Pulling out my phone, I navigate to my conversation with Patrick and read what I’d last sent him. The apology texts I’d fired off in Mr. Day’s class. They do seem insincere now that I read them back, so it’s no wonder he still hasn’t replied.
Should I send another? No, he probably doesn’t want to hear from me. I don’t get why he’s so sensitive about this. It’s not like that essay was a huge part of our grade.
When Vicky doesn’t emerge after a few minutes, I whirl around and peek inside. What’s taking so long? It takes me a moment to spot her standing near an endcap displaying canned lima beans—currently on sale, apparently—and then I realize she’s laughing. Huh? Are the lima beans doing stand-up comedy? Only, no—she’s laughing because she’stalkingto someone.
I rise to my feet and head inside, excusing my way past customers until I find her.
And that’s when I see him.
Joe.
My heart stutters. Joe and Vicky are midconversation between the lima beans and mosquito spray, and of course Joe looks perfect. He’s still in his school uniform, hair perfectly coifed, hands gripping a bright-red shopping basket filled with pantry items.
“Oh, Sara.” Vicky waves me over. “Sorry I’m taking so long!”
Joe grins at me. “Hey, Sara.”
Vicky looks between us. “Wait, you know my cousin?”
I widen my eyes, attempting to telepathically tell her that this is The Joe.
“Yes! Sara’s in my class,” Joe says. “I had no idea she’s your cousin. What a small world.”
Vicky laughs. “It really is.”
“I quite literally bumped into Vicky while looking for chicken broth,” Joe fills me in, his eyes lingering on her before meeting mine. “We used to go to Brookside together before Itransferred.” He points a finger at her. “I knew you looked familiar.”
“We had some classes together, but never really talked,” Vicky adds. “I do remember you, though.”
“I definitely remember you.” Joe says this in his overly friendly way, and it reminds me why I like him so much. He’s so sweet to everyone.
“So funny seeing you here,” I say.
His phone chimes. When he glances at it, his face drops. “Shoot, I have to go. I’m making dinner for my little brother.”
What, Subwayboy can’t cook? That’s cute. Maybe this is the one thing he isn’t good at.
“Nice running into you, Vicky,” Joe goes on. “Oh, by the way, Sara and I are going to our school festival next week. You should come! It’s on Friday.”
And then my world goes all hazy and dreamlike, because heclaspshishandon myshoulder.
Ahhhh! My stomach may just burst into a thousand butterflies!
That doesn’t happen, though. Instead, I nod along as a blush rises in my cheeks.
“Sounds perfect.” Vicky tucks her hair behind her ear as Joe releases his hand. (Nooo!I was appreciating that hand on my shoulder!) “Count me in.”
“Great, see you both there.”
Leaving us with one final dazzling smile, he heads to the checkout counter.
Vicky giggles and pretends to fan herself, and, giggling along with her, I pull her around the corner so we’re both out of sight.
“I can’t believe you’ve been telling me about Joseph Yang the whole time and I didn’t know,” Vicky whispers.
From over the aisle, I spot the cashier bagging Joe’s haul. “Wait, so you know him?”
“I’d seen him around school when he went to Brookside, but we never talked or anything,” she says. “Wow, you’re right. He’s so nice!”
