Before he could answer, Weller stomped into the room and barked at us to clear our desks, which meant in-class essay time. Leaf kept desperately trying to catch my eye. I could feel the weight of his stare, but I didn’t indulge it or him, instead keeping 100 percent of my focus on my paper all the way up to the bell ringing. I turned in my essay, grabbed my stuff, never looking back at Leaf, but he trotted up behind me and touched my shoulder.

“Sara, what happened?” He sounded sincerely baffled, and I stopped mid-hall to death glare at him.

“How many people did you tell?” I demanded.

The question took him off guard. “I...”

“How many?”

He grimaced. “One. Morgan.”

“Okay, sure. Let’s say I believe that. How many people do you think Morgan told?”

He looked away and cursed under his breath—a word I didn’t understand, but the meaning was clear enough by his tone and the rigidness of his posture. “She cornered me after you left Friday night. Asked me why I didn’t ask you out or kiss you or... She was telling me how much she liked you, and I said I liked you, too. I think she was trying to be encouraging, but she wouldn’t let up on it, and so I told her about your situation. I asked her not to say anything. I wanted her to understand why I was giving you space...”

“Okay, that’s great, and I even believe that your intentions were good, but now the whole school knows, so I’m going to guess that Morgan told Erin, and Erin might have told ‘one other person’ who then promised not to tell, but they went ahead and told one other person... You get me now? You see? ’Cause they know.” I stopped talking to him to point at a cluster of girls standing near the lockers who were gawking at me. “You can’t look at them and tell me they don’t know. And sure, they’d have found out sooner or later, but I wanted that to be my choice. My reveal. I wanted to be ready, but today I walked into school and got a whole face full of suck and that’s your fault.”

Leaf spread his hands and looked down. He was ashamed. I could tell by the flush on his cheeks. Any other day, I’d have been sympathetic to it. Not that day. “It is my fault. I’m sorry,” he said.

A whole lot of good that does me.

But I didn’t say it. Instead, I went to class, and when lunchtime came, I went to the guidance counselor’s office to eat by myself in peace, waiting for Mrs. Wong to see me.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty