Ever since Breck’s party she’s been slightly warmer toward me, but our conversations are surface-level. Like what time dance practice ends and the number of essays we’ve had to complete for our English classes. They’re baby steps, but it feels like progress.
“She was more fun when she was less tyrannical,” Whitney says as we watch Raegan lecture Tyler Hornsby about using too many staples.
I don’t disagree. “Do you think the baby is putting her more on edge?”
Whitney shrugs, looping her thick brown hair into a secure ponytail. “Maybe.”
I glance back at Raegan. She’s hovering over Tyler’s shoulder, monitoring his staple usage. She’s always been the take-charge type of person. In second grade she was the one who started the unofficial red rover tournaments at recess. When she decided to take up dance in middle school, she stayed committed to it. She was the only one at her studio who never missed a single class.
I immediately feel guilty. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems that I haven’t even made the effort to talk to her about howshefeels about her mom’s pregnancy. Maybe staying busy with all these organizations and activities is her way of coping.
Whitney’s gone back to scrolling through her phone. I wonder if she still feels weird about the whole Jay thing. She never brings him up—probably to spare my feelings—but I don’t want him to be the thing holding our friendship back. It’s time to start making some strides in my twelve steps. She’s near the top, so I try and make a better effort.
“Have you and Jay coordinated what you’re wearing to the homecoming dance?”
Even though I keep my voice casual, she looks at me in surprise.
“Uh, yeah, actually.” She lowers her phone away from her face. “I found this dress? It’s amazing. The embroidery is so classy. It’s blue and white, and Jay bought a tie to match.” She pauses, then meets my gaze. “Are you going?”
“To the dance?”
Whitney nods.
“Oh. I don’t know.”
She turns back to her phone. In a soft voice she goes, “I think you should.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. “Really?”
She shrugs at her screen.
“Okay,” I tell her, feeling a little more hopeful. “I’ll think about it.”
“Well think fast. It’s next weekend, in case you forgot.”
We glance at the homecoming float. “Who could forget with Raegan around?”
Raegan, as if she’s heard us, looks over and hollers, “We need all hands on deck.”
Whitney rolls her eyes. “She’s literally speaking pirate now.”
I laugh, and she smiles. For a fraction of a second, the tension eases between us.
I stand up. “Tell her I’m going to grab water. I’ll be right back.”
She nods, waving me off.
September is coming to an end, and we’re having one of those rare days thatreallyfeels like fall. The cool shift came out of nowhere. I had to borrow Raegan’s extra Wavette sweatshirt to protect me from the slight chill in the breeze.
I’m heading toward the double doors of the school when I hear footsteps coming up behind me. When I turn around, I see Alex heading in my direction.
He’s wearing his black beanie atop his head of curls. The black sleeves of his shirt are pushed up to his elbows, and I can only guess he’s working on one of his many theater projects.
My lips pull into a smile as he nears. “I didn’t know you were out here.”
He gestures across the parking lot. “I’m helping with the theater float. They only want me for my building skills.” He turns toward me, holding up an empty toolbox. “We need more nails, but I think there’s an extra box in the shop.”
“What’s your float’s theme?”
