December 2

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When we meet up on Monday, I wind my left arm through Riley's while Marla hooks hers through my right one. With Racheal on Riley's other side, we make a chain of supportive badass girlfriends, wanting to wow the entire school with our support crew or whatever.

Too bad it totally fails because the school's entrance is entirely clogged by students and we eventually have to break up to get to class. We make it at last, laughing and complaining about all the movies and TV shows that wrongly exhibit how all the other students make way for you when you try to walk in slow motion.

If only real life was a teen romance novel slash movie.

"I wish I owned my own school," Marla says, looking around the crowd with feigned sadness.

"I'd set it on fire," I say. "I hate schools."

"I hate life," Riley adds.

"I hate people," Racheal says.

"We're people," I point out to Racheal.

She blushes. "You're good people. I like good people."

"Why are you four always flirting with each other?" a masculine voice teases us and I feel big hands tickling my sides.

I jump defensively, spinning around to scowl at a brightly-smiling Carlos. He flashes his pearly whites at me and I fold my arms across my chest and give him a challenging glare.

"You know I can sue you for sexual harassment," I tell him, my eyes narrowed.

He snorts. "I tickled you, Tay," he points out, clearly amused by my seriousness.

"You touched me inappropriately without my consent," I say, joking with him as Racheal and Riley walk away and leave me alone with Carlos and Marla who is typing away on her phone already. "Do that again and I slice your fingers off."

Carlos throws his head back and laughs, his broad frame towering over mine because he clearly doesn't know the meaning of personal space.

"But I want to pull your cheeks now, I can't help it," he says, his eyes shining mischievously as he lifts both hands and reaches out with his forefingers and thumbs approaching my cheeks.

Horrified, I slap his hand away and jump back into some student who tells me to be careful. I don't look back to see the guy who enters the class, staring at Carlos.

"I'm reporting you," I threaten Carlos.

"To Shane? Yeah, he'll decapitate me for bugging you." Carlos smirks. "What's up with that, anyway? Are you two actually dating now or what?"

I shrug, puckering up my lips and frowning at Carlos.

"He's hot then he's cold," I sing, waving my head this way and that. "He's yes then he's no, he's in then he's out --"

"Whoa, okay, I didn't ask for the details of your sex life, Taylor," Carlos jokes, clearly enjoying teasing me.

"Ew!" I smack his arm as soon as I understand what he's saying. "It's a song, you moron. Is sex the only thing on your mind twenty-four-seven? Gross!"

Ignoring what he says in response, I turn around and grab Marla's arm to steer her into class. Carlos breaks down in a fit of laughter and I tune him out, searching for Riley and Racheal before realizing they're not even in this class with Marla and I. The two of us settle into our seats and I spend the next few hours drifting between sleep and wakefulness, texting under the desk, and doodling my personal versions of Trump's face on my notebook. By the time I leave my last class, I'm ready to drop dead.

"I could eat a horse," I voice aloud as we head to the cafeteria.

"Because you're half Chinese and you eat everything," Marla singsongs.

"Hell, yes, bring on a dead horse," I counter in monotone.

Racheal and Riley are already digging into their plates when we arrive with our own food and sit down. The sardines on our plates smell so bad I feel like I'll puke. Nonetheless, I'm too hungry to care how raw the fish is. I end up taking a few bites before spitting the rest out into a tissue under the table. Thankfully, my friends are just as gross so they don't care.

"I think my dad's living as a sloth or something," I say, picking at the terrible-tasting cafeteria food. "Like every time I say something to him, he disappears for days before I can even see him again."

Marla hums, watching me. Riley is busy frowning at her phone and I know she's talking to her sister about everything we discussed over the weekend. Racheal, though, seems to be chewing gum and staring into the distance like she's not even here.

"Have you talked to your mom?" Marla asks.

I shrug. "I haven't seen her in two days," I admit. "I don't even know if she's home anymore. I don't know, I just ... I feel like they couldn't care less about what happens to me."

The thought of caring less brings Shane to mind and I turn to look at his table across the cafeteria. Sure enough, Carlos and his friends are sitting there, rowdy and loud as always. Shane, though, isn't with them. I realize that I haven't seen him or talked to him since that morning he slept outside my house. What if something happened to him?

What if his parents found out and got upset with him?

Rummaging through my bag and pulling out my phone, I scroll through my few contacts and find his name. My thumb hovers over it and I change my mind. Texting might be safer than calling him, especially if he's in trouble with his parents.

'Hey, you okay? I don't see you in school,' I type and send before adding a quick 'not that I'm stalking you or anything. I just don't see you with Carlos.'

Putting the phone next to my unfinished food on the table, I start waiting for a response. A few minutes pass by before I realize I'm staring hopelessly at the phone in anticipation.

Could I be any more pathetic?

Telling myself to not be so desperate, I grab my phone and drop it back into my bag. When I get to my next class with Racheal, however, I can't help myself and take it out again, playing Candy Crush under the desk while still keeping a subtle eye on my notifications.

Shane doesn't reply and I begin to worry.

It isn't until after my last class that I make my way over to the parking lot so Marla can drop me home that I see Shane's navigator in his usual parking spot. Frowning to myself, I follow Marla to her Chevy while gazing around in the hope of seeing Shane. I see him at last, making his way out from behind the school building with Shane and two other guys I don't know at his side.

A smile slides onto my face of its own accord.

Glancing at Marla who is talking to Hashir on the phone, I nod towards Shane and she nods back so that I know she'll wait for me. I clutch the strap of my bag and walk toward the approaching group of boys.

"Hey?" I greet them.

"Hey, Toot Toot," Carlos answers with a smile.

"Don't call me that," I say quickly, not sounding half as panicked as I inwardly feel at his use of my brother's nickname for me.

"Carlos, shut up," Shane perks up instantly, bringing my attention away from Carter to himself in the blink of an eye.

I look toward him, seeing him glaring at Carlos with pursed lips. Even though he's clearly not kidding, Shane looks good. Not like good-looking but simply good. He looks happy and relaxed, the bags under his eyes less pronounced and the color back in his cheeks. He looks like the Shane from a few months ago, the one I had first gotten to know.

"I texted you," I say to Shane, ignoring the three other guys with him.

He looks at Carlos who nods and gestures for the guys to follow. Carlos walks away with his friends at his flanks so that I'm left only with Shane. Shane, however, doesn't meet my eye.

"I was in class," he says, his gaze following Carlos.

"Oh," I say, not sure what to say next.

I shift on my feet, suddenly awkward with Shane. I don't know what seems to be wrong but he doesn't feel like himself, cold and distant. Even though he looks healthier and happier than I have seen him in a while, he doesn't act the same way. His characteristic dimpled smile doesn't make an appearance and he doesn't even look at me. The change in his behavior makes me feel suddenly out of place.

"Listen, I gotta go," he says quickly, glancing briefly at me.

"Wait, what?" I frown, so confused by his dismissal.

"I'll see you later, okay?" he says, already stepping to the side and passing me by.

I spin around, my eyes following him as I stare after him jogging to catch up with his friends. My mouth hanging open, I see him reunite with Carlos and the other guys, neither of whom looks back at me. It's Carlos who finally turns to smile and wave at me as he gets into his convertible. As Marla stops next to me, though, I can't help the sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Shane looks good," she comments as the two of us watch him pull open the door of his navigator and jump in.

As he slams the door shut and drives swiftly out of the parking lot, though, I neither agree nor disagree with Marla.

He may look good. But he's not the Shane I know.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*

A/N: What do you think happened, guys? I have like four other chapters and then I'll start going back and fixing some of the things I want to change about the story. If you've been keeping up, you don't need to worry. The editing will only be a minor cleanup. Okay, but what's up with Shane, though?