Where You Are Read Free Page A

I hardly know? Besides, last year it was mostly couples. Awkward, you know. And borrring.”
    â€œYou could go with me.”
    Don’t think so. “I have Kiki anyway this weekend. I’m taking her to see Santa on Saturday, and then we’re going to eat graham crackers and watch The Lion King again, right, baby girl?”
    Kiki holds out her spoon, and I take a bite and wink at her.
    â€œAnd then when she falls asleep, I’m going to write my plans for the next nine weeks.”
    â€œWow, your social life kind of takes my breath away.”
    I wish it took mine away.

Chapter 2
    Robert
    Â 
    I turn my cell phone back on as I cross the parking lot. It vibrates immediately. Five new texts. All from Nic. I thumb through them as I walk.
    I’m standing by your car. Hurry up.
    Answer your phone.
    OMG. Where are you? I don’t have all day!!!
    WAITING!
    I’m done. Leeeeaving.
    I note the time stamps and estimate he waited a whole ten minutes. I reply, although I don’t know why I bother:
    Had to make up test. Have group tonight.
    He responds immediately. You could have told me that sooner.
    I might have if I could have gotten past his posse of cheerleaders. Besides, we had no plans to meet after school. We never have any plans to meet after school. We rarely have any plans to meet anywhere. Sometimes I think Nic is my boyfriend in name only, when it’s convenient, when he needs some arm candy. Not that I consider myself arm candy, but I think he does the way he clings to me and parades me around on the rare occasion when we do go somewhere together.
    Sorry. Text you later.
    He doesn’t respond. I have about an hour before I have to be at Ms. Momin’s for my music therapy group—we’re playing “Jingle Bells” today—but I don’t have the emotional energy to deal with Nic right now anyway. And I damn sure don’t want to go home.
    So I climb in the car, put my phone on silent, then tilt my seat back and close my eyes.
    I allow myself to drift back to the classroom, to those gray eyes with the dark rings around the corneas, and that snug sweater over a striped, collared shirt, and the chest hair at the base of his throat that always shows no matter what he’s wearing.
    I wonder if Mr. McNelis could smell it on me—the want to. Freshman year, in health (the sex ed unit, not the oh-my-god-that-feels-good unit as Coach Gideon liked to remind us, ha, ha), we learned that humans, like animals, give off a scent when they want to mate. I’m not saying I want to mate with Mr. McNelis, but I’m not saying I don’t want to either.
    I’m pretty sure I don’t want to mate with Nic. Not that I haven’t tried once or twice. Nine months of dating and I haven’t touched him. In fact, the last time I tried, he followed his No with a That’s nasty. I’d be lying if I said that hadn’t hurt my feelings. I haven’t tried again. I do sometimes wonder why I tried at all. Yes, he’s cute. And, yes, he can be very sweet when he wants to be. But I don’t know him any better today than I did nine months ago, and he doesn’t know me. And I don’t think either of us really cares one way or the other.
    On the other hand, I wouldn’t mind touching Drew McNelis. In fact, I’m indulging myself and imagining what that would be like when a sharp rap on the top of my car startles me. I turn the key and roll down the window. Luke Chesser sticks his head in.
    â€œHey, bro, no sleeping in the parking lot. People are going to start thinking you like it here.”
    â€œMaybe I do.”
    â€œYeah, well . . .” He shivers. “It’s cold out here. Unlock the door.”
    I do and he climbs in the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. I roll the window back up.
    â€œI’m really sorry about your dad, man. Anything I can do?”
    â€œYou want to make out?”
    He grins, then laughs.
    He