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.”
“But still. He’s … he’s such a tool!” Ally didn’t swear or use objectionable language. “Tool” was a major show of loyalty.
Before I could think up an innocent cheer question to keep Ally chatting, she sucked on her lip and spoke slowly, “Hil’s pissy about it, but she’ll get over the Ryan thing; this single-seniors idea is totally a Keith reaction. You really should say yes to Ryan.”
“Why?”
“Why not? You like him! How many times have you told me you felt slutty for hooking up with him? And, really, all you ever did was make out, which is, like, nothing. I thought this is what you wanted.”
“Yeah, but …” I sighed and scratched a bug bite behind my knee.
“But what? Last year every other week you were promising if Ryan didn’t ask you out, you were done with him. And then every time you kissed, you beat yourself up. What changed?”
“Nothing.” Everything.
“Did something happen in Connecticut?”
“What?” I stared at her blankly for a moment. “Oh. No, nothing.”
“You’re different since you came back. You sure nothing happened? I’d be the last one to judge you if you hooked up with someone. Don’t get upset, but you know he did.” Her face was a portrait of concern and sympathy.
“Different how?” Mine must’ve been painted with panic.
“Let go of your necklace and relax! That’s what I mean; you’re so tense all the time! But about weird things, like you don’t drink … and Ryan. And you didn’t flip about your haircut.”