I exhaled slowly, turned off the ignition, and whispered to no one, “You’re fine. Just act fine.”
Then I grabbed my backpack, checked the mirror one last time—blonde and violet, guilt and confusion—and stepped out into the day that was going to ruin everything.
The hallway hum hit like it always did—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking, someone’s laughter echoing too loud for how early it was. Usually it was a sound that grounded me. Today it scraped nerves that already felt flayed raw.
I kept my head down, eyes fixed on the floor tiles I’d walked a thousand times before, like if I just kept moving I’d remember how to be the version of myself that fit here. The one who knew where to sit, what to say, how to smile at the right people in the right way.
Backpack strap cutting into my shoulder, I made my way to the cafeteria. The smell of burnt toast and syrup hit before I even cleared the doors. Sometimes that scent made me hungry—okay, most of the time it did—but today, it just turned my stomach.
Jake and Bubba were already at our usual table in the back corner, two half-empty orange juice bottles between them, arguing about something with the focused intensity that followed them off the practice field. Flickers of images from the videos I’d seen danced across my mind’s eye.
Shoving them away as Jake spotted me, I tried to summon up a normal smile. What was normal? No clue. For the most part, Jake actually looked a little relieved. The pockets of conversationaround me bottomed out abruptly as I passed and then restarted behind me.
Yeah, that was subtle.
Bubba’s head followed his line of sight, and when he saw me, his whole face lit up. “Hey,” he said as I got close. “You decided to grace us with your presence!” It came out a bit harsh, but the way he waved it off suggested it wasn’t intentional.
His reaction seemed a bit over the top, but I hadn’t actually answered any of their messages over the weekend. So, maybe the fault was with me. I tried for a smile again. It probably looked more like a grimace. “Morning,” I said, sliding my bag down next to the chair across from them.
“You okay?” Jake leaned forward abruptly, pale blue eyes narrowing slightly. “You look?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned, dropping into the chair. My voice came out way lighter than I felt, a flimsy kind of humor I didn’t even believe.
He lifted his hands in mock surrender but didn’t stop watching me. Jake never did subtle well. His attention had a way of pressing against your skin until you either confessed or snapped.
“Archie’s running late,” Bubba warned me like I wasn’t aware. Which, to be fair, was unusual for Archie.
Jake shot a glare toward the entrance to the cafeteria. “He’s never late.”
The reminder landed like a physical thing. I looked down at the table, at the condensation ring from someone’s water bottle had spread against the old wood like a stain. Archie wasn’t here because he was changing. Because he’d met me early. Because Maddy said that Mr. Standish was my father. A fact that Archie not only disputed, he denied on every level. Genetically, he was right about blue and green eyes. And because, to prove his point,we’d kissed and the world had tilted and I was the only one who seemed to notice.
“Probably a long line at Starbucks,” I offered, maybe it was too quickly because despite the various conversations and pointing going on around us, Jake focused on me.
Before I could scramble for another excuse, however, he tilted his head, studying me. “Wait. Did you forget Coop?”
The question hit like cold water. My stomach dropped. “What?”
Jake frowned, confusion flickering into something like disbelief. “Coop. Six foot one-ish, not bad looking, blond hair, goofy smile, and your best friend since you were five.” He made it sound like a recitation. “He lives a few doors down from you at the apartments. Typically hitches a ride with you because he doesn’t have a car.”
I had forgotten Coop. Not that he existed, but that he might need a ride. Of course he needed a ride. I was his ride, but I hadn’t really thought about that after he came by the day before…
Bubba elbowed Jake hard enough to make him oomph out a harsh breath. “Ignore him, Frankie. Archie said he’d be late because he was swinging by to grab Coop.”
Jake scowled. “I was just?—”
“Nothing,” Bubba cut in, his tone easy but firm and the look he gave Jake wasn’t friendly. “Let’s stop giving Frankie shit, she’s actually talking to us.”
Looking away first, Jake muttered something under his breath. The tension eased, but the heartsick feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it seemed even worse. I was talking to them.
But I wasn’t really thinking about their fallout and what they’d—something icy cold splashed me, jerking me back to the present. Laughter exploded through a silence so jagged it leftslices behind. Across from me, Bubba and Jake were both on their feet—and soaking wet.
The scent of bad ice and a little too much chlorine made my nose itch. Eyes hard and expression grim, Jake turned his anger on the two girls from the cheer squad who’d upended the huge bucket over both of them.
More raucous laughter tittered out and there was more than one phone in hand.
“You—” Jake started, but Bubba gripped his biceps.
“Let it go,” he said in a low voice that didn’t carry past us. I barely heard it.
