Bright Before Sunrise(7)

6

Brighton

2:15 P.M.


22 HOURS, 45 MINUTES LEFT


Amelia pulls me to the side of the hall as soon as class is over. “Let’s go get mochas and talk. I know you’re stressing.”

“Can’t. Friday—manicures with Mom.” My answer is quick, my mind immediately shuttering off tempting thoughts of sinking into a cozy chair at Bean Haven and having an honest conversation with Amelia. “Thanks, though.”

“I think she’d understand if you wanted to skip this week.”

“I really can’t. I can’t mess with her routine right now. She’s …” I flutter my hand and try to think of the right word, “fragile.”

“And you’re not? B, you—”

“Brighton! There you are!” Silvia’s a sophomore, but I work with her on yearbook and dance committees. She moves a million miles an hour—both on and off the soccer field—and speaks everything with exclamation points. Her energy is contagious … normally. “Did you get my texts? I need help on my lab report!”

Amelia frowns. “We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

“Oh, sorry! I know, it’s Friday afternoon—finally! You probably want to leave. It’s not due till Monday. Want me to e-mail what I have and we can meet up tomorrow?”

“Can’t you ask someone else?” Amelia suggests. I know the hand she’s put on my arm is supposed to be supportive, but it feels like yet another weight, another demand, another expectation.

“Mr. Leland told me to ask Brighton. But I guess if you don’t want to …” I hope the statement ends with “I’ll ask someone else” or “I’ll figure it out,” but Silvia just shrugs and sighs.

“She doesn’t.”

“Amelia!” I exclaim.

Silvia takes a step backward, but I protest, “It’s all right. Really, it’s okay. Show me now.” I squeeze Amelia’s arm and give her an apologetic look. “Have fun tonight with Peter.”

“Call me later.” It’s a command, and I nod before I follow Silvia toward the computer lab.

“Brighton!” Jake Murphy calls down the hall. “What time should I be at the library on Sunday?”

I don’t want to yell, so I hold up eight fingers.

“Eight a.m.? You’re killing me,” he bellows.

“I try,” I say, shooting finger guns in his direction.

This earns me one of his booming laughs and a “For you, my coffee and I will be there. Large. Coffee.”

Ellie Cooper stops me next, and it’s hard to maintain a smile. Just this once I’d like to get from point A to point B without having twenty conversations. Invisibility sounds like the most desirable of superpowers—I’ll have to ask Peter which radioactive creature needs to bite me.

“B, I’m going to be a little late on Sunday. Tennis lesson.”

“That’s okay. We’ll probably be at the library until noonish.”

“Great! I’ll be there by ten. At the latest. Who’s coming?”

The list is at the bottom of my bag—and if I pull it out, she’ll want to talk about everyone on it. So I wink. “Wait and see.”

“You’re the worst. Ugh, okay, I guess I’ll be patient. Oh, almost forgot, Mr. Donnelly wants to see you before you leave.”

“He does?” Mr. Donnelly is the Key Club advisor. I’m sure it’s nothing, just some last-minute reminders about the book project, but it’s yet another thing between me and my car. I pull on a smile. “Thanks, Ellie. See you Sunday.”

Three interruptions later, we finally reach the empty computer lab. Silvia inserts a thumb drive and pulls up her lab report. My chest tightens when I look at the screen. She’s normally a good student, but her equations are a mess. This isn’t going to be simple or fast. I look at the clock and pull out chairs.

“Silvie, this is kind of …”

“A disaster?” she suggests. Laughs. Then drops her head into her hands. “Ugh, I know! I was just so distracted!”

“Well, it shouldn’t take us too long. Let’s get started.” I scroll down the pages looking for something to compliment. I know from yearbook that Silvia needs to hear something positive before a negative. “Your conclusion is solid; we just need to swap around some of the chemical names and results in the procedure so they match.”

“Yeah, I copied most of that from Izzie. I just couldn’t pay attention today!”

“Then we’ll need to change the wording, or Mr. Leland will notice.” I take the mouse and start this process.

She sighs. “Sorry! You’re probably totally impatient to get out of here. But, honestly, this is not my fault. Anyone would have flaked in my situation.” She looks at me and raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to ask.

I swallow my sigh and let go of the mouse. “Everything okay?”

“Adrian! Forrester!” She says this like it’s an answer, but I’m not sure how it matches my question. When I shrug, she continues. “Do you know him? Super tall? Super blond? Super hot? Both our lab partners were absent, so Mr. Leland paired us up for this …”

She stops talking and stares dreamily at the computer screen.