The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)
Page 26“Rafe?”
I froze at the sound of Alison’s voice.
“Rafe? Can I talk to you?”
Bella’s eyes danced. “Aw, she wants to apologize. Are you going to let her?”
“No,” I said, loudly enough for Alison to hear. “I’m supposed to be at work in five minutes.”
“After your shift, then?” Alison asked.
Bella gave me a wink, hitched her backpack onto a shoulder and walked away, which was frustrating because I hadn’t apologized to her properly yet.
Alison stepped into my space. “We need to talk.”
“No, we really don’t,” I said.
Seriously? “Did you cheat?” I asked. “Because that’s really the only relevant fact.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she did not deny it.
“I thought so.” Stepping around her, I headed to the dining hall.
That evening my soccer practice ran late. The dining hall was closed by the time I made it out of the locker room, so I bought a sandwich with eight bucks that I didn’t really have.
Eating at my desk, I spent some time trying to compose a suitable apology speech for Bella. I really didn’t mean for things to go so far, I’d tell her. But I think you’re great, and I hope we can hang out some time.
It all sounded really awkward. Because the situation was really awkward. And there was just no getting around it. Anything nice I said to her now was going to sound suspicious. Like a blatant plea to strip her naked and do it again.
That’s what you get for shooting first and asking questions later. So to speak. But there were things I needed to say, and I’d need to say them in private.
While I pondered this problem, it got late. I didn’t want to knock on Bella’s door after ten o’clock. So I waited until the next evening, but she didn’t answer my knock. And her neighbor’s door was ajar. I felt myself start to sweat just thinking about Saturday night when Lianne Chalice had heard me speaking to Bella from the bathroom.
On Thursday I didn’t get a chance to speak to Bella after Urban Studies, because she answered her phone right after class. And anyway, I had to run off for another shift at work.
My work-study job was in the dining hall kitchen. Usually I worked prep in the back — chopping vegetables, cutting up chickens — it was the same work I’d been doing in my family’s restaurant since I was old enough to hold a knife. But at Harkness I got paid really well for it.
Thursday, though, they had me serving behind the counter. The serving line wasn’t my first choice of jobs, but you can’t always have what you want. Unfortunately, some of the guys who came through the line hadn’t learned that yet.
“Can’t you just give me two of those?” a big guy in a football jacket demanded from his side of the counter. “And save me the trip?”
The plate I handed him had one hot roast beef sandwich on it. “You can come back through for a second one,” I told him. That was the dining hall rule, because they didn’t want people to waste the expensive stuff. It was the same rule every freaking day, although some guys asked anyway. And I always said no, because I didn’t want to be fired.
“Thanks for nothing.” The ham-necked guy stalked off, as if I’d offended him.
“You’re so welcome,” I muttered to myself.
Good times.
Bella stared back at me from across the busy counter, one eyebrow cocked. “Hello again,” she said.
“Hi.” My neck caught fire just at the sight of her cool green-eyed stare. It was impossible not to remember where last I’d seen that level gaze, or hear an echo of all the crazy things we’d said to each other. I felt sweat break out on my back. But I wasn’t going to act like a chump this time. “I knocked on your door last night.”
“Why? Were you feeling lonely?” She winked at me.
Dios. My gaze swept over the waiting diners, and I wondered if anyone was listening in.
When I brought my eyes back to Bella’s, she looked unhappy. “It was just a little joke, Rafe. But if you want to pretend you don’t know me when other people are around, I get it. Could I please have the chicken fried rice?”
I reached for the scoop, tongue-tied again. I made Bella’s plate, trying to figure out what to say. This wasn’t the time or the place to give my little apology speech. “Will that be all?” I said quietly.