Love Me, Love Me Not (Incongruent Figures #1) Read online

  I know why. He’s easy to feel comfortable around. He’s nice, nonjudgmental, and apparently the most compassionate guy I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine anyone from my old school giving up their spare time to do something like this. I’m not surprised these animals would sense it, too.

  “You go in the cage with her?” I ask.

  “Do you think I have a death wish?” he asks, turning to face me. “We only interact with them through the fencing. She’s friendly toward me, but she’s still a wild animal. I don’t like my odds should she decide to have a pissy day.”

  We approach the pen, but Tasha’s on the other side, sniffing something on the ground. The closer we get, the more shocked I become by her size. I knew tigers were big, but she’s tall, thick, and has a head the size of a watermelon. Not to mention feet the size of dinner plates.

  “Hey there, Tasha,” Brad says, holding his hand flat against the chain link fence. She lifts her head, sniffs the air, then turns around with her ears back and her rear end higher than her front. She looks like a stray cat ready to pounce on a mouse. She stares for a moment, then, without warning, darts across the pen at us, much faster than the stray cats I used to see around our trailer.

  I jump back, but Brad holds his ground.

  Tasha throws herself onto the fence, her paws reaching above his head and her claws extending through the chains. They’re really more like four-inch daggers, so I keep my distance.

  “How you doing, girl?” Brad asks gently.

  She answers by rubbing her nose and then the side of her head against his hand. She makes a throaty sound—kind of like a purr, but much rougher.

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “She really does like you,” I note, taking a step closer.

  “Yeah. She’s a good girl. Want to pet her?”

  “I’m not sure,” I reply honestly. It’d be the coolest thing I’ve ever done, but between her claws and the teeth I know she has, even though I can’t see them, I’m more than a little nervous.

  “Just hold your palm flat like this,” he says, gripping my hand and lowering it to the metal. He leaves his hand on mine, partially covering it while the rest lies against the links. Fluttering starts in my chest, but I’m not sure if it’s from the contact or Tasha approaching us from the side.

  She sniffs his hand, then mine, then rubs her head against both of them.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, completely awestruck. “I’m petting a tiger.”

  “Awesome, right?”

  I nod. Awesome isn’t strong enough of a word. Neither is amazing. Honestly, I can’t think of a word that adequately describes this.

  Just then, someone walks up to the other side of the pen carrying a bucket. Tasha snaps her head in that direction, then bounds away.

  “Dinnertime,” Brad explains.

  I nod and watch as the person pours the contents of the bucket through a small opening. What looks like raw chicken drops to the ground. Tasha grabs a huge hunk, then slinks off to a hollowed out log in the corner. She climbs inside and out of view.

  “She likes her privacy during meals,” he says, his hand still on mine. He must not realize it, which is weird because I’m way too aware of it, especially now that Tasha’s gone and the fluttering is still there. It’s like miniature butterflies have invaded my body.

  “I’m impressed,” he says, looking down at me. “You weren’t scared at all.” He curls his fingers through the fence and leans against it casually, facing me. The edge of his hand still rests against mine.

  “I was a little scared,” I admit. I don’t think I would’ve done it without him by my side, encouraging me.

  “Well, you hid it well. Want to see a lion?”

  Is he kidding? Of course, I want to see a lion. And a cougar. And a bobcat. “I want to see everything,” I say. “I’ll never do anything like this again, so show me everything.”

  He smiles. “Happy to see you don’t have a heart of stone.” He taps my hand with the bottom of his fist before stuffing it into his pocket. “This way,” he says, starting back down the path. “You’ll like Roman. He tends to put on a show for guests. We might even be treated to a roar or two.”

  We spend the next three hours touring the entire property, other than the pen with the new leopards. Brad introduces me to the animals, shows me the food prep area, and tells me about his volunteer duties, including making meals, cleaning out the pens, building new enclosures, and creating enrichment items for the animals to play with. I have a million questions, but he answers most of them. Whenever he’s not sure, he finds another volunteer and gets me an answer.

  Although I was initially nervous around the animals, my anxiety faded with Brad’s help. He’d tell me which ones are unpredictable and should be viewed from a distance and which ones like to be petted. If I ever hesitated, he’d hold my hand like he did with Tasha, easing my concern about the animal, but spiking my heart rate for other reasons. He doesn’t seem to know the affect that his simple gestures have on me. I try my best to completely ignore it and focus on this amazing place.

  By the time we’re done, I really wish I had a car so I could volunteer here. This is the best experience ever and I can’t believe how lucky I was to be placed with the Campbells. Between how they treated me last night and the new things I get to experience with them, I certainly can’t imagine a better placement than this. Brittany may have been right—I may have won the foster kid lottery.

  Chapter 12

  BRAD

  “Man, I’m stuffed,” I complain, holding my stomach. The whole gang is at a chain steakhouse. We just finished our dinner and will soon be heading to the Homecoming dance. I usually go to smaller, quieter restaurants before dances, but I knew Hailey wouldn’t let me or my parents pay her way. I didn’t want her wasting so much of her allowance on one meal.

  Truthfully, I’m surprised we were able to convince her to come at all. She tried every excuse in the book from not having an outfit, to having homework, to not being a “dance-type” person. Luckily, Abbie was able to find her a dress and shoes to borrow. I also agreed to add on more tutoring sessions. I’ve been tutoring her once a week for the past three weeks, but offered to do it three times a week from now on. It wasn’t until Brittany threatened to have Sherry deliver her to the dance, however, that Hailey finally relented and agreed to go with us as a group.

  The idea seemed good at the time, but Michelle is making things uncomfortable by constantly touching me and monopolizing the conversation. Every time anyone tries to say something to Hailey, she interrupts with some topic that Hailey couldn’t possibly comment on, like how she wants my advice on whether she should take calculus or advanced computer programming next year. Even Abbie is starting to look irritated by her best friend.

  “So, Hailey,” Abbie says, interjecting before Michelle can further alienate her, “I heard that Mr. Peterson is trying to convince you to enter your sculpture into the annual art competition.”

  “Oh, yes, he mentioned it,” Hailey replies, blushing. Mr. Peterson is the art teacher. She’s told me she enjoys his class, but never said she was any good. I assumed she took it for the same reason that most students do—to get an easy A.

  “That’s great,” I reply. “Are you going to do it?”

  “I’m not sure,” she says with a shrug.

  “You should,” Abbie exclaims. She’s not a traditional artist by any sense of the imagination, but her bizarre blown glass pieces have earned blue ribbons across the state and Best in Show at our school’s annual art competition the past two years. “It’s really good,” she continues. “In fact, you should show it to Brad’s mom. You know, get an unbiased opinion from a real art connoisseur.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Hailey smiles at Abbie, but further conversation is cut short when the waitress returns with our check. It takes the next fifteen minutes to divide the bill and get everyone the correct change. Afterwards, we pile into both my car and Adam’s.

  I ho
ld open the front passenger door, expecting Hailey to take the seat since she sat next to me on the ride here, but Michelle slides right in. I have to stifle the sighs her behavior is bringing out in me. Hailey and Brittany take the back seat without a word while Abbie rides with her brother.

  It’s a quick five-minute drive to school during which time Michelle chatters nonstop. I nod and murmur agreement every so often, but otherwise remain silent. Hailey and Brittany have their own conversation in the back and don’t seem bothered by Michelle’s one-sided discussion.

  I park the car and then we join Abbie and Adam again. The girls skip off ahead of me and Adam, toward the back entrance of the gym.

  “Dude,” he says, “did you see Max’s new ride?”

  “Yeah, I can’t believe his parents got him an Audi after he totaled his last car.”

  “No shit! My parents would make me walk to school.”

  “No, they wouldn’t. They’d make me drive you.”

  He thumps me on the shoulder with his fist, then tilts his head toward the girls in front of us. “Hailey looks like she’s having fun. It’s nice to see her loosening up.”

  “Yeah,” I reply. It’s the first good look I’ve had of her this evening because we were running late when we left the house. At the restaurant, she was seated down the table from me, and Michelle and Adam blocked my view of her.

  She’s wearing a fairly simple dress. The skirt is plain black. The top has an intricate silver and black pattern on the front and is mostly nonexistent in the back. Only a thin strip of material runs from her neck to her waist. It reveals plenty of pale, smooth skin. Pale, smooth skin that’s sexy as hell.

  Shit. I inwardly groan. It’s not the first time I’ve thought something like this about her. Ever since she ran away, I’ve been seeing her in a different light.

  I force my eyes away before my mind can go any further.

  “What do you think?” Adam says.

  “Huh?” I ask, snapping my head in his direction, afraid that he read my mind.

  “I asked if you thought she’d dance with anyone tonight.”

  “Oh. I’m not sure. Why? You interested?” The thought irritates me and then the fact that it irritates me is even more irritating. Adam’s my best friend. He’s a great guy. Hailey’s a great girl. I should be more than happy for them if they were interested in each other. He’s definitely a step up compared to Chase. Granted, it doesn’t take much to be a step up compared to him, but, regardless, Hailey would be lucky to have Adam. So, why am I annoyed? It’s not like I want her to be my girlfriend. I don’t do girlfriends. They’re needy and clingy and I don’t have time for that right now.

  “Dude, I’d never do that to you,” he says.

  “Do what?” I ask, trying to hide my frustration with this entire conversation and myself.

  “Date your sister. If you ever tried to date Abbie, I’d have to kick your ass.”

  “Hailey’s not my sister, man.”

  “So, it’s okay if I date her?”

  His words make my body tense for no reason. “Uh …” I know I should say yes, but I can’t form the word.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I shake my head and ignore him.

  “Relax, dude, I’m not interested in her like that,” he says with a crooked smile.

  *****

  The evening ends up being more fun that I remember from my previous dances. It’s nice going as a group so there’s no pressure to focus all my attention on one girl the entire evening. Not that Michelle doesn’t try to get me to pay attention solely to her. During the fast songs, she grinds against me and, during the slow songs, she hooks her arms around my neck and makes me feel like a caged animal.

  The whole time, I sneak glances in Hailey’s direction. She’s definitely loosening up like Adam mentioned. Right now, she’s got her hands in the air as the DJ plays a retro disco song. I can’t believe she said she’s not a “dance-type” person. She looks like she’s having a blast.

  She and Brittany start into some coordinated moves, laughing at themselves and making me want to join them. Of course, I’ve got Michelle glued to the front of me.

  “I’ll be right back,” I yell to her when the music changes to a Rihanna song.

  “Where you going?”

  “The bathroom,” I lie. I find Adam in the crowd and ask him to join me for a drink.

  When we reach the refreshment table, he pours punch into a cup before saying, “What’s up with Michelle tonight?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” I reply, wiping sweat from my forehead. Between the number of students here, all the dancing, and an unusually warm end to September, I’m soaking wet.

  “You need to tell her you’re not interested.”

  “I have.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “No kidding.”

  He hands me a drink. I down it in three gulps and watch everyone else having fun under the flashing lights that reflect off the green and yellow streamers and balloons. From a distance, they seem to move as one, like some weird, distorted creature with hundreds of tentacles spreading across the gymnasium floor. My eyes wander, not really focusing on anyone at all, until I reach her again.

  She’s standing between Brittany, Abbie, and two other girls from our class, laughing at something one of them said. Michelle is opposite Hailey and stands out because of the scowl she wears. She leans forward, says something to Hailey, and then plasters a condescending smirk on her face after Hailey blushes.

  I lean forward, ready to step in, when Hailey shakes her head and turns to face Brittany, completely ignoring Michelle. Michelle’s smirk rapidly transforms back to the scowl, but she retreats and leaves her alone.

  I can’t help but smile at their interaction. Hailey’s got it. I need to give her more credit. She’s easily able to handle the bullshit teenage girl drama.

  “Ready to go back?” Adam asks.

  Just then, the DJ announces it’s the last song of the night. Of course, it’s a slow song. I see Michelle turning her head, probably looking for me.

  “No,” I reply, grabbing his arm. I pull him into a dark corner where she’ll never find me. “I need a break from Michelle.”

  “I would’ve needed a break two hours ago,” he replies, tapping his fingers against the wall in time to the music.

  My eyes dart back to Hailey. Like during the other slow songs tonight, she shuffles over to the side of the gym and sways to the music. She’s doesn’t seem uncomfortable even though Brittany and Abbie have both left her alone to dance with guys.

  While I’m still watching her, someone passes between us, obscuring my view. I don’t know his name, but he’s an underclassman. Maybe a sophomore or freshman. He’s small with glasses and looks like he’d be on the debate team or newspaper. I take a step to the left and find her smiling at him. He stops, then turns to face her. I can’t tell exactly what’s going on, but by his gestures, I get the impression he’s asking her to dance.

  She must agree because he holds out his hand and she takes it. They move onto the dance floor, their bodies close, but not pressed together. Still, they’re closer than I’d like. He whispers something in her ear and she smiles.

  And just like that, my inner Neanderthal comes out with a vengeance, wanting to rip him from her arms. This is different though. She’s clearly not in danger, so I can’t blame it on my protective instincts. This is something even more primitive.

  Jealousy.

  Shit.

  What has gotten into me? Could I really be ready to do the girlfriend thing? How did this happen?

  Chapter 13

  HaiLEY

  “Write down your given,” Brad says, banging pretend drumsticks along with the music coming out of his speakers. We’re sitting on the floor with our backs against his bed. It’s the same place we’ve sat for our three tutoring sessions since Homecoming a week ago. We used to only meet once a week on Sundays, but he agreed to more sessions if I
’d go to the dance with him and his friends. I don’t know why they were so insistent, but I’m really happy I agreed because it was a ton of fun.

  I write down my given, then stare at the geometry proof, unsure of how to proceed.

  “What’s the definition of a parallelogram?” he asks.

  “Um … give me a second.” I scan the glossary at the back of the book and find it. “A four-sided flat shape with straight sides where opposite sides are equal in length and opposite angles are equal.”

  “So, what do you need to prove here?”

  “Well, I’m given that the opposite sides are equal in length, so I guess I need to prove that the opposite angles are equal?”

  “Exactly.”

  I raise my pencil, ready to do just that, but then realize I don’t know how.

  “Look for congruent figures,” he says without thinking. He tells me that at least twenty times during each tutoring session. Apparently, geometry is all about finding identical figures.

  “It’s just one shape,” I complain. “How can it be congruent?”

  “It can’t. Think about it.”

  My brain hurts from thinking. These sessions have been good for me, and my grade has improved from a D to a C+, but it’s been painful. I don’t know what it is, but my mind does not process geometry. At all.

  He grabs my book from me and flips to an earlier problem. He points to it and then lowers the book back on my lap. Along the way, his arm ends up between us, resting against my hip. It’s not like he’s trying to cop a feel. It’s just the innocent placement of his arm between us, and the back of his hand happens to be connecting with my hip.

  Nonetheless, the unexpected touch causes my heart to momentarily stop. I glance down, figuring he’ll move his arm once he realizes, but he doesn’t. It just sits there, burning a hole through my jeans, despite the innocence of it all.

  I swallow, take a deep breath, and try to focus on the problem before me. “So, I need to draw in a line to make two triangles?” I ask, recalling what we did for the earlier problem.