“Oh.” You’re grateful for your Burberry because your underarms suddenly feel wet, even though the air conditioner is finally going. “It’s cool.”
“Thanks. I was mad about some other stuff and took it out on you. I won’t do it again.” His voice is so soft you can barely make him out over the random noise of everyone taking their seats and pulling out their notebooks. “Maybe we can finish up our project after school today? We can work in the library or something?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Maybe he did fall into a ditch after all. Maybe he got a concussion or something. Why else would his personality do a complete one-eighty? Or maybe he’s scared of you. Maybe he thinks you know something about him, something he doesn’t want other people to know, and are going to use it against him.
But then again, maybe he really is genuinely sorry for how he acted.
You know what it’s like, losing your head, saying things you don’t mean to.
The bell rings before you can say anything else, so you have to sit there in silence, trying to figure out what just happened.
Of all the ways you imagined today going, this was not it.
“What’re you doing after school today?” Brody asks as you jog along the track. With the weather so nice, you’re outside today, getting warmed up for flag football.
“Finishing up my history project.”
“I thought you did that this weekend?”
You don’t want to tell him about your fight, so you just say, “We did, but we didn’t get it all done.”
Brody blows a raspberry. “Oh man. I got this new game, it’s likeFortniteexcept you’re a wizard, and you can even do split screen so you can play with a friend.”
“Sorry.” That does sound fun, even though you’re terrible at shooters. “I’d rather be doing that than homework, I promise.”
You hate having to ditch Brody. But your project is a big chunk of your grade.
“Later this week?”
“Bet.” Brody’s eyes slide past you, across the big oval of the track, to the opposite side, where Farshid and Cooper are running side by side. Farshid doesn’t even look out of breath. You wonder how many miles he runs each day.
Couldn’t be you.
“I can’t believe you got stuck with him for your project,” Brody says. “Did he do anything weird at yours?”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know, he’s just… you know, super sus.”
“He’s fine,” you say, surprising yourself.
But then, he did say he was sorry. Not for everything, but for last weekend at least. He even offered to stay after school to finish the project, when he could’ve just given up and made you do it all. Or let your grade tank.
He tried to make things right. A little bit, at least.
And if he issus, or gay, or… well, anything?
You’re not going to be the one to tell Brody.
“If you say so,” Brody huffs.
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “You’re still my best friend.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever actually said that to him before. Not out loud. But he deserves to know. He hasn’t been perfect—then again, neither have you—but he’s been there for you, which is more than you can say for anyone else.
Brody makes a face. “Gay,” he teases, but then he turns serious. “You’re my best friend, too, man. For real.”
