“He’s adjusting,” Joe says as we’re exiting our building. Oliver’s made a conscious effort to stay at least twenty feet ahead of us. “It’s been hard for him. I’m a pretty social guy, but he’s an introvert. Always listening to music—actually, do you play guitar? I thought I heard Queen coming from your place last night.”
Another embarrassed flush takes over my cheeks, but Joe doesn’t seem annoyed. Whew. As it turns out, he’s curious. So that’s how I end up telling him about my dad, and how he fixed his record player and bought a guitar, and how all that inspired me to write my article.
Joe’s eyes light up as he listens, nodding enthusiastically and interjecting with things like “Queen is the best,” and “What kind of guitar?” And then he tells me they also live with their dad—Mr. Yang, I had no idea he had kids!—although they’d lived with their mom before this, and how she’s been getting serious with a guy Oliver hates. Joe doesn’t hate anyone, which is easy to believe, but he says this guy isn’t exactly friendly. He also tells me about his sister, Meg, who ended up staying with their mom because it would have been awkward if they all left together.
I’m enraptured by these details, so immersed in his life I don’t even realize we’re approaching the school’s double doors. My eyes must have transformed into two gigantic hearts that were trained on Joe this entire time, but whatever. I talked to him! For twenty whole minutes, even! And he’s nicer than I imagined. How can I not have a crush on him?
He holds the door open for me—and Iswoon.
This is the best day of my life.
TWENTY-ONE
Patrick
I’m walking into Mr. Day’s class when I spot Sara and Joe laughing by her desk. He’s leaning in, eyes locked on hers as he focuses on what she’s saying, then he grins wide and loudly declares, “I love hot pot too.”
Big whoop. Everyone loves hot pot.
I’ll admit, this would have been a shocking scene to witness if I hadn’t seen them walk into school together. I’d been sitting near the brick wall with Seth and Jimmy, two guys I used to hang out with in middle school, when Joe and Sara strolled up the pathway, completely passing me without a single glance. I even tried to wave to get her attention, but she only had eyes for Joe.
I couldn’t believe it. She was talking to him! Walking to school with him! When had they become so chummy? And why hadn’t she told me?
So I pulled out my phone and hopped over to her blog, hoping she’d updated it with an explanation, but I was wrong. Not a single update since last week. Normally, she would have texted me everything, then spilled her guts online. But she hadn’t even texted me back last night, just left me on Read. It’s so unlike her.
Don’t I matter to her? What gives?
“Did you see them walk to school together?”
Glancing next to me, I spot Rose standing there. I hadn’t even seen her walk over. Her arms are folded, her mouth in a tight line. She looks pissed. Huh. What’s weirder is the fact that she’s talking to me. I’m not exactly someone Rose keeps in her circle. I’m too loud, too annoying, too immature—at least, that’s what her best friend, Mari, told me last year.
As if I care.
Her brown eyes meet mine. “What’s the deal with that?”
“I don’t know, Rose,” I say dryly. “Maybe they’re inlovewith each other and we’ll get invited to the wedding.”
“Ugh, gross. You need to control your girlfriend, Patrick.” She flips her shiny hair over her shoulder. I wonder if she practices that move in the mirror. I bet she does. “How can you let her flirt all over the place like that?”
I withhold a snort trying to image Sara flirting—but is that what she’s doing right now?
Pushing the thought from my mind, I say, “Lucky for you, she’s not my girlfriend.” I press my palm against the door frame and lean toward her. “So you know, you and I could always—”
“Ew, Patrick.” She wrinkles her nose as she speed walks away from me. “In your dreams.”
I follow her into the classroom. I’m about to find my seat when Tammy comes up beside me, nervously fiddling with the end of one of her braided pigtails.
“Wait, I thought Sara was your girlfriend?”
“Are you serious? Tammy, I’m single.” I shake my head as I retreat to my desk. “Why can’t anyone understand that? Geez.”
Once I set my backpack down, I approach Sara’s desk. Joe’s already wandered over to Rose’s seat, and I overhear them discussing Newspaper Club.
“Hey.” I rap my knuckles on her desk. “You finished my homework, right?”
“Oh, hey, Patrick!” Her amber eyes shine with excitement. “Guess what happened this morning? You’re going tofreakout. Prepare yourself, I’m serious.”
“Good morning, students,” Mr. Day says as he strolls through the door. “Please turn in your essays up here at the front, and then we’ll begin today’s lesson.”
