All the Little Lights(51)

“I can fix it.”

Catherine twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine instantly revved, and she sat back. “Oh, thank the flying spaghetti monster!”

I chuckled. “Now put on your left blinker because we’re pretending you’re pulling out into traffic. It’s the long stem-looking thing on the left side of the steering wheel. Down for left, up for right.” She did it, and the indicator began to blink and click. “So now you just press on the brake, pull the gearshift down to drive, and then press lightly on the gas.”

“Geez. Okay. This is nerve racking.”

“It’ll be okay,” I said, trying my best to sound reassuring.

Catherine did exactly as I said, pulling out slowly onto the road. After I reminded her to turn off the signal, she held onto the steering wheel at ten and two, gripping it for dear life as she rolled down Twenty-Ninth at fifteen miles per hour.

“You’re doing it,” I said.

“I’m doing it!” she squealed. She giggled for the first time since the summer I’d met her, and it sounded like wind chimes and a symphony and triumph all at once. She was happy, and all I wanted to do was sit back and watch her enjoy the moment.





Chapter Fifteen

Catherine

Rain pelted the rectangular windows that made up the north wall of Mr. Mason’s classroom. The students were quiet, heads down, taking a test, so the fat droplets were the only sound other than the occasional pencil lead breaking or someone using their eraser and then wiping away the crumbs.

November rain brought autumn as it did every year, finally cooling the triple-digit temperatures to tolerable highs. The dark clouds were swirling in the sky, and the gutters were overflowing, allowing a curtain of water to steadily drip onto the ground. I could hear the splattering in the dirt as mini-ditches in the soil began to form below.

I circled my last multiple-choice answer and put down my pencil, picking at my nails. Minka was usually the first to finish, and I was typically second, or third after Ava Cartwright. I glanced over, curious, and was surprised to see Ava and Minka still working. I looked over my test again, worried I’d missed something. I flipped the two stapled pages, checking over each question, out of order, the way I’d answered.

“You finished, Catherine?” Mr. Mason asked.

Ava looked up at me long enough for me to notice her aggravation and then leaned closer to her paper.

I nodded.

He waved me forward. “Bring it up, then.”

His forehead was covered in beads of sweat, the underarms of his short-sleeved button-down wet even though it was comfortably cool.

I laid my test on his desk, and he immediately started grading it.

“Are you feeling okay, Mr. Mason? You look a little pale.”

He nodded. “Yes, thanks, Catherine. Just hungry. I’ve only had a couple of protein shakes today. Have a seat, please.”

I turned, meeting Elliott’s eyes. He was smiling at me, as he had been every time he saw me since his first football game. It was the first time he’d kissed me, the first time he’d told me he loved me, and he hadn’t missed an opportunity to do either since.

Elliott’s last few games had been out of town, but there was a home game at seven thirty against the Blackwell Maroons. Both teams were undefeated, and Elliott had been talking about it all week, as well as the scholarships he could be awarded. College, for the first time, was real to him, making his football victories mean more. A home game meant we could celebrate together, and Elliott couldn’t contain his excitement.

One by one, the other students turned in their papers. Elliott was one of the last, handing his test to Mr. Mason just as the bell rang.

I gathered my things, staying behind while Elliott did the same. We walked together to my locker, and he waited while I fought with the handle. This time, though, I opened it on my own. Elliott kissed my cheek. “Homework?”

“For once . . . no.”

“You think . . . you think you might want to go with me somewhere after the game?”

I shook my head. “I’m not comfortable at parties.”

“Not a party. It’s um . . . it’s senior night. My mom’s coming into town, and they’re cooking this big dinner after the game. All my favorites.”

“Huckleberry bread?”

“Yes.” He nodded once, seeming nervous. “And . . . I thought maybe your mom could come, too.”

I turned my head, giving him side-eye. “That’s not possible. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. But I kind of told my mom about you, and she’s really looking forward to meeting you and . . . your mom.”

I stared at him for a moment, feeling my heart thump in my chest. “You already told her she’d come, didn’t you? Elliott . . .”

“No, not that she’d come. I told her I’d ask. I also told her your mom hasn’t been feeling well.”

I closed my eyes, relieved. “Good.” I sighed. “Okay, we’ll just stick with that.”

“Catherine . . .”

“No,” I said, closing my locker.

“She might enjoy herself.”

“I said no.”

Elliott frowned, but when I began to walk down the hall to the double doors leading to the parking lot, he followed.