You Should See Me in a Crown(33)
The drive from the school to Melody is a short one by car, and he rounds the corner to the plaza without any directions. He puts his car in park and turns to me.
“Look, if you need me to handle anybody, I got you.” He tries to put on an intimidating face, but his soft brown eyes and very unconvincing growl give him away. When I laugh, he softens. “Just like old times.”
“Well,” I start, picking at a thread on the uncomfortable Saint Laurent straight-leg pants G had sent over, “it’s not exactly like old times. You know. Given the circumstances.”
There isn’t really a good way around this. That there was a time, whole years of our lives, when our friendship meant everything to us, and he threw that away in one day.
“You’re right.” He looks vulnerable and honest. “But it’s been nice to be around someone who really knows me again.”
And yeah. I get that. I get the comfort that comes with being near people who know who you are, deep down, when no one else is watching. I used to feel that way with Jordan, and up until a few weeks ago, I felt that way with Gabi.
Jordan did what he thought he had to do to survive high school freshman year, and I did the same. It sucks not to get the apology I’ve wanted so badly for the past few years, not to ask how he could give our friendship up so easily, but I’ve missed him. I’ve missed us, and it seems like he has too. And that’s enough for now.
I hold out my pinky in a promise that I’m halfway terrified to make.
“Truce?”
He links his pinky through mine, and offers his usual half smile.
“You bet, Lighty.”
It’s the day of the annual prom powder-puff football game, which always takes place right in the middle of prom campaign season, and thanks to my nerves, I’ve been halfway to hurling all morning. I’m getting ready in our state-of-the-art field house, and Robbie’s words from breakfast this morning that, if all else fails, I should just “play dead” once I get on the field, are ringing in my ears. We’re not actually supposed to tackle, but he has a valid point—nothing is off the table with these monsters, and all options for self-preservation should be explored.
To distract myself from my impending humiliation, I turn back to my bag and pull out my phone one last time to check for any missed messages. Mack hasn’t shown up yet, and my chest gets a little tight. I hope she doesn’t miss this event. Spending time with her is one of the only good parts about this whole thing.
I need to relax, but none of my usual coping mechanisms are working. This game is everything I hate—super public and involving physical activity, with no practice to speak of so I could at least try and develop a strategy—and I feel like I’m about to shake out of my skin with anxiety. Even worse, the members of the winning team get extra points in the race, and I could really use the bump. According to Gabi, while my posters and buttons have helped my standings, and since GPA is the smallest part of the score, I’m still well away from making court. Six spots away to be exact. That’s light-years from where I started, but still not where I need to be.
“Liz!” A pair of bony arms wraps around my waist tightly, and I jump a smooth foot in the air.
“Quinn.” I turn around, and Quinn is beaming at me. I crack a slight smile at how excited she looks, sort of like a puppy who just got let off her leash at the beach for the first time. “I want you to know that I’m not really a physical-affection type of person.”
“Ohmygosh, Liz, I totally forgot! You’re absolutely right; consent is crucial.” She nods her head vigorously, but her smile never fades. “I just wanted to tell you how excited I am we’re going to be on the same team! It’s going to be great. I’m thinking we could run a—”
“Wait. Who else is on our team?” I ask, realizing suddenly that the only thing worse than competing against Rachel Collins would be having to help her win.
“Oh, you know, the usuals!” She waves her hand like that answers everything. “It’s ten on ten. Me and you are together, which is great because I know for a fact Rachel and Luce can’t tell the difference between a linebacker and a cornerback.”
She laughs like that’s the most obvious joke in the world, and I laugh too. Not because I have any idea what she’s saying but because Quinn Bukowski is the living embodiment of a person who contains multitudes.
“Come on! Let’s rally the other girls and get a game plan together.” She starts walking toward the mirrors where the stragglers are still getting camera ready, and I follow her lead. “I’m thinking we’ll do a handoff for our first play, since we want to save Becka’s arm for later—the girl has a cannon on her, and we don’t want to waste it.”
“Quinn, how do you know this stuff?” I ask as she begins gently directing the other members of our team to huddle up. She doesn’t have to ask them twice either. They seem to snap to attention as soon as her bubbly voice gives them an instruction, like they know something I don’t. “You’re, like, scaring me a little.”
“Oh, I thought everyone knew already.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles bright as ever. “My dad is the official dentist of the Colts!”
The minute we exit the locker room, I’m hit by the sheer magnitude of this game. The stadium is fuller for this game than it is during football season. People from all over the community are here, ready to take part in one of the parents’ favorite parts of this race. I even spot Robbie posted in the front row, flanked by Gabi, Stone, and Britt. They’re all waving their arms in the air as I run out, and I grin back at them in response. I want to laugh, so I do. This feels wild, a little absurd. But also kind of exciting. The hum of anxiety is still here, thrumming under my skin, but this is kind of … fun?