It’s the most passive-aggressive thing I’ve ever heard Mrs.R say, and it surprises me. Is it really such a big deal that I missed a couple of mornings with Jason?
“Amber did most of it,” I say.
All the weeks I’ve shown up for Jason seem to be forgotten. Suddenly I’m not his “life partner.”
The fundraiser is starting to wind down, so Mrs.R says goodbye and leaves. As we all pack up, I feel uneasy about the interaction with Jason’s mother. I’m embarrassed by Tyler’s treatment of me too, the way I’m suddenly worth messing with because Jason isn’t here.
I go from uneasy and humiliated to angry when two juniors Iknow from track come over to ask about how Jason is doing, but instead of asking me, they askMarcus.
“He’s making a lot of progress,” Marcus says in that annoyingly vague way of his, because,again, I’m the one who has seen Jason every day since his accident except two. And now I’m strangely determined to remind everyone here, to remind his mother, that as far as they all know, I’m still the girl Jason loves.
Do you realize what Jason did in last night’s dream?I want to yell at them.
He kissed me in front of everyone. And sure, it wasn’t my ideal reveal for our relationship, but it was still big.
When I’m carrying some empty containers over to my car, I pull out my phone right there in the park, take a picture of my ring—this glistening symbol of everything we had—and fire off an Instagram post.
Missing my@JasonRiddick4real
I think I’ve let people forget that I’m one full half of Sterlingwood High’s power couple. Since this is the first time I’ve been on socials in a long time, I’m drowning in mentions under #prayersforJasonRiddick. I’m knee-deep in my important work of liking, boosting, and reminding everyone I’m alive when two icy hands slide over my eyes from behind, covering me in darkness and making me squeal.
“Sorry, sorry! You were just such an easy target,” Amber says, giggling as she reveals herself.
I slide my phone into my pocket and turn to her. “What’s up?”
“I know we were going to hang out, but Talon just got here—hedidn’t realize the fundraiser started at twelve, as in noon,” Amber says.
“He thought it started atmidnight?” I give Amber a “you’ve got to be kidding me” look.
She lowers her voice. “It was an honest mistake,” she says. “But anyway, I thought maybe the three of us could hang tomorrow and today I could just chill with Talon?”
The hopeful lilt of her voice does nothing to pacify me. “Ambs, we had plans!”
Specifically, we were planning to work on college apps, eat at Tanner’s (our favorite diner just off the highway), and basically make a girls’ day out of it.
“I know! I’m sorry,” she says, then makes a sad puppy face. “Please? Wasn’t I so helpful today?”
“You were, but…”
“And weren’t my baked goods hands down the best of the lot?”
I sigh. “Amber.”
She throws her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she says. She’s blowing me a kiss and running toward a blue van at the edge of the park before I can even argue.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” I yell at her back. She waves and keeps running.
“Another one bites the dust,” Mo says as we say goodbye to our bake sale crew and finish packing away the last few items. The boys took half the leftovers, and the other half is for Mo’s siblings. “So much forsenior year will be all about the girls!”
“You still have me,” I say, because Mo looks particularly despondent.
We’re headed toward our cars when the first big wave of nausea sweeps over me.
“Zad!” Mo hurries over to me when I stumble, even though her car is in the opposite direction. “Are you okay?”
I groan as I open my car door. “Yeah, I think I’m just getting another headache. I’ll go to bed when I get home…”
“Uh, no,” Mo says. “I’m driving you. Give me your keys.”
