“Come on.” Bryce groans. “Really?”
Melissa throws up a hand to silence him. “My partner seems to think our legacy project should be a yearly official publication of the Hot or Not list.”
“Is that really still a thing?” I ask.
Callie, Hannah, and Bekah turn to me, varying shades of irritation on their faces. “Yes.”
Mrs. Leonard shakes her head. “Bryce, that is highly inappropriate. Melissa, I’m sure Bryce meant that as a joke.”
“Does it even matter if he did?” Melissa asks incredulously.
Just then, the door swings open and Tucker dashes inside, straight to where I’m seated. “Hey,” he says to me, still panting. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. L.” He turns to me. “Sorry.”
“Where were you today?” I ask in a hushed voice.
“Anyone else like to share an update on where they are with their projects?” asks Mrs. Leonard. “The only group I’ve seen complete one of their tasks was Hannah and Bekah, when they served an omelet bar in the faculty lounge on Friday morning.”
“Actually,” Bekah says, “Hannah found a small support group in town for families whose kids have recently... come out.”
Hannah nods encouragingly at Bekah. “It’s called Parenting with Pride.”
Bryce says something under his breath and Callie hisses at him.
“They’re about to lose their meeting space at the library,” Bekah continues, “and they’ve been given access to use another space, but they need help cleaning it out, so if anyone needs more volunteer hours...”
“We’re in,” I tell her.
She turns and smiles at me. “That would be great.”
Tucker’s hand shoots up.
“Yes, Tucker,” says Mrs. Leonard.
“Yes, ma’am, Waylon and I were actually hoping you could help us get excused from classes on Wednesday, because we would like to offer teachers free oil changes and we would need the whole day available.”
Mrs. Leonard gasps with delight. “Now, that is an incredible idea. So out of the box! I’ll see what I can do, gentleme—gentlepeople.”
“So I guess this means I should learn how to do an oil change,” I whisper.
Tucker reaches under the table and touches my thigh. “I got you,” he says, his gaze still concentrated on the front of the room.
His hand lingers there for a few seconds, before he pulls back and my brain turns to static for the rest of the meeting.
After our prom court meeting, I decide it’s best to get this over with and drive to the Gas n’ Go. I park on the side of the building, and there’s only one trucker filling up while the rest of the parking lot is completely empty except for Lucas’s truck.
Yanking down my visor, I give myself a good look in the mirror. I swear, every day I have more freckles. One morning I’m going to wake up and find out I’ve turned into one giant freckle.
I practice a few faces in the mirror, from fierce indifference to seductive gaze to calculated chuckle.
“You can do this.” I smile. “I’m so happy for you both,” I say. “You took him to meet your parents? How precious. Oh, wow. He’s so slim and trim. What a bod. You work out together for fun? How darling. You bench-pressed him for giggles? So adorable.”
After making sure everything is zipped and buttoned and smoothed, I saunter into the gas station, the bell above me ringing as I pretend I’m still wearing the robe I wore to the Hideaway this weekend.
Lucas is organizing cigarette cartons behind the counter and doesn’t notice me.
I clear my throat.
“Just a second,” he mutters.
