“Hey,” Quinn says, and I brace myself, prepared for her to tell me to beat it. Maybe the offer to remain friends has expired by now and I’m pushing my luck. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
Her admission fills me with relief—at least she wasn’t deliberately ignoring me. “Oh, that’s okay.”
She hesitates for a moment before nodding to the empty chair across from her. “Do you…want to study with us?”
My shoulders relax an inch, and I nod. “Sure,” I say softly. “If you guys don’t mind.”
“We missed you,” Remy says, surprising me. He must surprise Quinn, too, because she laughs and raises her eyebrows at me.
“Well, you heard the man. We missed your scrawny ass. Get your stuff and get the hell over here.”
I can’t contain my grin, though the strain on my cheeks feels strange. It’s been a while since I’ve smiled, I guess.
I hurry back to my table to gather my belongings, and then I situate myself across from Quinn. As I settle in, I realize that Ivyfrom three weeks ago wouldn’t have been able to do this. Hell, Ivy from a week ago would have chickened out, but here I am. I took another step in the right direction. I did the uncomfortable thing, and it was worth it in the end.
And when Quinn turns the Cheetos bag in my direction and asks, “Want some?” I actually manage a laugh.
“You already know the answer,” I tell her.
I grab a handful of Cheetos as she launches into a dramatic story about one of her professors. “You came at exactly the right moment. I was just telling Remy about what a piece of shit my Lit professor is…”
And suddenly, it’s like nothing’s changed.
Except everything has.
I wasn’t goingto go to the Senior Exhibition, but reconnecting with Quinn gives me the courage to attend. I step inside the basketball stadium on Friday afternoon, surprised at the elaborate transformation it’s undergone for the showcase. If it weren’t for the bleachers, I’d almost forget where I was.
Long rows of tables stretch across the polished floor, all of them topped with posters, laptops, and demonstrations. Seniors hover near them, either alone or in small groups, presenting their work to onlookers.
My stomach in knots, I scan the dense crowd. I’m not tall enough to find the person I’m looking for, though, so I begin my trek around the perimeter of the court.
“Ivy!” I pause at the sound of my name and turn to find Ben, Kaden, and a woman standing off to the side. Ben waves me over, and I weave through bodies in their direction. When Ibreak free of the throng, I immediately recognize the girl beside them.
Her wavy hair is longer now, but otherwise, Audrey looks the same as in her picture. Slim, athletic build. Dark, dramatic brows. Expressive, brown eyes. In person, the resemblance to her brother is almost uncanny, though I try not to make it obvious I’m staring.
“Well, look who’s out and about,” says Ben, pulling me in for a hug. I hug him back, surprised to find myself smiling again.
“We haven’t seen you in forever,” says Kaden as I hug him, too.
“I know,” I say, hoping I look better than our last interaction. Judging by their grins and the lack of concern clouding their expressions, I must. “It’s good to see you guys.”
Ben gestures to Wes’s sister. “Audrey, this is Ivy. Ivy, Audrey. I don’t think you two have met, have you?”
I don’t expect my name to garner any recognition, but Audrey’s brows shoot up, and her lips pull into a kind smile that I don’t deserve. “No, we haven’t, but it’s great to put a face to the name.”
“It’s great to meet you, too,” I tell her, trying to hide my surprise at her words. After all I’ve put her brother through, no way was I expecting such a warm greeting. “Is, um, Leo here?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, he’s home with Micah. Traveling with a toddler is a huge pain in the ass. My parents are around here somewhere, though. You’ve met them, right?”
“Yeah, I have,” I say, wondering if she knows that Wes and I are on the outs. I’m not about to bring it up if she doesn’t.
“Did you see Doc’s presentation yet, Ivy?” asks Kaden. “The man’s a genius, but we knew that already.”
“No, not yet. I was trying to find it, but it’s packed in here.”
Ben points to a stand on the far side of the room. “It’s in the corner. He’s presenting to the judges in a few, so we should probably head over.”
We all nod in agreement, and then I follow the guys and Audrey around the perimeter of the room. As we slip into the large group crowding Wes’s table, I spot his parents up toward the front, situated beside the people holding clipboards, who I assume to be the judges.
