Shut Out, Kody Keplinger [book recommendations for young adults txt] 📗

you going?” Chloe asked.

“I’m, um, not feeling well,” I said. “I’ll see you in class later.”

Before she could ask again or I could convince myself to chance a look at Cash, I grabbed my purse and hurried toward the cafeteria door, wondering how I’d been stupid enough to think he liked me, and why it was so hard not to fall for him.


chapter twenty

“Did you really think I was going to let you get away without explaining that one?”

I blinked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, surprised to see Ellen standing behind me. She smiled and walked over to the sink next to mine.

“Chloe wanted to come,” she said. “But I told her I hadn’t been on a Lissa-in-crisis mission in a while, so she let me take this one. So what was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“Lissa, I’ve known you for eleven years. I can tell when you’re lying. Something freaked you out enough to make you run out of the cafeteria like that. Was it Randy? Are you upset about him being with that girl?”

I shook my head. “No… I mean, yeah, I am, but that’s not it. It’s… it’s Cash.”

I don’t know what made me decide to tell her the truth. Maybe I was just sick of holding it in, or maybe it was the nostalgia effect, missing the days when Ellen and I would share our darkest secrets with each other. Either way, I spilled my guts to her right there in the girls’ bathroom. I told her about the party over the summer, how Cash had never called me, how I couldn’t fight the feelings I still had for him even though, especially after what he’d just said at the lunch table, he clearly didn’t have those feelings for me. By the time I’d told her everything, the bell for third block had already chimed and we were late for class.

“Screw him,” Ellen said.

I stared at her. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like Cash. He’s friends with Adam, and he’s a nice guy, but if he can’t see how special you are, then he doesn’t deserve you. Screw him.”

“Oh.” My brain was in the gutter, because that wasn’t how I’d thought she meant it at first.

“The last thing you need right now is boy drama,” Ellen said, picking my purse up off the bathroom floor and handing it to me. “So don’t bother. You’re awesome no matter what he thinks, okay? Just relax a little.”

She didn’t understand that that was part of the problem—I was too relaxed around Cash. It was too easy to say things I shouldn’t. Like what I’d blurted out at the lunch table.

“Maybe use the extra energy to focus on taking care of the rest of us,” Ellen continued as we walked out of the bathroom. “This strike has gone on longer than we’d anticipated. We all thought it would be two weeks, but it’s been almost three, and I know they didn’t show it, but a few of the girls are getting antsy. Instead of worrying about the stupid boys, why not focus on finding a way to lift morale? How does that sound?”


“Right,” I said. “The strike. I’ll focus on the strike and stop worrying about Cash and Randy. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

She gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my arm before we separated in the hallway.

But the whole idea of not thinking about Cash got overturned the next night at work. I was doing well there for about five seconds. It was hard not to notice certain things, though. Like the way he seemed to be staring at me more than normal.

I worried that he was going to confront me about what I’d said at lunch the day before, about how no one was good enough for him. But when he decided to strike up a conversation in the Religion section, I was relieved that he’d chosen a different subject.

“So have you been reading Lysistrata at all?” he asked, walking up behind me as I reorganized the shelf of Bibles.

“What?”

“That book I told you to read. The Greek play about the sex strike.”

“Oh, right.” Stop blushing, I told myself. I shouldn’t be embarrassed to talk about this. “No, I haven’t yet. Sorry.”

“Too bad,” he said. “I’d love to hear your take on the battle-of-the-sexes aspect, since that’s kind of what’s happening in real life.”

I laughed. “It’s not really a battle,” I told him, readjusting the last Bible on the shelf so that the spine faced properly outward. It struck me how inappropriate it was to have this conversation in front of so many Bibles. “If anything, the battle is one-sided, since the boys aren’t really doing much about it.”


“That’s about to change.”

I turned around, and my breath caught in my chest when I realized just how close he was standing to me. My back was pressed into the shelves, but our chests were almost touching. I had to tilt my head to look up at Cash, he was so close, and I was surprised when he didn’t back away from me. Instead, he held his ground and grinned down at me.

“W-what do you mean?” I stammered, trying to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. I cleared my throat and inched to one side.

Cash blinked and stepped back a little, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sorry. Personal bubble, radii, all that.”

“It’s okay,” I said, trying not to think about a dream that had started with us in a very similar position to the one we’d just been standing in. “But, um… What do you mean about that changing? The battle-of-the-sexes thing.”

“Well, I thought about what you said yesterday, that stuff about the boys not being organized. You’re right. We aren’t, but that’s changing.”

“How?”

“I’ve decided to take over,” he said. “The same way you’re leading the girls, I’m going to lead the boys.”

I blinked, stunned. Stunned and… hurt? Somehow, despite the weirdness between us, I’d thought Cash was on my side with this whole thing. He’d given me that play to read, after all, like it might help me. Besides, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who cared so much about getting laid. Not like Randy. Cash didn’t even date.


“Why?”

“I have my reasons.” He grinned and stepped closer again. “I’m the perfect choice, though, don’t you think? Because like you, I can be focused without getting distracted.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it.” Then he took a step toward me, closer than he’d been before, close enough that he could have bent down and kissed me. For a second I thought he was going to. He was so close that our knees almost touched, and I could smell his cologne, feel his breath near my ear as his head lowered just a little. One of his hands was moving toward my hip when he said, “Because now that we’re organized, this will be over before you can say ‘Surrender.’ ”

I hadn’t even had time to take another breath when his hand reached behind me and removed a copy of the Children’s Bible. “Someone up front is looking for this,” Cash said, backing away from me. “See you later, Lissa.” He winked, turned, and walked off.


chapter twenty-­one

I was making dinner on Wednesday night—just over three weeks since the start of the strike—when I finally heard from Randy.

I’d seen him in the cafeteria and passed him in the hallway, but every time he got close, Chloe would yank me into the girls’ bathroom out of sight or I’d duck into a classroom on my own, not sure whether I wanted him to apologize or just leave me alone for good. The fact was, I did miss him. We’d been together for more than a year, so it was kind of impossible not to. And I noticed that after that first day in the cafeteria, The Blonde never seemed to be with him. I wondered if he’d dropped her. Or if she’d dropped him.

I’d half expected and half hoped Randy would show up to apologize the day after Homecoming, but after the weekend passed, I assumed it wouldn’t happen. So I wasn’t prepared for him to show up at my house that night.

I’d just checked on the roast when the doorbell rang. I’d started to take off my oven mitts to go answer when Dad called, “I’ll get it!”

I heard his wheels roll across the carpet and, a second later, the door creaked open.

The silence didn’t get my attention at first—I figured it was just someone trying to sell something—and I went on setting the table. But then Dad’s voice, low and tired, caught my ear.

“Randy. Can I help you?”

“Hey, Mr. Daniels.” His voice sounded so upbeat. So relaxed and normal. It put a spear through my chest to hear him so happy when he’d left me so miserable. “Is Lissa around?”

Dad sighed. “She is, but I don’t think she should see you.”

“Listen, sir,” Randy said a little more seriously. “I just need to—”

“I know what happened at Homecoming, Randy,” Dad said. “She told me. And I think it’s best if you go.”

“But—Okay. Can you just…”

One, two, three, four…

Randy let out a long breath. “Can you just tell her that I’m sorry? I know I screwed up, but I love her.”

“Sure thing.”

A second later the door closed. I put a plate down at Logan’s usual seat and turned toward the living room. Dad was sitting in the doorway, watching me. “I guess you heard the message.”

“I did. Thanks.”

“You didn’t want to see him, did you? I should have asked.”

“No. It’s fine.”

“Do you miss him?” Dad asked.

I walked over to the silverware drawer and took out the knives and forks we’d need that night. “Yes,” I admitted. “I miss

the way he could make me laugh and his stupid grin and how sweet he could be. I just don’t know if that’s enough to forgive him.”

“Yeah.” Dad sighed. “I understand that. I miss him a little, too. But seeing him just now and remembering how upset you were this weekend… Even if you two worked things out, I don’t know that I could ever look at him the same again.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” I told him, walking back to the table and putting on the finishing touches. “I’m joining a convent after high school. No more boys.”

“Don’t tease me that way,” Dad said. “I might actually start to believe you.”

“I mean it.”

“You don’t.”

I shook my head and sank down into one of the chairs. “The roast will be done in about half an hour,” I said. “Hopefully it’s good.”

“It will be.”

I smiled, and Dad rolled back into the living room, understanding without my saying it that I needed to