I muttered, “It’s okay,” and Hil shrugged.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I called, then followed her off the bleachers.
Risking one glance at the field, I saw Ryan collide with an opponent as he passed the ball. He was helping up the Hamilton player and didn’t see my exit. How would he feel when I wasn’t here when the game ended? What if he scored again? I was tempted to turn around, but what if he asked again? I didn’t need a crowd to pressure me; I wanted to say yes. I wanted his ability to erase Gyver from my thoughts. I wanted his smiles and kisses.
But I couldn’t. Not because of Hil’s pact, because of him.
Ryan wanted a girl to kiss in front of a crowd. He wanted a blonde to take to parties—wasn’t that what Gyver said? If this was his idea of “proving he was serious” then he didn’t get me at all.
I’d slunk away like a coward, yet when my phone rang later, I answered. “Hi.”
“You left,” he said.
“Sorry. I got cold.”
“You must be my good-luck charm. I didn’t score after you were gone.”
“Me? Good luck?” I choked. My fingers sought my own lucky charm and twirled the chain. I searched my room for signs to indicate what those words could mean and found nothing.
“So, did I change your mind?” The laugh he tacked on sounded nervous.
“No,” I whispered.
“No? Come on—that kiss didn’t feel like a no to me.”
I could feel the blush creeping up my neck. I was twisted into guilty knots. I needed Ryan’s kisses and confidence boosting as much as I needed Gyver’s friendship. And he was the guy Mom wanted for me, the guy my friends wanted for me, even Hil, once she got over this stupid pact. “Ryan, I like you. You know I do.”
“But?”
“But I was flattered today—and also embarrassed. I don’t want to play games. And right now I really don’t want to be the center of attention.”
“I wasn’t playing games and I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I was just showing you I mean it. I’m crazy about you—and I don’t care who knows it. How about after you cheer at tomorrow’s game, we go out, just you and me? No spectacle, I promise. Just us.”
I wanted to believe him. One date. How much damage could that really cause? If I turned him down after that, at least I could say I’d tried.
I flipped my Magic 8 Ball over: Signs point to yes.
“One date,” I agreed.
Chapter 23
Gyver was quiet in the car on the way to school the next morning, so quiet I dozed lightly until we pulled into a parking space. We were both avoiding any conversation about what almost happened in my bedroom on Wednesday and the avoidance seemed to swallow all possible words.
Ryan was waiting for me, leaning against the trunk of his car and smiling. He stepped over and opened my door for me. “Good morning, gorgeous. ’Sup, Russo.”
“Hey.” His eyes flicked down to Ryan’s hand around my waist and back to my face.
“Hi.” I was clutching my necklace and trying to prioritize my last day in school before next week’s chemo: I needed to smooth things over with Gyver, I had to talk to the girls, I needed to collect all my schoolwork for next week—hopefully I’d only be gone a week—and I had to figure out the right lies to cover my absence.
Gyver first. I smiled at him. “Thanks for the ride. Are you around tomorrow? Let’s do breakfast before I check in.”
“Check in?” His eyes narrowed. Ryan responded by pulling me closer. Neither was a good sign, but I didn’t have the energy for their stupid macho competitiveness.
“I told Ryan about my cancer. He knows I’m going back to the hospital.”
There was more than shock on Gyver’s face. Was it confusion, betrayal, or pain?
Ryan was calm. He clapped his free hand on Gyver’s shoulder—perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Thanks for being there this summer—when I couldn’t be. I appreciate it, man.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Gyver snarled.
“I know, but still, thanks.”
Gyver looked at me; I studied my shoes. “Breakfast sounds good. I’ll see you in math class, Mia.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed into the building.
“I think he liked being the only one who knew,” Ryan said.
“He’s just not a morning person.” I watched Gyver’s back disappear through the school doors.
“Apparently. Well, at least we can count on Ally for some OMGs about our date. What did the rest of them say? Do I need to stay away from Hil’s claws?”
“I didn’t tell them.” It hadn’t even occurred to me and now I felt like an idiot. A slightly panicked idiot.
“Really? Aren’t you four psychically connected?”
The joke fell flat because it used to be true. Maybe if I wasn’t busy lying to them, debating whether to lie, and being exhausted by the reason for the lies, maybe then the Calendar Girls would know about the date.
“Did you tell anyone?” I asked.