Most Likely to Succeed

I knew from experience, though, that not answering him would lead him to accuse me of getting a bad grade. That was something my ego couldn’t withstand. I told him the happy truth: “A ninety-two.” Not a grade up to my usual standards by any means, but way better than the zero I would have received if Sawyer hadn’t stepped in to buoy me that day.

“Wow,” he said between french fries, “you should get Sawyer to write your papers for you every time.”

This was an insult meant to stab me in the heart. It didn’t, because I knew I’d written my own paper. If he’d accused me of cheating two weeks ago, I would have been upset. His grip on me was slowly slipping.

And his mention of Sawyer turned me on. What if Sawyer had written my paper for me? Sure, that would be cheating. I would never do that. I didn’t need to. But the idea suggested an intimacy between Sawyer and me that was more exciting than our tame reality.

So far.

“What did you get?” I asked Aidan.

“Are you scared?” he accused me. This meant he’d gotten lower than a ninety-two.

“All right, then,” I said dismissively. “What’s the student council business you wanted to discuss?” I took a bite of salad.

“It looks like you’re not going to get your homecoming dance after all,” he said.

I nodded without looking up.

“But if we do have one,” he said, “I don’t want you to go with Sawyer.”

As he said this, I finally spotted Sawyer across the lunchroom. He stood behind a table where a lot of the cheerleaders sat, one hand on the back of Grace’s chair and the other on the back of Cathy’s, laughing with them. It wouldn’t be long before I heard yet another rumor about his sexual exploits, as if my friendship with him was an addition to his life, not a change.

But I wasn’t about to admit that to Aidan. I said, “You broke up with me. What I do now is none of your business.”

“I didn’t break up with you,” he said, pointing at me with a french fry. “I said I wanted to take a break. I thought dating other people for a while would strengthen our relationship, but I didn’t mean you could date Sawyer!”

I put my fork down. “You said you wanted to talk about student council business. I wouldn’t have agreed to eat lunch with you otherwise.”

“This is student council business,” Aidan said. “When you and I were dating, people knew we were on the same page, president and vice president. Now people are coming up to me constantly, asking whether you’re dating Sawyer. I tell them, ‘Yeah, she’s obviously had an aneurysm or a small stroke, and suddenly she’s decided she wants to date a loser.’ ”

“Why do you say he’s a loser?” I demanded. “He’s in the upper-level classes with us.” I had no idea what sort of grades Sawyer got, but he must have tested well enough at some point to be placed in the college track. “He’s the school mascot, a student council rep, and the parliamentarian. He doesn’t sound like a loser to me.”

Aidan’s eyes were cold as ice as he said, “I don’t like him, okay? I don’t like the way he talks to you.”

I had no idea what Aidan meant. Frowning, I asked, “How does he talk to me?”

“He stands very close to you,” Aidan said, moving closer across the table himself. “He leads with his pelvis. And I don’t understand what you see in him. Of course, there are ladies who marry men in prison.”

“He’s not in prison,” I pointed out.

“He will be.”

We stared each other down across our almost untouched food. I’d had plenty of conversations with Aidan in which he lobbed witty insults at me to make me feel bad. But he didn’t usually want something from me. This time he was intense and certain. Whether or not I was a part of his life, he wanted Sawyer out of mine.

“Tell me something,” I said, acting casual by picking up my fork again and stirring my salad. “Did your dad help prosecute Sawyer’s dad when he went to jail?”

I wasn’t looking at Aidan, but his hesitation told me I’d surprised him. After a few seconds, he said, “Yeah.”

“And when Sawyer moved to town, your dad told you who he was. That’s how everybody knew on Sawyer’s very first day at school that his dad had been to jail. You made sure they knew.”

“So?”

I looked up at Aidan. “Sawyer might be a different person today if you hadn’t done that. He didn’t know a soul in town except his dad. He hardly knew his dad, I imagine. And you ensured he was teased by the entire student body the second he stepped on campus. No wonder he’s so defensive. Some school leader you are.” I shouldered my book bag and picked up my salad. Ignoring Aidan when he called to me, I walked away.

I wasn’t sure where to go, though, which put a damper on my dramatic exit. I’d almost forgotten that the last time I’d seen Sawyer, he was cozying up to Grace and Cathy. But he wasn’t sitting with them now. After a quick scan of the room, I spied him at our usual table, working through an enormous salad and speaking an occasional word to Quinn next to him.

When I approached, he glanced up at me. He looked down again without smiling, as if I wasn’t welcome. He really was mad that I’d eaten lunch, however briefly, with Aidan. As I slid into the seat across from him with my salad in front of me, he concentrated on his own food. Then he asked flatly, “Did you finish with your student council business?”