“Thanks. We had fun with it,” I reply.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Listen, I saw you talking with Susannah outside. You’re her neighbor, right?”
If one more person calls me her neighbor, I swear to God I will launch myself into orbit.
“Yes…” I tread cautiously, trying to understand his intent. He can usually get anyone he wants. There’s always chatter from the cheerleading squad about who’s going to hook up with the future quarterback next.
“Cool. She kind of flies under the radar, but she’s actually pretty hot, right? She’s been in my chemistry class with Ms. Irene for two quarters now, and I feel like we have a connection. I want to ask her out. You think you can put in a good word for me?”
I know I deserve it, but I’m going to need all of this negative karma to have mercy on me. It’s like, all of a sudden, every dude in Winfield High wants Gracie.
“I actually think she’s with this other guy, Ben, right now.”
He laughs. “No, they’re just best friends.”
I bristle.I’mher best friend.
“They seem into each other,” I point out.
“Nah, he’s in my history class. He has a girl back in Indianapolis he’s crazy about. Susannah and Ben are definitely just best friends.”
A bucket of relief is dumped on my head as I process this new information. If she’s single, that means I can pursue her without feeling like a jerk. I just have to consider the timing. Tori and I broke up today. If I tell Gracie how I feel now, she might think that I’m just looking for a rebound. I need to play the long game here.
“Um, in that case, sure. I can talk to her about you.”
I don’t specify in what capacity I’ll be talking about him. I definitely don’t say I’ll be talking about him cheating on his last girlfriend with a cheerleader.
He gives me a grin. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
I grin back, only feeling a little bad. “Anytime.”
Chapter 18
Grace
Sixteen Years Old
Ianxiously wait outside the locker room for Danny to finish getting ready. Standing in front of the reflective windows of the building, I take in my appearance. Worn, scuffed up white sneakers, my trusty gray-wash jeans, and Danny’s old football club shirt that I threw on for this game after school. My hair is frizzy from the wind, and I look tired.
It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to go home.
Why did Tori and Danny break up?It doesn’t make any sense. They were fine at lunch. She was bragging about being the perfect girlfriend. He was standing there letting her pet his arm for God’s sake.
I shudder uncomfortably. Maybe I should’ve just gone home with Ben.
Danny and I used to talk about everything, but the contrast of who we were before Tori and who we are after her is jarring. I know he’s my best friend, and I have no reason to have a pit in my stomach, but I’m worried it’ll be awkward. What if westruggle to find our footing and the conversation lulls? What if we’ve changed and can’t go back?
My stomach churns thinking about what it’ll be like to be alone with him again. Even though Danny got his license a while ago, I’ve never been in his car. Danny offered to take me to school when the semester started a couple weeks ago, but he also drove Tori, and I just…couldn’t be in the same car as them every single morning.
Plus, I have a sneaking suspicion that Danny is a terrible driver.
In general, Danny’s ability to follow rules appears to be limited to the sport of football. If you need to know every possible receiver route in a two hundred page playbook, he’s your guy. If you need to build a small, two drawer dresser? Look elsewhere. On the scale of football playing to furniture building, I find driving to be closer to building territory.
I don’t have my license yet because Dad refuses to sign me up. Even if I enroll in classes myself, without a car or willing parent, it’s a lost cause. It’s just another way I feel shackled in my own home.
Danny exits the locker room, freshly showered and ready to go. His thick, black hair, damp from a shower, droops slightly over his forehead, and his light brown skin glistens in the moonlight. He’s changed into Titans Athletics clothes and Jordans. With a tentative smile on his face, he scratches behind his ear and appears flushed. Is he…nervous? Aroundme?
“Hey, thanks for waiting,” he says.
