Free Hoodie by S. Walden Page A

his world. Like he built his world around her, and she was the golden statue in the center of it that he worshipped every day.
    She wondered how some people had the ability to do that, to make others feel like they were the only ones. Sanguines, she thought smiling, remembering learning about the four temperaments in psychology. Sanguines had the special gift. And then her heart stiffened. She remembered something else about Sanguines. When they’re through with you, they’re through.
    She followed her friend to the cafeteria.
     
    ***
     
    He was waiting to board the bus home when she approached him. She made sure his friends weren’t around; otherwise, she would not have extended the invitation.
    “Wanna ride home?” she offered approaching him as he sat on a metal bench.
    “We didn’t plan on working on our project today, did we?” he asked.
    “No.”
    “So then why you wanna give me a ride home?”
    “To be friendly,” she said. She moved her school bag to the other shoulder. “Are you coming or not?”
    She started walking towards the parking lot, and as much as he didn’t want to follow her, he knew he had no choice. It bothered him that he would do anything to spend just a little bit of time with her, even if that meant riding in her car for a mere five minutes.
    Emma chatted happily as they made their way to West Highland Park. He wanted to be in a sullen mood; after eavesdropping on her conversation with Morgan he felt utterly hopeless about any romantic future with her. But her cheerfulness affected him despite his resolve to stay glum.
    “What are we listenin’ to?” he asked after a time.
    “Hey now. I listened to your music,” Emma replied, glancing at his face. It was screwed up as though he had just eaten something sour.
    “I know you did. I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ bad about it,” he replied.
    “Well, you look like you hate it.”
    “How you gonna know what I look like? You starin’ at me? You need to be watchin’ the road.”
    Emma ignored him and turned the volume up on the stereo. The mournful melody filled the car.
    “This gonna make me cry. We gotta change it,” he said, reaching for the dial on the stereo.
    “Don’t touch it,” she commanded.
    “Why you listenin’ to something so sad?”
    “I like it. It helps me think about things,” she replied.
    “What things you need to be thinkin’ about with a song like this? Nothin’ good, I imagine.”
    Emma ignored him.
    “And anyway,” he went on, “you been runnin’ yo’ mouth ever since we got in this car. You ain’t even listenin’ to it.”
    “Good God,” she said, and turned the stereo off. “Happy?”
    She pulled into the familiar spot in front of his house and put the car in park.
    “You can come in if you want,” Anton said, opening his door. His tone was casual, but his heart was pleading.
    “Okay. I can only stay for a bit, though. I have ballet tonight,” she said, and walked with him into the house.
    He was going to kiss her today, he resolved. He remembered her conversation with Morgan and decided that he didn’t care. If she rejected him, then he would simply never look at her or talk to her again. They could work on their respective parts of the term paper separately, and he’d let her find a way to blend it all together. He’d mail her his section; she could do the rest.
    He watched her walk about his room, fingering items on his dresser and desk. He liked her touching his things. She seemed interested in what she saw, and that made him hopeful.
    “So that why you always standin’ up straight all the time,” he said.
    “What?”
    “You said you had ballet tonight. That why you have such good posture,” he replied.
    “Oh. Yeah, I suppose.”
    “Do you like it?” he asked, sitting on his bed. He wanted to invite her to join him, but the words stuck in his throat. It was so easy yesterday, he thought, when he picked her up and tossed her on the duvet cover to tickle her feet.
    “Yeah,