Mika runs a calm hand through her smooth black hair, unbothered by my reaction. “I’m just saying, he seems to be really into you.”
My eyes widen, shocked by her nonchalance. “Should you be telling me that?”
Mika gives me a look. “Don’t pretend you didn’t already guess. It’s so obvious. The whole school knows.”
My mouth moves but no words come out.What’s taking Sam so long? Why did he leave me with her?
“You should compliment his hair,” Mika continues.
“What—why?”
“It’s only a suggestion,” she says, and leans closer to me. “Do you like Sons of Seymour? The band, I mean.”
“I think I’ve heard of them,” I say vaguely.
“They’re playing downtown this weekend. Sam’sobsessedwith their newest album. You should suggest we go. He already bought his ticket.”
“Then why would I need to suggest—”
She holds up a hand. “Just do it.”
A second later, Sam reappears through the crowd, holding milkshakes. Mika whispers, “He’s coming back. Act natural.”
Sam sets the tray down between us. “So they ran out of straws…” he says, reaching into his jacket. “Had to fight a guy for the last two.” He hands one to each of us. “I guess I’ll wait for mine to melt so I can sip it.”
“That’s gross,” Mika says.
Sam looks at me. “Straws are bad for the environment anyway. I hear they’re trying to ban them in Seattle.”
“Are you trying to impress us, or make us feel bad?” Mika asks.
“Feel free to ignore her,” Sam says with an eye roll. He takes off his jacket, then removes his hat.
“Oh—” I notice his new haircut. “I like your hair.”
“Really?” he says, suddenly blushing. “I was worried they cut it too short.”
“No, it’s nice.”
We smile awkwardly at each other. I take a sip from my milkshake as Sam sits across from me. I watch as he stares into his strawless cup, waiting for it to melt.
“So there’s no school this Friday,” Mika says to stir up conversation. “Isn’t that a relief?”
“Yeah… finally a three-day weekend,” Sam says. He looks at both of us. “Do you guys have any plans?”
Mika nudges me with her foot.
“Oh—uh, well, I hear there’s a concert this weekend,” I think she wants me to say. “Sons of Seymour is playing.”
Sam leans into the table, his eyes bright with excitement. “Oh my god, I just bought my ticket to that. I didn’t know you listen to Sons of Seymour.”
“Yeah, I didn’t know you did, either.” I take a sip of my drink, trying to be casual.
“Of course!I’ve been obsessed. What’s your favorite song from them?” Sam asks.
“Oh—” I pretend to think about it. “Uh, I like the entire album. The new one, I mean.”
“It’ssogood.”
