Send Me a Sign

I was already blushing from that memory when Hil answered, “Probably because you’re the only girl who won’t sleep with him.”

 

 

Ally swatted her. “Be nice! Because you’re you, Mia. I mean, he talks to you. Maybe that’s it.”

 

“Or maybe—” Lauren began.

 

“Does it really matter why if you’re saying no?” Hil asked. “He’d hurt you, Mia. I know he would.”

 

“Enough! It’s fall. It’s my season!” exclaimed Lauren. “Can’t I just tell you to say yes or no and we can go back to celebrating me?”

 

Hil scoffed, “Power-tripping much, Lauren?”

 

Her face crumbled with the rebuke. “It’s just, it’s my day …”

 

Hil put her arm around Lauren’s waist. “Come on, girly. It’s time for practice. I’ll let you pick out the music and lead stretches.”

 

Lauren perked up. “I’ve got a totally great mix of—”

 

The intercom buzzed. “Mia Moore, please report to the office.”

 

They looked at me in surprise; I shrugged. “No clue. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Gyver was waiting in the hall outside the office when I left ten minutes later. “What was that about?”

 

I sighed, shrugged, too tired to recount Principal Baker’s “How was your first day? We’re all here for you” speech.

 

“Nothing, really.”

 

Gyver touched my hand. “You okay?”

 

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. The first day of school always is.”

 

“Why don’t you go home? I’ll take you.”

 

I wanted to, but I couldn’t give up that easily. “No, it’s all right. Ally’ll drop me off after practice.”

 

“You sure? You look exhausted.” He stepped in front of me, studying my face.

 

“Just overwhelmed. Lots to think about. Practice’ll help clear my head. School stuff, friend stuff, that”—I nodded toward the office—“and … Ryan asked me out.” He’d hear soon enough; it seemed like it should be from me.

 

At the mention of Ryan’s name, he pulled his hand away and stepped back. I felt the weight of his disapproval on my empty palm and in the space between us. How could he be so supportive with cancer and so judgmental about who I kissed? Did I criticize the amount of history class he spent chatting with stupid M.A.?

 

“Am I supposed to go tell The Jock he’s a lucky guy?” he asked in a quiet voice.

 

“No. I don’t know. I haven’t decided anything.”

 

“Then you’d better get to practice and clear your head.”

 

 

 

“Hurry up and change into your practice clothes,” Hil called as I entered the gym.

 

“Everything okay?” Ally asked from atop a pyramid. Her form was perfect and her face didn’t waver from its competition smile.

 

“Fine. It was stupid. I was late for calc. I’ll be right out.” The locker room revealed another challenge: How would I change without the team seeing my port? Maybe layers? I could wear a tank under my school clothing and put practice shirts over the top. All this deception was so tiring.

 

When I reentered the gym, Hil and Lauren were scrolling through an iPod. Ally was demonstrating something for a freshman. I nodded to Coach Lindsey and went over to the mats to stretch. With the other girls in tight tanks and bra tops, I felt self-conscious in a T-shirt. It used to be fitted, back when I had curves for it to fit against. I tugged at the extra fabric as I bent down to tie my sneakers.

 

Ally was calling out a formation when the whistling started. Hil turned with a fake-shocked smile—the soccer players did this every day, whistled and shouted as they ran through the gym and out to their field.

 

Maybe if I’d been tucked within the confines of the squad, Ryan would’ve continued running with his team. But I was alone on the warm-up mats. He ran over, a confident grin played on his lips as he watched the surprise on mine.

 

“Made up your mind yet?” He didn’t look angry anymore, just amused—like my agreement was inevitable.

 

“No,” I answered.

 

“Winters! Stop flirting and move your butt,” his coach barked from across the gym.

 

“Coach Burne, control your players,” called mine from her perch on the bleachers.

 

“Let me know when you do.” Ryan laughed and kissed my cheek before sprinting to catch the rest of his team. I looked between the giggling squad and his retreating back.

 

“Focus, girls,” said Coach Lindsey.

 

“If you’re done with whatever you’re doing, Mia, maybe you could join us?” ranted Hil.

 

I’d passed exhaustion and entered what the hell! As I found my spot in formation, I smiled innocently and offered an insincere apology. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with him—he just won’t leave me alone today!”

 

 

 

In the car Ally was quick to bring up my trip to the office. “I can’t believe Mr. Bonura had you sent to the office—it’s the first day! What if you’d gotten lost on the way to class?”

 

“I’m a senior. I know where classes are.”

 

Tiffany Schmidt's books