Matthew frowned. "Sorry. It's just, finals are on Saturday, and things have been—"
"Tense?" Claire interrupted. "Pressure filled? Insanely exhausting?"
"Yeah, those would work." He smiled the wide, genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle up the tiniest bit at the corners. "But after this weekend, it'll all be done, one way or another."
Down the hall, there was a series of high-pitched squeals as one of the show choirettes opened her locker and a flotilla of helium balloons drifted out. Claire wondered if she should stuff Matthew's locker before the state finals—usually it was something that guys did for girls and not the other way around, but she wanted to do something. Maybe she'd just make a sign to hold up at the game, the way the rest of the team's girlfriends did.
Claire stretched up and kissed him, just as the warning bell rang. "You're going to be fantastic. The match is going to be fantastic. And I'm going to be right there, screaming my head off. Now go, before you're late."
"Yeah, you're right. I hope you're right." He turned and hitched his bag up on his shoulder. "I love you."
"I love you, too." She threw herself into the scurrying mass of people who were scrambling for classrooms, and as she headed down the hall she caught sight of one of the leafframed posters. She was going to an actual dance. With an actual boyfriend.
Claire smiled to herself. Emily was going to die a thousand deaths of retail happiness when she heard.
Chapter Two
WHEN CLAIRE GOT to the cafeteria at lunch, Emily was already waiting for her, intently picking the raisins out of a bagel. As Claire slid into the chair across from her, Emily looked up, then grabbed an enormous, half-finished bottle of Diet Coke and took a swig.
"So? What was Matthew's deal? He looked like he was going to tell you that he ran over your dog."
"I don't have a dog," Claire muttered, distracted by Emily's busy fingers. "Why did you get a raisin bagel? You hate raisins."
"Yeah, well, the hot lunch was meatloaf, and the only other bagels were garlic." She wrinkled her nose.
"Oh, right. And you can't reek of garlic when you see . . ." Crap. She couldn't remember Art Guy's name. Something short. Nick? Jack? Ian?
Claire's mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. Emily raised a freshly polished fingernail and pointed it accusingly at Claire.
"You forgot his name, didn't you?"
Crap, crap, crap. There was no way out of this one. Claire squeezed her eyes shut.
"Sorry. Please don't kill me—I really was listening, but then Matthew sort of made me forget what you and I had been talking about."
Emily went back to her raisin excavation. "It's Ryan. And I'll forgive you this once, because I know you're going to help me analyze everything that happens in art class today." She dropped her mangled bagel and picked up her soda. "I really want him to ask me out. He's Arizona-in-the-summer hot, and besides, my lack of a boyfriend is making me depressed." She sighed. "So? What did your Prince Charming want to talk to you about?"
Claire bit her lip. "You're going to love it."
Emily put down the soda. "What?"
"I'm finally going to a dance! He asked me to go with him to the Autumn Ball. Like, officially. He thought I didn't like dances because he hadn't ever seen me at one before. That's what he was nervous about—can you believe it?" Emily went very, very still.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "You're actually coming to a dance?" She let out a squeal and bounced up and down in her plastic chair, which shook on its scrawny metal legs. "You! At a dance! We are so going shopping. And I am totally going to get Ryan to ask me and then we. Can go. To a dance. Together! Finally."
Claire reached into her bag and yanked out a sandwich. "I know. I'm so excited. And I definitely need you to help me find a dress, just as soon as I can wrestle a credit card away from my mom."
Emily immediately began outlining a preshopping strategy and debating whether they should double or if it would be better for Claire to have a more "romantic" one-on-one before-dance dinner with Matthew.
Claire ate her sandwich, nodding along with Emily's increasingly complicated plans. She didn't care when they went shopping or whether they got a limo—things felt normal between her and Emily, and she just wanted to enjoy it. This was how she wanted the rest of the year to be, and she was going to work damn hard to make sure she didn't do anything to ruin it.