Free They All Fall Down by Roxanne St. Claire Page B

brings my hand close to his mouth and it takes me a second to realize he’s going to kiss my fingertip. I can’t draw back in time and his lips touch the Band-Aid.
    Still holding my hand, he tugs. “Please. It’s important.”
    I don’t bother to argue, and I don’t look at Molly. I slip off the top of the table, my sneakers landing on the asphalt next to his black boots. “I’ll be right back,” I say to Molly, still not daring eye contact.
    I walk next to Levi along the perimeter of the lot. He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, making me feel super awkward, so I fuss with a hair that’s fallen out of my ponytail and then wonder if that makes me look like an airhead hair-twirler, so I let my hands fall to my sides.
    “Don’t be nervous,” he says softly, as if he can smell my discomfort the way I can smell leather and soap and rain on autumn leaves all over him.
    “I’m not,” I lie, finally tucking my hands into my jacket pockets and looking around like walking with Levi Sterling is the most normal thing in the world. I glance to my right and instantly lock eyes with Josh Collier.
    There’s nothing casual about the way he’s looking back. Despite the fairly standard “what’s up” nod from him, I can see everything in his expression change, even from twenty-some feet away. Disgust, distrust, disapproval.
    Of course guys like Josh Collier don’t like guys like Levi Sterling. Actually, no one likes Levi Sterling: I don’t think he has a single friend at this school. But he only came in the spring of last year.
    “Over here,” Levi says, either oblivious to or completely unconcerned about Josh. He leads me down a row of parked cars to the very edge of the lot, far away from any of the kids. We stand for a second and I rub my jacket sleeves, aware that I’m hugging myself.
    “So what’s up?” I ask.
    Standing in front of me, he blocks my view of the rest of the parking lot. No, what he does is command all my attention so that the lot and the kids and the cars and the noise all fade away and one hundred percent of my focus is on Levi Sterling.
    He doesn’t speak for a minute but searches my face carefully. “You’re upset,” he finally says.
    “A girl died,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t think that being alone with him has a deep impact on me. “What’s up?” I ask again.
    I see him suck in a slow breath, then let it out with a long, soft exhale, looking over my shoulder into the distance, a struggle drawing thick brows and tensing his jaw. God, his jaw is beautiful.
    “I need a favor.”
    The request pulls me out of my reverie about his bone structure. “More tutoring?”
    For a second, he doesn’t say anything, but somehow manages to get closer. “Where were you last night?” he finally asks.
    My whole stomach twists and tumbles. Why does he want to know? The question, the tone, the proximity actually make me a little dizzy.
    “I was home,” I tell him, leaving out the part about a movie with my mom.
    He eyes me, almost as if he doesn’t believe me. “Then why did you text me?”
    “What?” I choke the reply. “I don’t even know your number.”
    His dark eyes narrow in confusion. “I got a text from you.”
    “You’re mistaken.”
    He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a phone. “Look.” He taps the screen and starts searching, squinting as he thumbs through. “What the hell …”
    “Maybe you were loaded and imagined it.”
    He gives me a sharp glare. “I don’t get loaded,” he corrects. “And I didn’t imagine that you told me to meet you at the Keystone Quarry.”
    I hiss in a breath. “What?”
    “It’s gone, damn it. I didn’t delete that text.”
    A dark tendril of concern slips through me. “That’s happened to me recently.”
    He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Well, if you didn’t send it, then I guess you can’t help me.”
    I’m still curious and tamping down a little rise of concern. Who texted him and pretended to be me? “Help