It’s all I can do to stay seated. I want to jump up and hurry over to her, and crush her in my arms.
I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I’ve never wanted anyone to hug me before. Which is good, because no one ever has.
But this girl… she’s not like anything I’ve ever seen. Not like a friend, or like family—the real, absent kind, or the everchanging fake kind.
No. She’s something altogether different.
More like… a book, or a bicycle. A belonging.
This girl… Lia… ismine.
2
Lia
Seventh grade
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes my presentation on dinosaurs.”
I turn around, pretending to gag for the amusement of my friends, Sophie and Jane. “He’s so in love with the sound of his own voice I bet he’s gonna marry himself.”
“Uh huh. But he’s not as much in love with himself as you are,” retorts Sophie.
“Lia and Logan sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S…” sings Jane.
“Oh, shut up,” I hiss, whipping back around.
Just in time for my eyes to meet Logan’s. He’s got a tan face and brown curls, and he’s definitely, without any doubt, the cutest boy in class. Cuter than any of the boy banders my friends obsess over, though I would never admit that to any of them.
But my heartbeat picks up when he gives me a mock bow. “Did I blow your mind with my T-rex fun facts?”
“Shut up,” I say again, growing red.
I really hate the way I blush. Not a light tinge on my cheeks,but splotches of red on my nose, my neck and ears.
I also hate that I can never think of a smart thing to say. Logan has such a way with words. He’s always making everyone laugh. But I just can’t seem to relax around him. Instead, it feels like every time I speak to him, it’s to lash out, even though that’s the last thing I want to do.
Could Sophie and Jane be right? Could I really have a crush on him?
I don’t think I do. Do I? I would know, wouldn’t I?
At last class is over, and there’s a general movement to get outside. The teacher is powerless to do a thing about it. In fact, the teacher is powerless in general when it comes to dealing with us Oakley kids.
I make a beeline for the bike that I always keep tied to the tree outside of school. Somehow, no one has stolen it yet. Not even a chain could keep the Oakley ruffians from taking it. Only Logan and his friends could. I’m pretty sure I have him to thank for my intact bike, but thanking him is the last thing I want to do.
Unlocking the useless chain, I start to pedal home. Dad is out of town on some Moretti family business, but he left me a key and a list of instructions about ten pages long. I definitely have the most overprotective parent around, or at least, the most overprotective parent in Oakley. Still, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his little princess, so I guess I can’t complain.
I leave my bike against the tree by my house, hunting for my keys. But I can’t find them.Crap.
My pockets are empty. The keys must have dropped somewhere, either at school or on the way home.
Crap, crap, crap.
I already know it’s pointless to go back. By now, the keys will have been pocketed by some idiot. Not that they have any value, but the kids at school will steal just about anything for the fun of it.
Dad won’t be home until tomorrow, and there’s no way I’m sleeping outside. My only option is to head over to Sophie’s house. Jane lives too far away. But even getting to Sophie’s means biking down some of the worst streets of Oakley, streets I would never go down alone if I had a choice.
I don’t have one, though.