“Huh? Oh, sorry.” I took the burger and unwrapped it.

Brody started piling his burger with lettuce and tomato. He stopped when he noticed I just watched him. “Do you eat yours plain? Or did I not get what you like? ’Cuz I can run up there and get whatever you want.”

“No. No, this is great.” I put a piece of cheese on my burger, looked at it, and then grabbed another. I piled my burger with lettuce and squirted mustard all over it before taking a bite. “This is so good,” I said when I swallowed, chasing it down with a gulp of Coke. “Jaden always orders my food for me, and it’s never what I want. I like mustard—he orders mayo. I want onion rings—he orders French fries. I can’t believe you did this.” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to suck them back in.

“He doesn’t let you order your own meals?” Brody asked around a bite of burger.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s not… I don’t want to talk about Jaden.”

“No problem. So, how long have you played chess?”

“Fourth grade.”

“No wonder you’re so good. I used to play in middle school,” Brody said, before taking a sip of his Coke.

“Why don’t you play anymore?”

“We moved around a lot. It made it tough to do any extracurricular activities.”

“Ah. And now? Does your family still move around or are you going to be in Middleton for a while?”

“I think we’re here to stay.”

“Then you should join the chess club. I mean… ah, never mind.” I shook my head, taking another bite of my hamburger.

“What? Tell me what you were going to say.”

“Well, the chess club isn’t exactly something that would… your reputation isn’t one that would suggest… I’m not sure you’d enjoy chess club, that’s all.”

Smooth. Way to stick my foot in my mouth. Never mind just one foot—I just shoved them both in there. Jeez.

Brody looked at me for what seemed like hours before he spoke. “And you believe everything you hear about reputations? You judge people based on them?”

“I wouldn’t say I judge them—”

“Why are you here? If my reputation is such an issue for you, why are you here? Oh, wait, I get it. We’re in a car in a dark parking lot where no one can see you slumming it with the bad boy of Cassidy High, right?”

“No! That’s not it at all.”

“Then enlighten me, Willow. Why are you here?”

“You asked me.”

Brody blew out a breath and looked out the window. Throwing his half-eaten burger in the bag, he started clearing the remnants of the toppings and condiments from the Jeep’s console.

I opened my door and slipped out of the Jeep, throwing what was left of my sandwich into the field behind the parking lot. “I’m sorry… I…” I shook my head, turned, and walked toward the stadium.

Brody got out of the Jeep and called after me. “Where are you going? I thought you told them you were leaving?”

I shrugged. “I’ll tell them I’m feeling better and decided to stay. No big deal. I’ll see you Monday, Brody. Thanks for the burger.”

“Willow,” he called, just loud enough for me to hear. “Don’t go.”

I stopped with my back to him. “Give me one reason to stay.”

“Because I don’t believe you care about reputations, and I don’t want you to go.”

“That was two.”

“Then I should get extra credit.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“I can’t, Brody. This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” Back in the stadium, I sat down next to Tim.

He looked over at me. “I thought you weren’t feeling good and were going home?”

“I’m feeling better. I didn’t want Jaden to worry, so I decided to stay.” I was surprised at how easily it was becoming to lie to everyone. I hated myself for it.

I pulled out my phone and texted Jenna.

Me: Are you home?

Jenna: Had to pull over. Was driving. No. Not home. Why?

Me: Didn’t work out. Still at the game. Come back?

Jenna: Yeah. Be right there.

Monday. I dreaded seeing Brody. I thought about texting him a million times over the weekend. If I had known what to say, I would have, but I didn’t, so I didn’t.

I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Make a statement and wear a T-shirt with a message on it or dress in something normal, as Jenna would call it? I opted for the message. I was in a crappy mood. It was a Monday, after all. So I pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black tank that read, I’m allergic to stupidity so I break out in sarcasm. I wore a long-sleeved, red button down that matched the lettering on my tank. Tying it at the waist, I left it unbuttoned so people could read the tank. I slipped on my red plaid converse tennis shoes that Jenna despised, but I loved, and grabbed my messenger bag, darting out my bedroom door.

I came face-to-face with my mother. Her breath smelled like stale alcohol and cigarettes. Her long, bleached-blonde hair was matted to one side of her head and hung in knots, like she’d just rolled out of bed. “Watch where you’re going, Willow,” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

She pulled the collar of my red shirt back and looked at my chest and shoulder. “When’d you get that one?”

“Friday night. He was mad about curfew.”

“Well, you have to do better to stay on his good side, won’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Make sure it stays covered. Better get before you’re late and he sees fit to give you another one.”

I hurried down the stairs and out to my car. When I was inside and the doors were locked, I let out the breath I was holding.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Brody was already sitting at our table when I walked into biology. He looked up when I walked into the classroom.

“Hey,” I said, hanging my bag on the back of my chair.

“Hey yourself.”

“Did you have a good weekend?” I looked at him, sitting down and angling my body toward him.

“Not particularly. You?”

“No. Not really. I did have another chess tournament Saturday.”

“Yeah? How’d that go?” he asked, looking down at his notebook, doodling on a sheet of paper.

“I lost two out of three games.” I shrugged a shoulder.

He turned his head to me. “You lost? What happened?”

“I guess I didn’t have any incentive to win. There were no promises of a burger afterward.” I gave him a small smile, trying to break the ice between us. It felt like the iceberg that took down the Titanic was sitting between our chairs.

He didn’t smile back. Sighing, I bent over to grab my biology book and notebook. I flipped open the flap of my bag and reached inside when Brody’s hand darted out and grabbed my wrist. His other hand moved my shirt to the side.

“Don’t,” I whispered, pushing his hand away. He waved off my hand, his eyes never leaving the mark on my chest. He made a fist with his hand, placed it over my chest, and inhaled sharply.

“Who did that to you?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out. I just shook my head.

“Willow, who did that to you?”

“No one. I mean, I just got pushed in the crowd at the football game Friday night. It’s no big deal.”

Brody’s face turned hard. “You’re lying,” he said through clenched teeth. “That’s not from getting pushed. That’s from a hit.”

Pushing Brody’s hand away, I pulled my shirt back over my shoulder before anyone walked by and saw the bruise covering it.

“Who did it?” he asked again.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Willow—”

“Just drop it. Don’t say anything to anyone. Please.”

Running his hand through his hair, he let out a frustrated sound before flipping his book open. He stared at it a few seconds before slamming it shut so hard I flinched. He stood quickly and his chair rocked backward, hitting the table behind us. I watched him as he stalked out of the room without a word.