Leah on the Offbeat (Creekwood #2)(75)

My heart flips. “What’s the problem?”

“I swear to God, Leah.” She shakes her head, smiling faintly. “And you think I’m the dense one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just stares at me with an expression I can’t begin to decipher. Then she looks away, tapping back into her phone.

I feel weird watching her type, so I turn to face the lake, resting my arms on the railing. It’s a quiet spot, with trees overhanging so thickly, you can only see a tiny pool of inky black water. But the effect makes it look like a wild, untamed lagoon. Distantly, in the pavilion, the song changes tempo. Something different but familiar. I shut my eyes and try to place it.

“Check your Tumblr,” Abby says suddenly.

My eyes flutter open. “What?”

“Just check it.” Then she tucks her face into the crook of her elbow.

I tap into my phone, staring into the brightness of my screen. My app is still logged into my art page, and I can see right away that I have a new ask. I don’t know how Abby knew that. Unless— I tap into the message, feeling like the ground just tilted. I have to read it three times before the words sink in.

Commission request: two girls kissing on prom night.

The whole world seems to freeze, and my lungs empty like a balloon. Two girls kissing. On prom night. I look at Abby, but her face is still buried.

“Is this . . .” My voice shakes. “Are you joking?”

She lifts her head to peek up at me. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because. I don’t know.”

“Leah, I’m just. I’ve been losing my mind.” Her whole body is tense and still, skirt trailing to the floor of the platform. And I swear, I’ve stopped breathing. Abby Suso wants to kiss me. At prom. Right now. My whole body feels electric: chest and stomach and everywhere below. It feels like having to pee, except it’s not actually pee. It’s lightning.

She laughs nervously. “Please say something.”

My hands fall to my sides. “I mean, obviously.” I swallow. “Obviously, I like you.”

Her face falls. “But.”

“It’s just the timing,” I say.

“I know.”

“Like, you don’t even.” I shut my eyes. “I just. I really like you.”

“Me too. God. I think I’m . . .”

“Me too.”

We just stare at each other. My heart is pounding out of my chest.

“I mean, the good news is that we’ll be at the same school,” I say finally.

“We’ll be roommates.” She sniffs, and then smiles.

“Yeah. That’s probably not a good idea.”

“I don’t care.” She stands, suddenly, brushing her skirt down. Then she walks over to the railing beside me, hanging her arms over the side.

I tilt my head toward her. “I just think we should let some time pass.”

She sucks in a breath. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you’re right. You’re very practical, Leah.”

“I know.” I swallow. “This will be good, though. Nick will have moved on—”

“Wait, are you talking about Taylor Metternich’s face barnacle?” Abby asks. “Because I’m pretty sure that Nick has moved on.”

I smile sadly. “See, I don’t think he has. Not even close.”

I turn to look at her, but she’s staring out at the lake.

I keep talking. “It’s just that everything’s a mess, you know? With prom and graduation—and you’re right, we don’t want drama. Nick would be so—”

“I know,” Abby says quickly. “Yeah. Nick would lose it. He’s already losing it. And Garrett too, probably.”

“God.” Garrett. “Yeah.”

“It just sucks.” She sighs. “I mean, I get it. I totally get it. And I shouldn’t have even—it’s not.” She covers her face. “I don’t know. I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not.”

She laughs flatly. “Yeah, but I am. This is so—just. I mean, I screwed this up a long time ago. We could have been—” But she cuts herself off.

For a moment, we’re silent. I feel my eyes start to prickle.

“We could have been what?” I ask finally.

“We could have been like Simon and Bram,” she says, her voice quivering faintly. “I was so—like, this whole time, this could have been us, you know? Being the cutest girlfriends and kissing and grossing everyone out with how in love we are.”

And there it is: that runaway tear. I wipe it away quickly, but it regenerates. I hate crying. I hate it more than anything in the world.

Abby sniffs. “We need a Time-Turner.”

I laugh, and it sounds like a hiccup. “God. Are you like the biggest Potterhead ever now?”

“Not really,” she says, smiling tearfully. Then she sighs. “I’m literally just trying to impress a girl.”

“Oh.” My heart thumps.

“So, yeah. This sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“And obviously I don’t want to hurt anyone.”