He stops mid sentence and throws out his arms. “What?”
“We have to clean this up.”
“We? I’m not the one who tried to carry more than I could handle. This is your mess.”
My hands shake as I look at the explosion of fruit and syrup. As much as I hate to admit it, this is my fault. I couldn’t just let him have more boxes than me. What was supposed to be a way to help others transformed into something selfish. If Mrs. O’Riley walks in, we’re doomed.I look up at him with wide eyes. “You’re right, but I can’t do it by myself.”
He says nothing as he stares at me.
“Please.” The word comes out as a shaky breath.
His shoulders sag, and he nods.
I drop to my knees and start scooping peaches into the bowl with my bare hands. Connor crouches beside me and does the same. How could I have been so stupid? My vision blurs as I think of all the ways I messed up and what this means for the future. Mrs. O’Riley is not going to let me come back after seeing what happened on the camera footage. I can only hope we get this cleaned up before she comes back.
A loud shriek breaks through the room. “What is going on in here?”
So much for hope.
We both jump up at the sound of Mrs. O’Riley’s voice. Or, at least, Connor does. I’m less graceful. My feet slide in the syrup as I try to stand, and I lose my balance. My arms flail, but Connor catches me with one hand on my elbow and the other on my back. His fingers linger only until I steady myself. Then he pulls them back.
Mrs. O’Riley’s face is purple, and she shakes with rage. “I knew you were bad news. I knew it. But I had so much to do that I ignored the warning bells going off in my head.”
“I’m so sorry.” I take a careful step toward her. “We’ll clean it up and then work on the rest of the meals.”
“You’ll do no such thing. I want you out of my kitchen before you can do any more damage.”
“We were trying to surprise you by finishing up all three-hundred meals before you came back. We got a little eager and dropped the peaches,” Connor says.
She crosses her arms over her chest unconvinced.
Connor takes a deep breath. “My father is Brendan Williams. I’m sure he will be happy to pay for cleaning and loss of food when I explain my accident.”
Recognition flashes in her eyes. “Brendan Williams.”
Even after my dad stole all his money, the real estate mogul maintained his reputation. I’m equal parts jealous and thankful for what Connor is doing.
Mrs. O’Riley nods. “Yes. Okay. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.”
Connor looks over at me. “Consider us even for Hardy’s party.”
12
MOST ATHLETIC
I yawnfor what feels like the millionth time as I step off the bus at Trinity Park for our cross country meet. Other schools have already arrived and are gathered in small groups in the large grassy field of this meet’s location. The sun is just peeking through on the horizon, and the pleasant briskness in the air will disappear once it’s completely risen.
“You gonna make it?” Jonathan asks as he steps off behind me. “You were yawning the entire ride over.”
I nod as I pull one of my arms across my chest to stretch. My body aches from a sleepless night of tossing and turning in bed plus the hour-long bus ride to get here. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the sense of grogginess that has settled deep in my muscles. Will I cross the finish line this morning? Of course, but I won’t be setting any PRs, that’s for sure.
“You sure you’re okay?”Sarah asks. “It would be a shame for you to fail spectacularly at the senior meet.”
I groan because she’s right. That would suck.
Most high school sports have senior night, an evening dedicated to all the athletes about to graduate. Students walk across the court or the field with their parents as someone announces their accomplishments. Cross country? Since our races are at seven in the morning, we get a meet that no classmates attend and call it a day.
Not that the parents don’t try to make it special. I can already smell the savory aroma of bacon coming from Citrus Prep’s pop-up canopy tent. My mouth waters as I think about what’s inside. I can’t see the feast—thanks to large canvas banners hanging from the sides of the tent, each with a picture of a different senior—but I can already picture all the food. Several parents came out early this morning with a giant electric griddle to make breakfast for everyone. Bacon, sausage, pancakes, scrambled eggs.
