I seize my shoulder bag next to my desk and hurry after him, trying to think of the right thing to say, but as soon as I launch out the door, I run straight into Lulu.
Stumbling back, I catch myself on the wall behind me. Once I’ve regained my bearings, I blink down the hall, but Patrick’s already disappeared.
“Geez, Lulu. You’ve got to stop doing that.”
She follows my gaze, her body falling eerily still. As if she’s imitating a statue. “I wouldn’t worry about him if I were you,” she says in this ominous tone. “He’ll come around. He always does—unlike the subway. It stops coming around after midnight, right?”
My reaction is visceral, arms jerking back as my eyes widen. “Wait, what did you just say?”
She sighs, like I’m somehow both unreasonableanda distraction. “Sara Lin, I’m late for a tarot appointment. The cards won’t read themselves.”
As she turns away, I clasp my hand around her wrist. “Hold on, why’d you bring up the subway? Did Patrick tell you something?”
I swear, if Patrick’s retaliating by spreading the Subwayboy story, I’m going to have a few choice words for him. I mean, if he keeps blabbing to everyone, then Subwayboy will eventually find out.
I can’t let that happen.
Her eyes linger on my hand, then she slowly drags her gaze up until her silver contacts bore into my eyes. “Tell me what?”
This time I lightly grasp her shoulders and gently shake her, whispering, “About the most embarrassing moment of my life.”
Lulu isn’t fazed. Because of course she isn’t.
“No.” She takes a giant step backward. “But doesn’t everyone already know? Secrets are a heavy burden to carry, Sara Lin. So, I leave you with a freeing spell.”
Before I have a chance to react, she swoops her arms into two huge circles—like she’s imitating a windmill—and then brings them together in a thunderclap above her head.
“Uh, hey?”
Tammy has suddenly appeared by my side, looking between me and Lulu, as if attempting to decipher what the heck is happening in the hallway. Lulu only levels her eyes on mine, bringing her arms down by her sides.
“Liberty awaits you, Sara Lin,” Lulu says, then draws her attention to Tammy. “Ready to go, Tammy Yokoyama?”
“Yup,” Tammy says, all chipper and optimism. “See you tomorrow, Sara!”
As they walk off, I’m left in a cloud of confusion. What onearthwas that about? What does Lulu mean everyone already knows? She must be kidding—right? Or does that mean Subwayboy knows too?
Ugh, I really hope this is all just Lulu nonsense. There’s no way Oliver remembers the night in the subway. We ate lunch together today, for crying out loud. He’s seen my face too many times since our last tutoring session, including this morning on our walk to school, andeverytime we lock eyes, he glares back at me with that bored look of disdain.
If he recognized me, I would know. I’m sure of it.
I check the time on my phone. Shoot! If I don’t hustle, I’m going to be late for the first Newspaper Club meeting. And I can’t let that happen. Not if I’m going to get my act together and focus on my priorities, because newspaperisa priority. Won’t it look good on my college applications? Isn’t it a school activity?
Okay, so what if Joe is part of the club? And maybe the perfect someone to grant me my first kiss? It just means everything’s working out in my favor, that’s all. A tiny coincidence.
Bring on the romance, universe. I’mready.
TWENTY-THREE
Sara
I’m popping around the corner—with a quickened merriment in my step, might I add—when I spot Oliver sitting in an empty chair outside the journalism room. A silent gasp escapes through my lips. Quickly backtracking, I press my back against the wall and stifle a groan.
He’s the last person I want to see right now. Also, why is he sitting there all mysterious like that? Sure, he’s reading a book—so it’s notthatodd—but why is he all alone?
Is Lulu right? Does he know something? Maybe he’s waiting to confront me, but the subway incident feels like it happened forever ago. No reason for me to ever bring it up again. I’d go as far to say it’s water under the bridge. It’s yesterday’s peanut butter sandwich. Is that a saying? If not, maybe I should make it one.
Here’s what I do know: it’s time to start fresh. Oliver’s only a junior. Ajunior! It’s laughable, really, thinking back to how nervous I was around him. In reality, I’m his elder. His senior. Hemustrespect me.
