Losing Hope

way. Maybe because I was so certain yesterday that she was half the reason for the tattoo on my arm. But now that I know she’s not, I really don’t want her asking about it. “You’re gonna drop out and show the world just how hopeless you really are? Way to stick it to ’em.”
    I look down at the tattoo. She has no idea what the meaning is behind it and I realize that. But her assumption that it means anything other than what it means sort of pisses me off. I don’t want to explain it to her and I certainly don’t want to be judged by someone who seems to be receiving her own fair share of judgments. Rather than stick around and allow her to decipher me even more, I nudge my head toward her house. “You’re here,” I say flatly. I turn around and head toward home without looking back at her. No need to get too detailed with her, anyway, until I find out more about her relationship with Grayson. And in order to do that, I need to hurry up and get back to my house so I can shower and change in time for my first and possibly only day of senior year.
    • • •
    This is a large school, which is why I didn’t expect to actually have a class with her, much less the first one. And with Mr. Mulligan, to top it off.
    She didn’t seem too happy to see me, either. And the fact that she just practically ran past me to get out of the classroom doesn’t seem to bode well. I pick up my textbook and make my way out of the classroom. Rather than search for my next class, I head straight to find her, instead.
    She’s facing her locker, switching books. I walk up behind her but pause for a moment before speaking to her. I want to give her a chance to get what she needs from her locker, because I’m hoping I’ll be walking her to her next class.
    “Hey, you,” I say optimistically. There’s a pause.
    “You came,” she says, her voice cool and composed. She turns around to face me and just seeing her eyes again makes me smile. I lean against the locker next to hers and tilt my head against the cold metal. I eye her outfit for a second, taking in the fact that she somehow looks even better after a shower.
    “You clean up nice. Although, the sweaty version of you isn’t so bad, either,” I say, smiling at her. I’m trying to ease some of the tension rolling off her, but nothing seems to be working in my favor.
    “Are you here stalking me or did you actually re-enroll?” she asks.
    A joke. She made a joke.
    “Both,” I say, tapping my fingers against the metal. I’m still smiling at her but she won’t maintain eye contact with me for more than two seconds. She shifts her feet and looks nervously around us.
    “Well, I need to get to class,” she says, her voice monotone. “Welcome back.”
    She’s being weird. “You’re being weird.”
    She rolls her eyes and turns back to her locker. “I’m just surprised to see you here,” she says unconvincingly.
    “Nope,” I say. “It’s something else. What’s wrong?”
    My persistence seems to be paying off because she sighs and presses her back against the locker and looks up at me. “You want me to be honest?”
    “That’s all I ever want you to be.”
    She purses her lips together. “Fine,” she says. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. You flirt and say things like you have intentions with me that I’m not willing to reciprocate. And you’re . . .”
    She doesn’t want to give me the wrong idea? Who is this and what the hell did she do with the girl who was blatantly flirting with me last night? I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m what ?” I say, challenging her to finish her thought.
    “You’re . . . intense . Too intense. And moody. And a little bit scary. And there’s the other thing . . . I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.”
    And there it is . She’s been fed the lies and now I’m left to have to defend myself to the one person I incorrectly assumed might empathize with me.
    “ What other thing?”
    “You know,” she says, darting her eyes to the floor.
    I take a step toward her and place my hand against the locker beside her head. “I don’t know, because you’re skirting around whatever issue it is you have with me like you’re too afraid to say it. Just say it.”
    Her eyes grow wide and I immediately feel guilty for being so harsh with her. It just frustrates me no end that she would feed into their bullshit. The same bullshit that surrounds her .
    “I heard about what you did,” she