Free Sweet Nothing by Mia Henry Page B

mine.
    “Neither did most of my students,” Gwen groans. The trace of sadness is gone from her expression. “And I’m not that much of a hard ass. It’s like, read the book, don’t take your summer reading test stoned, and you probably won’t get below a B-. My new school year’s resolution is to get less than five parent phone calls this year.”
    “Admirable.” I nurse the spiked tea. My body is starting to shift from wired to worn out. “At the rate I’m going, I’ll get to five before the week is out.” I push back my chair. “Good luck with these. I’ve got to get some sleep.” I head for the door.
    “Oh. Wait. Ellie?” Gwen calls behind me. “About this afternoon…are you… okay?”
    The declined debit card. My quick escape from the coffee shop. The phone call with Aria. It seems like it all happened weeks ago, instead of earlier today.
    “Oh. Yeah. I’m really sorry about that.” I turn. “I didn’t mean to freak out. I just—I don’t know, money is kind of a weird thing for me, and—”
    “It’s fine.” Mercifully, Gwen cuts me off. “I just wanted to make sure you were cool. Sucks when things get tight like that. If you need anything, just let me know.”
    “Promise.”
    “Oh, and speaking of dough…” She tugs her bag from underneath the table and rummages through it. “When I went back to your classroom to get my jacket, I found this.” She produces my money clip and holds it in the light, examining it. “You left it on your desk. It’s gorgeous.”
    “Oh! Thanks.”
    “But…” Gwen tilts her head in confusion as she examines the clip. “It’s yours, right?”
    “Yeah. My mom gave it to me. Why?”
    “It’s just… the initials. Yours are
E, something, S,
right? But these are—”
    My blood runs cold. How could I have been so stupid? “ESH. I know.” I swipe the clip from her fingers and close my fist over it until I can feel the cold metal digging into my skin. “Actually, it was my maternal grandmother’s, so these are her initials, and my mom passed it down to me.” My heartbeat triples.
    “Oh. Okay. Cool.” Gwen seems to accept my explanation, but I can feel her eyes on me as I duck out of the kitchen and make a break for my bedroom. Close the door behind me and lean against it, trying to slow my breath.
    What am I doing? I’ve lost focus. I’ve let Luke get in the way, which has made me careless. If I keep it up, I’ll slip again, which will eventually leave me exposed. That can’t happen, no matter how sweet or sexy or creative or good Luke Poulos is. He may be all of those things, but is he worth jeopardizing everything?
    I whip my dress over my head and toss it on the floor, diving between my sheets without brushing my teeth or washing my face. I can still feel Luke’s scent on me, his warmth. I don’t want it to fade. I drift off with the light still on, promising myself that tomorrow, I’ll pull back. Break it off. I can’t let things move forward between Luke and me.
    My sleep is fitful again. There’s the usual nightmare about my mother, then a brief flash of my father behind bars. And then, in the same dream, Luke. Only it’s not Luke, not the way he is now. In the dream he’s a teenager, with the same clear blue eyes and thick, dark hair. He’s lying down in the middle of a two-lane highway. And I’m standing on the side of the road, paralyzed in fear as a semi-truck barrels toward him. I’m screaming, but he can’t hear me. As the truck picks up speed, he turns his head toward me. His eyes are pleading. Glassy. I want to save him, but I’m powerless. In the last second, he mouths my name.

chapter ten
    Elle,
     
    So… this faculty “mentor”. You do realize you’ve mentioned him in, like, every Email you’ve written since you got there, right? Details, please!
     
    David texted yesterday. He said he’d just gotten really stressed over everything, and doesn’t want to break up. He wants to talk this weekend. What am I