Date Me, Bryson Keller(25)

“That name, Donald. I’ve told you not to use it before. It upsets me,” Priya jokes.

“Yeah, I’m really not that close to him. We’re just working on our drama project,” I explain.

Even though I’m totally not looking for him, I do notice that Bryson is missing when Dustin and the rest of the soccer team walk into the cafeteria. It’s a rare occurrence for the Cougars to even be here. The team usually leaves school for lunch.

I pull my phone from my pocket and open my chat with Kelly. Did you get detention?

“Who’s Kelly?” Donny asks. His eyes are trained on my phone screen. I angle it away from him as I read the reply.

Yeah. It’s okay though. No big deal.

    My eyes move to Bryson’s blazer. He did end up getting into trouble because of it—because of me.

“Kai, who’s Kelly?” Donny asks again.

“No one.” I can feel both of my friends’ eyes on me. “It’s really no one.”

My phone vibrates with a text. You eating out?

“No One seems to be texting you a lot,” Priya teases.

“Is it Kelly Gold?” Donny asks.

“No.”

“Kelly O’Brien?”

“Donny, be quiet.” His rattling off of Kelly names is messing with my thoughts.

Where are you? I text back.

“Kelly De Palo?”

“Donny,” I grumble. “Give it a rest.” I know my words are futile. When Donny latches onto something, he doesn’t let it go. He’s like an untrained puppy that way. It’s one of his charms, but also really annoying.

In the west quad. Why? Want to visit me?

I check my watch. The lunch break is almost over.

“Maybe Kelly is short for Kelsey?” Donny muses. “Maybe it’s Kelsey Scott.”

“Donald, learn to read the room. Jesus,” Priya says. “Kai clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.” I watch as Priya gets up from her seat. “I need the bathroom.”

“I need to go, too,” I say as I gather my things. “I’ll see you later.”

I throw away my trash and run up to the lady at the counter to place another order before the cafeteria closes. Two minutes later, my order is served. With no time to waste, I sprint to make it to detention before the bell rings.

    Setting a new world record, I arrive at the west quad breathless and red in the face. I spot Bryson leaning against the wall. For most students, lunchtime detention means being sent to this quad and staring at a wall in silence. It’s why we call it Purgatory. Other offenders stand around him. Bryson doesn’t see me at first. His eyes are on his phone.

I approach him and clear my throat. Bryson looks up, surprised. He makes to hide his phone but then realizes that it’s me. He smiles like he’s happy to see me. Is he?

“You’re here?” He looks at his watch and then at my heaving chest. “You didn’t actually have to come.”

“I did,” I wheeze.

“Why is that?”

I hold out a warm grilled cheese sandwich and a bottle of apple juice. He looks from the offered items to my face, studying me.

“For me?” He smiles, showing his dimple.

“Yes.”

He takes his lunch just as the bell rings.

“I always try to give as good as I get,” I say.





10


The library is my favorite place in all of Fairvale Academy. Located in block A, it is large enough to house a very modern computer lab. Even though the end-of-school bell has just rung, the library is already bustling as I enter. To my right and walled off by glass is the computer lab, directly in front of me are various workstations and alcoves with a few comfortable chairs thrown in the mix, and to my left are rows and rows of bookshelves.

Someone bumps into me as they race into the library. Before I can complain, they throw me a whispered apology. I watch as they head toward the computer lab. Spaces are limited and it’s often on a first come, first served basis.

“It’s good to see you, Kai,” says Ms. Tarkovsky, the head librarian. I move to put my belongings behind the counter.

“You too, Ms. Tarkovsky.”

“You can work the front desk while I finalize our latest guest speaker.” I nod and watch as the librarian heads toward her office. I love that the library invites authors for events. It’s amazing to meet people who are living my dream.

    I take up my post behind the computer, ready to scan books in and out. The first student who approaches me is none other than Shannon Flockhart.

“Jesus Christ, Shannon. Are you stalking me now?”

Shannon ignores my question. “You and BK seem to be really close lately?”

“BK?” I know who she means, but the jock nickname doesn’t fit the boy I’ve spent time getting to know. I don’t share my thoughts with her, though. If there’s one thing Shannon is known for, it’s her desire for a scoop.

“Bryson, silly.” She pats my shoulder as if we’re old friends. The overly chumminess is so fake that it sets my teeth on edge.

“What do you want, Shannon?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to end this charade.

“Tell me who Bryson’s dating now. I’ll even pay you,” she says. “No one has updated their Instagram with evidence. We all want to know.”