test isn’t until Friday,” said Vee.

On the inside, I cringed. On the outside, I smiled through my teeth. “Right. I meant to say I have an English test. The works of … Geoffrey Chaucer.” Everyone knew I was lying.

In a remote way my rudeness bothered me, especially since Elliot hadn’t done anything to deserve it. But I didn’t want to sit here any longer. I wanted to keep moving forward, distancing myself from last night. Maybe the diminishing memory wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The sooner I forgot the accident, the sooner my life would resume its normal pace.

“I hope you have a really great first day, and maybe we’ll see you at lunch,” I told Elliot. Then I dragged Vee up by her elbow and steered her out the door.

The school day was almost over, only biology left, and after a quick stop by my locker to exchange books, I headed to class. Vee and I arrived before Patch; she slid into his empty seat and dug through her backpack, pulling out a box of Hot Tamales.

“One red fruit coming right up,” she said, offering me the box.

“Let me guess … cinnamon is a fruit?” I pushed the box away.

“You didn’t eat lunch, either,” Vee said, frowning.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Liar. You’re always hungry. Is this about Patch? You’re not worried he’s really stalking you, are you? Because last night, that whole thing at the library, I was joking.”

I massaged small circles into my temples. The dull ache that had taken up residence behind my eyes flared at the mention of Patch. “Patch is the least of my worries,” I said. It wasn’t exactly true.

“My seat, if you don’t mind.”

Vee and I looked up simultaneously at the sound of Patch’s voice.

He sounded pleasant enough, but he kept his eyes trained on Vee as she rose and slung her backpack over her shoulder. It appeared she couldn’t move fast enough; he swept his arm toward the aisle, inviting her out of his way.

“Looking good as always,” he said to me, taking his chair. He leaned back in it, stretching his legs out in front of him. I’d known all along he was tall, but I’d never put a measurement to it. Looking at the length of his legs now, I guessed him to top out at six feet. Maybe even six-one.

“Thank you,” I answered without thinking. Immediately I wanted to take it back. Thank you? Of all the things I could have said, “thank you” was the worst. I didn’t want Patch thinking I liked his compliments. Because I didn’t … for the most part. It didn’t take much perception to realize he was trouble, and I had enough trouble in my life already. No need to invite more. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d eventually give up initiating conversation. And then we could sit side by side in silent harmony, like every other partnership in the room.

“You smell good too,” said Patch.

“It’s called a shower.” I was staring straight ahead. When he didn’t answer, I turned sideways. “Soap. Shampoo. Hot water.”

“Naked. I know the drill.”

I opened my mouth to change the subject when the bell cut me off.

“Put your textbooks away,” Coach said from behind his desk. “I’m handing out a practice quiz to get you warmed up for this Friday’s real one.” He stopped in front of me, licking his finger as he tried to separate the quizzes. “I want fifteen minutes of silence while you answer the questions. Then we’ll discuss chapter seven. Good luck.”

I worked through the first several questions, answering them with a rhythmic outpouring of memorized facts. If nothing else, the quiz stole my concentration, pushing last night’s accident and the voice at the back of my mind questioning my sanity to the sidelines. Pausing to shake a cramp out of my writing hand, I felt Patch lean toward me.

“You look tired. Rough night?” he whispered.

“I saw you at the library.” I was careful to keep my pencil gliding over my quiz, seemingly hard at work.

“The highlight of my night.”

“Were you following me?”

He tipped his head back and laughed softly.

I tried a new angle. “What were you doing there?”

“Getting a book.”

I felt Coach’s eyes on me and dedicated myself to my quiz. After answering several more questions, I stole a glimpse to my left. I was surprised to find Patch already watching me. He grinned.

My heart did an unexpected flip, startled by his bizarrely attractive smile. To my horror, I was so taken aback, I dropped my pencil. It bounced on the tabletop a few times before rolling over the edge. Patch bent to pick it up. He held it out in the palm of his hand, and I had to focus not to touch his skin as I took it back.

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