Blind Spot by Laura Ellen

across his left eye. “Jonathan won’t talk to me.”
    “Oh.” Greg recoiled, his eyes falling on the ink-riddled paper.
    “I saw him leaving, with Tricia of all people. Why would he be with her? And she said he was with someone at Ethan’s. I thought she was just trying to get at me like she always does, but she was with him just now! I saw them!”
    Greg stood up. “Maybe you should let sleeping dogs lie.” He picked up his essay and untouched lunch. “I have to go.”
    “Whatever!” I muttered as he walked away. I snatched up my own untouched lunch and retreated to my locker.
    Minutes later, while I slammed books around on the shelf, Jonathan slipped his arms around my waist. “Hey, Beautiful.”
    “Jonathan!” I turned and hugged him hard. “Where’ve you been?”
    “Around.” He nuzzled my neck. “You still mad at me?”
    “I never was! You were mad at me because I went to the museum.”
    “Yeah, I heard you went with some loser. What’s up with that?”
    “You mean Greg?” I inhaled his musky smell. Relished the warmth of his arms around me. “I didn’t go
with
him. We were both there, so we hung out. Seriously, Greg’s just a . . .” What? A friend? Friends don’t ditch each other the way he had just ditched me in the cafeteria. “A classmate.”
    Jonathan pulled me close. “Bet he wants to be more.” He kissed my chin.
    I pushed away slightly. “Were you with Tricia at lunch?”
    “Tricia? Nah.” He kissed my ear. “I just got here.”
    “I saw her get into your car, Jonathan. I saw you two leaving.” I tried to stay focused, to stand my ground. My body was melting into his touch, though, losing the battle.
    “You sure it was my car, Beautiful? You know you don’t see that well.”
    “I thought it was your car,” I mumbled as his lips caressed my neck again. But I was already starting to doubt myself. I hadn’t actually seen
his
car, had I? Just a
red
car.
    “Nah, wasn’t me.” He pulled me in tighter. “You know I’m up for King.” His lips brushed mine. “Be my homecoming date?”
    My body surged as he kissed me again. “Yes!” I breathed.
    He gently pulled away and slipped his hand in mine. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
     
    Hours later, while we were snuggling on my living room couch (I was too embarrassed by my UFO pictures to bring Jonathan into my room) and I was listening to Jonathan complain about Dellian’s attempts to get him off the hockey team, the doorbell rang.
    “Shit,” he said. We scrambled to untangle our bodies. “Is that your mom?” He’d parked at his house and walked over in case she came home early, but still, we hadn’t really thought she would.
    I shoved his jacket at him and flew over to the living room curtains. Greg’s purple hovercraft sat in the driveway. “Why’s he here?”
    Jonathan looked over my shoulder. “What the hell kind of car is that? Is that that loser?” He flew downstairs and ripped the door open. “What do you want?”
    I could hear Greg’s awkward surprise. “I . . . need to talk to Roz.”
    “Well, she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Jonathan said.
    I felt embarrassed for Greg standing there, all uncomfortable. But I was annoyed at him for spouting that ridiculous quote and ditching me in the cafeteria. I stepped up to the door and looped my arm in Jonathan’s. “I’m busy, Greg.” I focused my dots on his face to fake eye contact so he’d know I meant it.
    “That means get lost,” Jonathan added.
    Greg shoved a stack of papers at me. “If you don’t show for class, the deal’s off.”
    “What deal?” Jonathan asked, slamming the door shut.
    “Class notes.” I flipped through the notes as we walked back upstairs. Every single day was in there. Dated, categorized by topic. Typed. Large font. Bold.
    This had taken time, effort. All for me. And I was a total bitch to him.
    Suddenly I didn’t want Jonathan there anymore.
    I just wanted to be alone.

Four days before
    The next