The Problem with Forever(64)

“Excuse me, I was sneaking in some lunch.” He smiled as he pushed his chair back. “I’m sure you’re hungry yourself, so get started whenever you’re ready.”

Placing my bag on the seat of an empty chair, I walked to the podium with my notebook. My stomach churned. There would be no lunch for me.

Mr. Santos sat in one of the seats, folding his hands on the desk. “Take as much time as you like.”

Could I take forever?

Hands shaking, I opened my notebook to where I’d shoved the printed-out speech. The paper was crisp and pristine. All the words blurred. My knees shook. It was just one person I was standing in front of. Not an entire class. Should’ve been an entire class, but it wasn’t.

You got this.

My shoulders tensed as I drew in a breath that got stuck. This wasn’t hard. I could do this. I had to do this. The paper was rattling softly, like dry bones.

I can do this. I can do this.

The words blurred again, as if I was experiencing yet another weird lapse in vision. My heart started pounding in my chest so fast that my knees felt weak. My hands trembled.

I can do this. I can do this.

“The United States of America...has three branches of government. The first being...the...” I stopped, realizing I’d gone too far and skipped a line. Panicked, I looked up and saw Mr. Santos waiting.

He nodded at me, expression patient.

I started again. “The U-United States of America has three branches of government—the legislative, executive and judicial,” I forced out and then forced myself to keep going. “The l-legislative branch oversees...”

It sucked.

God, the speech sucked so badly.

Like there were thousands of professional speakers turning over in their graves, it sucked that bad, but I did it. I finished my speech a few seconds before Mr. Santos would’ve called time. I finished the speech, my first ever speech.

I did it.

And I didn’t throw up.

Keira would be happy to hear that.

Mr. Santos smiled as he rose from his seat. “You did good, Mallory. You got a little hung up in the beginning, but you started over and then moved on. The speech sounds very well researched.”

Hands still shaking, I turned in my paper to him. “Thank...you.”

“You’ll get your grade along with everyone else,” he explained, and I nodded. “Congratulations. You’ve completed your first speech.”

I walked to my bag, shoving my notebook into it. My first speech. I’d done it. Granted, it had only been in front of Mr. Santos, but I’d still done it.

Rider was waiting outside the class. He was looking down at his phone, but he put it in his pocket and angled his body toward mine. “So?”

My lips tipped up at the corners. “I did it.”

His answering smile brightened the entire hallway. “I knew you could.”

“You did.”

Our gazes connected and the look on his face was soft. The swelling motion was back, and this time I let it lift me to the ceiling.

I’d done something I never thought I could do.





Chapter 19

“Want to grab something real quick to eat?” Rider offered as we walked down the hall, away from speech. “You have time.”

My stomach was still in knots, but since the speech was done, I knew I could eat a slice of pizza. I nodded.

“Awesome.”

We headed toward the cafeteria and the closer we got, the more I realized that the hum of conversation and laughter wasn’t as harsh to my ears as it had been the first week. Today there was something welcoming about the noise and the scent of unidentifiable food. My steps felt lighter. I was— “Mr. Stark,” said a deep voice. “Why am I not surprised to see you in the hallway when I am ninety-nine percent confident you’re supposed to be in class right now?”

I stopped and turned. Rider did the same. Principal Washington stood by an open door with his arms across his chest. Light glinted off his smooth, bald head.

Uh-oh.

“You’re not a hundred percent sure?” Rider replied, much to my surprise. “Don’t you think you should always be a hundred percent sure?”

Principal Washington smiled. “Clever, Mr. Stark. It’s a shame you don’t take that quick wit and apply it to your studies, but that would be expecting too much, wouldn’t it?”

A muscle thrummed along Rider’s jaw. “I guess so.”

The forced smile faded. “Get to your class, Mr. Stark.”

For a moment I didn’t think Rider was going to leave. He eyed the principal, a challenging smirk on his lips. Then, after a stuttered heartbeat, he stepped back and to the side. “I’ll see you later, Mouse.”

“Hopefully not in the hall when you’re supposed to be in class,” Principal Washington interjected.

Rider laughed under his breath as he pivoted around. “I don’t know, man. That might be expecting too much.”

The principal’s large chest rose with a deep, patience-seeking breath and then he looked at me. He squinted. “That’s not the kind of boy you want to be spending your time with,” he advised, and I flinched at the wild assumption. I didn’t even think he knew who I was, even if Carl and Rosa had spoken to him. “The path that boy’s heading down is not one you want to be along for the ride on. You’d better be on the way to wherever you’re supposed to be.”