“Youstolemy key?”
Max looks sick. “It was for a stupid bet, back in August, before our first football game. But I never really meant to go through with it.”
“But you thought about it? About…” I can barely get the words out, imagining what they must have had planned. “About vandalizing our equipment? Ruining our flags?”
I know I’m right when he squeezes his eyes shut. “For like asecond.I know I can be competitive, but I wanted to win on my own merits, not because I sabotaged my competitor.”
I take a jerky step backward. “I just…I can’t believe you did that. I would never have done something like that to you or anyone in percussion.”
“I know…”
“I was livid with myself for losing it, and Sire was so disappointed in me,” I whisper. “But it turns out it was never my fault to begin with. You stole it from me.” I shake my head in disbelief. “And you nevertoldme, Max. How can I possibly trust you?”
“Because it was almost two months ago,” he pleads. “Things have changed so much—I’vechanged so much. I swear I would never hurt you. That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. I imagined seeing your face when you opened that shed and I knew I could never do anything like that to you.”
I wrap my arms around my stomach and stumble backward a few more steps.
“I should have told you, but I was scared that if I did, thenthiswould happen.” He gestures between the two of us. “I couldn’t risk losing you. You’re the best thing in my life—you always have been. Even when we were kids, I loved your giant curly hair, and how your laugh was louder than anyone else’s, and how competitive you were, and the way I could say whatever I wanted and you always understood what I meant. And now”—he gestures to me again—“you’re so much more than even that.”
“I’m the ‘best thing in your life,’ but you can’t admit we’re dating? That’s not how this works.”
“That’s not fair,” he says quietly. “They caught me off guard.Youcaught me off guard. I thought we’d decided we were going to keep things a secret and I wasn’t prepared…”
The same nausea from this morning is back, burning my throat and making my stomach swim. “You already made it perfectly clear that percussion is the most important thing in your life. Isn’t that what you told me when I came to your apartment? Well, you’re in luck, they’re going for milkshakes right now. Why don’t you go spend the rest of the evening with them? Because you definitely aren’t spending it withme.”
I turn and walk away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
We don’t play D&D the next day. Maybe I’m being childish or emotional, but the idea of sitting next to Max for an entire evening feels more than impossible. I text the group Sunday morning to tell them I’m not feeling well. I know I’m not fooling Max, or any of them, but they don’t push me on it. I finally clomp down the stairs to the kitchen around onep.m. when I’m too hungry to hold out any longer.
“Hey, there you are!” Mom says brightly. She’s at the kitchen table with piles of green fabric spread around her, while Kelsey is putting together a Lego set in the living room. “I was going to wake you up hours ago, but I got a text from Melanie that you aren’t feeling well?”
Of course she found out from Melanie before I even came downstairs.
“Yeah, just a little under the weather.”
“And I was thinking you’d be on top of the world afterthe amazing day you had yesterday. Are you still buzzing from it?”
“Yep,” I say flatly. “Totally buzzing.”
Kelsey pokes her head into the kitchen. “Did you get Max sick? I was hoping he was going to come over today so I could show him what I’m making.”
“I’m not sure how he’s feeling.”
That part is the truth at least. Max hasn’t texted and I have no intention of reaching out beyond my single group text this morning. I’m not even mad at him. Or, at least, that’s not the main emotion I’m feeling. It’s more that I feel so heavy I can barely lift my feet off the ground or my head off the pillow. I’m surprised I can support my own weight right now.
“You should eat something. You look pale,” Mom says. “But first come look at what I’m working on!”
She lifts a dark green long-sleeved shirt to reveal that she’s ironed an absolutely enormous picture of my face to the front of it, along with the wordsGlen Vale Marching KnightsandColor Guard Captainonto the back.
“What do you think? I’m making enough so the whole family can match at state. Grandma and Grandpa should be coming along with Aunt Suzanne and Uncle Bill, and I didn’t want to leave them out. And don’t ruin the surprise, but I also made a shirt for Melanie with Max’s face on it. She’s going to love it!”
I stare in shock. I know I should be grateful that she cares enough to make themed clothes, and that my extended family cares enough to come to state, especially given theconversation I had with Max about his dad. But my face is sobigon the shirt. She didn’t even include my neck or shoulders. It’s just a stark oval cutout of my face. Somehow, she’s also managed to choose the most unflattering photo from this season—my hair is extra frizzy, my face is pink and shiny with oil, and at least one pimple is highly visible. I’m mortified at the idea of them all walking around with these shirts on. They might as well also wear neon hats that blinkMy Daughter Is a Huge Dork!
“It’s…uh, it’s a little much, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely not! There’s no amount of cheering or excitement that could be too much for this moment. This isstate.The end of your high school marching band career. The end of an era.” Her eyes glisten with tears.
