Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(60)

I smile. “I got trapped in there earlier.”

He bites his lip. “You look cute without makeup.” We trade places, crossing in the doorway. He lets his hand slide across my waist. “Good night.”

When I get back to the room after brushing my teeth, Laila is already in the trundle bed, texting.

“Are you talking to your make-out partner?”

“Rowan? No. It’s my mom.” She tucks the phone under her pillow. “What do you think of Rowan anyway?”

“I think he lives too far away to put any effort into analyzing him.” The minute I say that though my mind drifts back to Trevor. “What was with all his questions? Why do you think he’s so curious about our school and stuff?”

“I don’t know.”

I stare at the wall, where moonlight, projected through the blinds, stripes the darkness with white. “You know who Duke kind of knows?”

“Who?”

“Trevor.”

“That guy you tried to do Thought Placement on?”

“Yeah.” I prop myself up on my elbow. “And he was kind of a jerk to him.”

“How so?”

“Trevor came all the way to the locker room to tell Duke that he did a good job, and Duke and his buddies laughed at him. Duke couldn’t even remember his name.”

Laila laughs. “Are you feeling protective of the cute Norm boy?”

I collapse back down onto my pillow. “No,” I say without conviction. He was cute though.





CHAPTER 26


ig?NO[R]?Mi?ny: n. public shame





Ever since Friday night, I feel terrible. I can’t even look Trevor in the eye. I feel like I’m partially responsible for what happened to his shoulder just because my old school is to blame.

Rowan runs up to me in the hall at school and grabs me by the arms. “Addison, Addison,” he says, out of breath. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I nearly drop my notebook but manage to keep it in my grip despite Rowan’s hold on my arms. “What’s up?”

“Stephanie’s throwing a party for Trevor tonight. You have to come.”

“Is it his birthday?”

“No, this is even better. Today he can throw again.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. And he wanted a party?” Considering what we talked about the other night, how he realized he would never play football competitively again, a party seems like the last thing he would want.

“No, of course not, it’s a surprise.”

“Rowan, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No, it’s a great idea.” He looks around and then lowers his voice. “So how’s your friend Laila doing? Has she asked about me yet?”

If Rowan thinks Laila kissing him on the cheek is a big deal to her, he is going to be sorely disappointed. “Um … no?”

He scans the hall. “There’s Katie. I gotta go invite her.” He starts to leave but then turns around and writes on my notebook cover. “That’s Steph’s address. Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”

At five forty-five I show up at Stephanie’s house. I know I have to talk to Trevor about my old school, about the fact that I’m not actually from California at all. If I don’t, I might be eaten alive by the guilt that is now in the process of gnawing a hole through my stomach. I vow that I’ll find the right time tonight.

Stephanie answers the door, and her smile disappears. “Oh, hey, Addison.”

I look her up and down. “You’re wearing your cheer uniform.”

“The whole cheer team is here. It’s supposed to remind Trevor of how we first met.”

“Oh.” I wonder if Trevor wants to remember that. Okay, not completely true—what I really wonder is if I want Trevor to remember that.

“Come in. The party’s out back.” She leads me through the entry and then to an enormous kitchen, where she grabs something out of the cupboard and continues on through some French doors into the yard.

The backyard is big and set up like a mini football stadium—lines painted across the grass and everything. In the tiny end zone is a bin full of footballs. My eyes slowly drift, following the lines, to the opposite end zone a good fifty feet away, where an empty bucket sits waiting. We join a couple of other cheerleaders.

“Are we going to play a game and see how many of us can land a football in that bucket?” I ask, hoping Stephanie will say yes.

“No. That’s for Trevor. He’s going to give us a show.” Stephanie sweeps her arm through the air and points to the lawn chairs set up on the side.

“This is his first day. You probably shouldn’t push it too hard.”

She exchanges a glance with the girl next to her. The kind of glance that says they talk about me when I’m not around. “This is the day he’s been looking forward to for a year.”

“Him or you?” I try to say it nice, but her sour expression indicates I may have failed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? All of us have been excited for this day. You don’t know because you weren’t here.” The girls nod their heads in agreement. Stephanie starts to put her hands on her hips, but then must remember she’s holding something because she looks down and says, “Oh.” She hands the small plastic bottle she had retrieved from the kitchen to the girl on her right. “We only had Tylenol. Will that work?”