Runner Girl

Chapter Seven

As if my thoughts have summoned him, Rakesh comes around the building just as I reach the street, like he came out a side door exactly the same moment I did. He grins at me and waves, and I can feel my heart start to speed up when he heads in my direction.

"So, are you one of us now?" He asks, faking a dead zombie voice.

I laugh. "Yup. Looks like I start on Monday."

"Good. They would have been stupid to let you get away."

My cheeks heat up, but I try to make a joke, even though his words have made me feel warm all over. "You don't know anything about me! Like, I could be an all-D student, for all you know."

He lifts one eyebrow. "Are you?"

I shake my head, but I glance back at the school building nervously. "This place looks harder than my last school."

"Let me see your class schedule," Rakesh says, falling into step beside me and heading down the sidewalk away from the school. He's going the same direction I need to go anyway, so I try to tell myself it doesn't mean anything as I fish my brand new schedule out of my back pocket and hand it to him.

He unfolds the paper and skims it, and then he nods in satisfaction. "These classes aren't imbecile classes," he says, his tone friendly, "so my guess is you can handle life at the Academy."

"Do we," I hesitate, and then I clear my throat. "Do we have any classes together?"

He shakes his head, and I try not to feel disappointed. "I've had some of your teachers, though, and I can tell you that you're in for a fun year."

We stop at a red light with a clump of other pedestrians. "Oh," I say, trying to figure out how to keep this conversation going, but the light turns green before I can figure out what to say next.

Just when the silence is starting to feel incredibly awkward, Rakesh tips his head to a big bookstore on the next block. "Want to go get your textbooks? I can help you figure out what you'll need."

"Won't the school have books?"

He shoves his hands into his back pockets, somehow managing to look even more appealing than he already is, and my heart stutters. "Yeah, but it's a good idea to have your own, especially the supplemental stuff for English and history; you'll want to be able to annotate and everything." A dark curl falls onto his forehead, and I study him for a minute, another piece of the Rakesh puzzle clicking into place.

"You...like school?" I ask, hoping I don't sound like I'm accusing him of something shameful.

He nods, stopping to hold the door to the bookstore for me and following me into the quiet space. "Especially English. We're reading Frankenstein this year in AP Lit, and I've already read it twice since Mrs. Hanson sent out the reading list."

I love the way he doesn't try to hide his nerdiness; most people I know aren't big readers, and even the really serious student athletes on the track team always seemed to downplay the "student" part of that equation, but not Rakesh. I have the feeling that he's not really the type to hold anything back, which suddenly makes his flirty attitude and the compliments he's given me matter that much more, and for a moment, I can't think of anything to say. Finally, I offer, "I've never read Frankenstein."

He flashes me his brilliant smile again and leads me over to a table with the sign "Recommended Summer Reading". "We'll have to fix that," he says, grabbing a copy and handing it to me, along with a couple of other novels and a biography about a diplomat. "You'll need these for junior English, too," he says, pointing to the titles on my pile.

I follow him around the store, mostly just listening as he talks about his favorite books and what classes are like at the Academy, and by the time I check out, he's somehow managed to convince me to buy an intimidating stack of books, as well as a couple of cute pens and notebooks I noticed near the checkout. The cashier looks happy as she rings me up and starts packing two very large shopping bags, and I smile shyly at Rakesh.

"I'll start reading Frankenstein this weekend," I say, wishing I were brave enough to just come right out and tell him I'm interested in him.

Rakesh flashes me his heart-stopping smile. "I'll expect a full report at school," he says, raising an eyebrow at me in a great skeptical teacher impression.

Feeling floaty despite the ten pounds of books I'm carrying, I wave to him when we part ways outside the bookstore, and I'm still walking on cloud nine when I get back to the hotel apartment and let myself in.

My good mood shatters as soon as I see my dad standing there in the kitchen, looking angrily at his phone. He jerks his head up at my entrance, and his eyes narrow slightly when he notices my two shopping bags. "I thought I told you we had a meeting."

The shoes. Between the intensity of the school interview and the heady sensation of flirting with Rakesh, I'd honestly forgotten what he'd said about the endorsement meeting today, but I don't want to let him know that. I shrug, feigning nonchalance and lift my bags. "I needed school supplies. I figured that was more important."

He glares at me, but I meet his stare, and finally, he sighs and looks away. "Of course your academics should always come first. I'll see if I can set another meeting."

Frustration boils up inside me, and I clench my teeth. "I haven't agreed to anything yet, and frankly, I don't think I'm going to have time for a meeting, at least not until I get my feet under me at school."

His expression is impossible to read. "Is that so?"

I grab hold of whatever excuse I can think of. "I mean, it's a much more rigorous curriculum than my old school; I'm going to need to really focus if I want to do well." I pause, wondering if he'll be able to smell my lie, but then I go for it anyway. "I'd be happy to have the meeting after the semester is underway, like maybe in November?" There's no way in hell I want to have this meeting until I can figure out what's in it for my dad, but he doesn't need to know that. Maybe if he thinks I'm willing to go along with everything, he'll leave me alone and let me do whatever I want.

I hold my breath while he considers, but then he nods once and I exhale slowly. We stand there awkwardly for a minute, and then I remember my promise to Rakesh. Holding up one of the bags, I tip my head toward it. "I have some reading to do before school on Monday."

He looks at his phone and then back up at me. "I'll leave you to it, then. Would you," he clears his throat, "would you like to get dinner later?"

I shrug. So far, I've avoided having to eat with him, and I'm really not eager to break that streak now. "I've got leftover pizza in the fridge," I say.

His expression tightens, and I feel a little twinge of guilt, but then his face is blank again and I wonder if I've just imagined it. "Fine," he says, heading for the door. "I've got work to do anyway."

I stand there alone in the apartment for a minute, my good mood totally destroyed, but then I stick my tongue out at the door and whirl away from the kitchen, carrying my books into my bedroom. I unpack everything and line the books up like a literary army across the back of my desk, and by the time I've finished organizing, some of my anger has dissipated, but I'm still too twitchy to settle down. I glance at Frankenstein, remembering what I said to Rakesh, but then I glance at my running shoes in the corner. I can always start reading it tonight, I think as I strip off my clothes and slip into my familiar running shorts and t-shirt. After I run.