9781250209153

We stare at each other across the console. It’s almost like a game of
chicken, where one of us is hoping the other will back down first. I know
it’s not too late to call this off, but I don’t want to. I think of my team. Of
the haughty Candlehawk players. Of the shame I felt when everyone
laughed at my car being towed away.
Most of all, I think of Tally.
“Fine,” I say. “Sell this with all you’ve got.”
She snorts, tucking her keys into her bag. “You’re forgetting that I spend
half my time performing. It’s you we need to worry about.”
I ignore the jab and push my way out of the car. We stand up at the same
time, side-eyeing each other across the roof. Already, I can feel the attention
on us. Heads are turning our way.
Irene meets me at the front of the car and grabs my hand in the loosest
grip imaginable. “I’m only doing this until we get to your locker,” she says
under her breath. “God, your hands are sweaty.”
“And yours are as cold as your heart,” I snip back. “Just smile and work
your hot-girl magic.”
She takes a deep breath. I ignore the nervousness in her eyes as I take a
deep breath of my own.
And then she’s pulling me along like a puppy dog, strutting her way
through the parking lot with a winning smile on her face. I keep my eyes
locked ahead of me and grin as wide as I can. Everything’s a blur, but I
know we’re having the desired effect: People are stopping to watch us.
“The fuck?” Gino laughs.
“Are they together?” some girl shrieks.
“Since when are you gay, Abraham?” someone else calls. Irene twitches
reflexively, but she keeps her head held high.
When we reach the senior locker hall, the effect is magnified: the
shocked whispers and hissing gossip are almost enough to give me cold
feet. Without meaning to, I clasp Irene’s hand tighter.
I don’t know how she’s handling this with such poise. Several people
are blatantly gawking at us. One guy has the nerve to snap our picture.
Charlotte Pascal actually stops in the middle of FaceTiming her