Angie said as we made our way to the bus stop.
“Yep.” I tried to keep the conversation at a minimum just in case someone was watching.
“You talked to her?”
“Every day.”
“Does she like it there?”
“No. She hates it,” I said. “Never wanted to move there in the first place.”
“I know,” Angie said. “It’s a shame how they got put out like that.”
“Put out?” I asked. “They didn’t get put out.”
“Well, my mom works with the owner of the property’s wife, and I heard my mom talking to someone on the phone who said that Jade’s mama didn’t pay her rent on time and they got evicted.”
“Well, that person your mom was talking to on the phone didn’t know what she was talking about,” I said. “Jade’s mama wanted to move to New Jersey.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Well, you should get your facts straight before you go spreading rumors.”
“Okay,” Angie said, not wanting to get into confrontation. “You going to the Homecoming Dance?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know. If somebody asks me, I might.”
“That’s nice. I’ll probably be at home studying.” She snickered, as we approached the others at the bus stop.
Angie just sort of vanished into a nonexistent state, and Bo Peterson started working on my nerves the minute I laid eyes on him.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Indigo Summer,” he said. “Where’s your sidekick?”
“Why are you talking to me, Bo?”
“Gonna be kinda lonely for you without Jade around,” he said. “Got you hanging out with the likes of Angie Cummings. Angie your new best friend?”
“We’re not hanging out,” I said, my eyes glancing over at Angie, and then looking away. I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings. “Shut up, Bo!”
“You gon’ start dressing like her Grandma Esther, too?” he asked.
All of his boys started laughing, and I just rolled my eyes. This was exactly why I told Nana that boys were stupid.
I glanced back down the block, at the house next door to mine. I don’t know why, but I wondered where Marcus was—if he’d overslept. I wondered if he would be riding the bus, or if he got dropped at school. Suddenly, he appeared on his front porch wearing baggy black jeans and a white tee, a backpack thrown across his shoulder. Excitement rushed through me as I waited for him to step off the porch and head toward the bus stop. Instead, he stepped off of his porch and headed toward the old white Jeep that was parked in front of his house. He hopped into the driver’s seat and started it up. Pulled off. A sophomore with his own car. Imagine that.
Guess my idea of offering him the seat next to me on the bus was not an option.
Chapter 4
Indigo
The hallway was crowded as I pushed my way through hordes of students gathered at lockers, talking, laughing and catching up on old times. Several students just sort of wandered through the hallway, most of which were freshmen—and lost, like me. I took another glance at my schedule and tried my best to find Room 17A, Miss Petersburg’s home room class. But the numbers seemed to be getting larger, as I made it to the end of the hall and stood in front of Room 25C.
“You lost?”
Standing before me was the most beautiful pair of brown eyes that I’d seen in all of my fifteen years.
“Looking for 17A,” I told him.
“Oh, you got Miss Petersburg for home room.” The beautiful creature was dressed in an orange-and-black football jersey—the school’s colors—number 84 plastered across the front. He took my schedule from my hand, gave it a look over. “You’re on the wrong floor, girl. Room 17A is on the first floor.”
“Oh.”
“You a freshman, huh?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Quincy,” he said, “you want me to walk you to your class or what?”
If I could’ve stopped my heart from beating so fast, I would’ve answered his question. But when I opened my mouth to say something, nothing leapt out.
He just started walking beside me, as the bell shook the walls in the hallway.
“Is that the tardy bell?” I asked, not wanting to be late on my first day.
“Naw, it was just the warning bell,” he explained. “It means you got three minutes to get to class. But they give you extra time to find your classes on the first day of school.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your name?”
“Indigo,” I managed to say. “Indigo Summer.”
“That’s a different name,” he said. At least he didn’t say it was stupid. “Were you named after somebody?”
“No.”
“That’s a weird name.” His smile seemed to give light to the entire school. “But it’s cute, though.”
“Thank you,” I said, hoping that was the proper response, and that I didn’t sound too stupid.
“You going to homecoming?”
Everyone seemed to be asking that question.
“When is it?” I asked. There were so many activities going on the first few weeks of school, I was just overwhelmed by all of it.
“The game is Friday night. I’ll be starting. Linebacker.” He smiled, obviously proud of his position on the football team. “The dance is on Saturday.”
We stopped in front of my classroom. He handed my schedule back to me.
“Here we are. This is 17A,” he said. “You wanna go with me on Saturday night or what?”
“Well, I…I hadn’t…um…” I wasn’t prepared for a question like that. “Okay.”
“Cool,” he said. “I’ll meet you here after class and you can give me your phone number. You do have a phone, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. I’ll see you later then.”
I watched as Quincy trotted down the hallway, his jeans sagging just a little in the back,
