Outside the bleachers, the dance team is finishing up their routine, and now a few guys from a couple of the different boys’ teams have dressed up in some very poorly assembled costumes to do their own take on the Shamrocks’ routine. This is so demeaning.
“So what are you hiding from down here?” I ask.
“Who says I’m hiding?”
I give him a knowing look. “You don’t just chill under the bleachers during a pep rally for no reason. Trust me,” I tell him. “I would know.”
“So I guess we’re both hiding,” he says.
“Looks like it.”
“You could say my friends and I aren’t seeing eye to eye.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “How come?”
“I guess you could say I took your advice.”
This pleases me. “Did you now? You found some new friends?”
“Well, sort of. I don’t know. Patrick did some asshole thing—no different than all the asshole things he’s done every day since the day we met. So I told him it was an asshole thing and that doing it makes him an asshole.”
I whistle. “I can’t imagine that went over very well.”
He nods. “Hence the bleachers. Sometimes I feel bad, ya know, that it’s taken me so long to just tell the guy he’s a dick. I’ve known that guy since we were in diapers.”
“You can’t expect the younger version of you to know who your friends are going to be. People change. Look at Bryce. He wasn’t always a dick.”
“Uhhh.” Mitch grimaces. “He kinda was.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Really?” I ask. “You think?”
Mitch sighs. “Callie Reyes, blinded by love.”
“Well, I was sort of a dick, too. Still kind of am.”
Mitch doesn’t say anything. I wasn’t expecting him to completely refute me, but come on, man. “Who knows?” He shrugs. “Maybe Patrick will come around.”
“Or maybe he won’t,” I say.
“Well, if that’s the case, don’t forget you’re the one who told me to dump my only friends in this place.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” I joke. “I wouldn’t say I’m a shining example of a good friend. I guess I’ll have to step up my friend skills.”
Mitch shakes his head, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “Maybe.” But his voice sounds doubtful.
“Hey, about hanging out...” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. “You want to go out sometime or something?” I try to keep my voice even, but I’m not used to really putting myself out there like this, and it’s got me sweating.
“Like on a date? I—I thought you were grounded.”
“I was. I am. Still. Kind of. But then not really.”
“Uhhh...”
I almost shout, “WHAT’S THERE TO THINK ABOUT?”
Then he says, “I think, um... I don’t think that’d be a good idea right now.”
I nod, but inside I’m shriveling up. No one has ever just rejected me like that. Why did he even bother asking me out awhile back if he was going to change his mind? “Okay. Well, uh, good luck hiding out?”
