The Problem with Forever(63)

Unless the reward was homemade queso dip. Then yes, reward me.

Homecoming was the topic of conversation at lunch on Tuesday. Seemed like half of the school was interested in attending. The other half couldn’t care less. The table I sat with fell into the first group. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of Homecoming until I saw the banners and stuff this morning. It hadn’t even come on my radar. Not because I was too cool or that high school dances weren’t my thing. It just wasn’t something I had the chance to consider, and now that I did, there was a part of me that thought it would be fun. It would be an experience.

But I didn’t have a dress.

Or a date.

“When do you have to do your speech?” Keira asked at lunch. She was scheduled to go on Wednesday, during class, like a normal person.

It was the first time I was asked that question. I didn’t want to answer, but that would be weird and I was weird enough without adding to it. “Tomorrow,” I said, staring at my plate. “Tomorrow...during lunch.”

Keira didn’t immediately respond, and I dared a quick peek at her. Her dark brows knitted. “So you just have to give your speech to Mr. Santos, then?”

I nodded, hoping she wouldn’t think what Paige had.

“Cool,” she said, picking up her napkin as Jo and Anna sat across from us. “I get super nervous when I have to do the public speaking thing.”

“Really?” My brows rose.

“Yep.”

“God, I hope you don’t hurl,” Jo said, plopping her chin in her hand. “Have you seen Pitch Perfect?”

I nodded.

“She totally pulled an Aubrey two years ago, when she had to give her first presentation in science class,” Jo continued.

Keira scowled. “I made it to the bathroom.”

“It was still aca-gross,” Jo quipped as she stabbed her sauce-smothered noodles.

I didn’t get it. “But you’re...a cheerleader.”

Looking around the table, Keira’s gaze finally settled on me. “So?”

My cheeks warmed. “You...you get up in front of people all the time and...cheer.”

“Yeah, but I’m with a group of people doing it with me,” she said as she brushed tight curls over her shoulder. “It’s easier when you’re not alone and it’s totally not the same thing as getting up in front of the class and talking out of your butt about something you barely understand.”

“True,” murmured Anna, who was staring at her cast.

I couldn’t believe it as I stared at Keira. She was nervous. Her food was untouched, like mine, but she talked all the time and she didn’t stutter. She was still nervous.

“Did you really h-hurl?” I asked.

Jo burst into deep, infectious laughter that drew the attention of those around us. “Hurling would be an understatement.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Keira insisted, shooting Jo a dark look. “Anyway,” she continued, looking at me. “I get nervous, too, so let’s both make a pact.”

“A pact?” I whispered. At once, I was so very grateful for Keira and her friends—my friends. I’d been so incredibly wrong about them. Not like I hadn’t realized that during the last couple of weeks, but I should feel embarrassed at how easily I believed the cheerleader stereotype.

She nodded. “If I start to look like I’m gonna hurl, you’ll grab the basket for me, and if you get sick while doing your speech with Mr. Santos, you can tell me and I promise not to laugh.”

My lips parted.

“Deal?” she asked.

I laughed without meaning to, but I couldn’t stop it. It was probably the most bizarre deal I’d ever made. “Deal.”

*

I woke up Wednesday morning, the day of my speech, with my stomach in knots, a burning lump in my throat and a headache.

Rosa was waiting in the kitchen, a bowl of cereal I couldn’t even begin to touch sitting on the counter. She didn’t say anything as I grabbed a glass of milk from the fridge. She didn’t push it when I was unable to touch the cereal. All she did, before I left for school, was hug me close and say, “You are going to do an amazing job, Mallory.”

I held those words close to my heart all day.

Clutching my notebook, I made my way down the hall toward speech, ignoring the way my heart pounded. I rounded the corner and drew up short.

Rider pushed away from the wall when he spotted me. A half grin formed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Hey, Mouse.”

“What...are you doing here?” I asked. “You have class.”

That lopsided grin spread and the dimple appeared. “And that matters because...?”

I stopped in front of him, raising a brow.

He tipped his head to the side. “I had to be here. I had to let you know that you got this.”

My heart swelled in my chest so fast and quickly that I thought I’d float right to the ceiling. He had to be here for me. That wasn’t out of some need to protect. It was because he was my friend and he cared. I wanted to hug him.

My gaze dropped to those full lips.

How would they feel— I cut those thoughts off. I needed to focus. Those three words were a reminder that dropped steel down my spine. He was right. I got this.

I smiled at him and then turned, opening the door. Mr. Santos was at his desk. A paper bag was open. The scent of tomato soup was strong. Brushing his hands, he rose as I closed the door behind me.