“Yeah. Chris. Was I not supposed to?” We were at the top of the steps and Ryan opened the door. Chris was waiting for us—with Hillary and Lauren. “Shit,” he said under his breath.
“Mia, do you have beer-flavored panties or something? Because I never thought I’d see this guy whipped!” Chris jumped on Ryan’s back, and I stepped away to avoid being trampled.
“You mean it’s true?” Hil latched onto my arm and shook me. “I told Chris he must be lying because I’d know.”
Lauren watched the boys, but her words were for me. “You would’ve told us, right?”
“I didn’t plan it, it just kinda happened. And then it was late.”
“It was late? That’s your excuse?” Hil’s face was pinched with hurt. “I can’t believe I had to find out from Chris.”
“So it is true?” Ally’s feet hadn’t stopped sliding on the floor, but her arms were already around me—crashing me into Lauren, who laughed and joined in the hug.
She turned to Hil. “See? We weren’t pressuring her into anything she didn’t want to do.”
Hil rolled her eyes and sighed. “So much for Single Senior Year. I guess if you’re happy …”
“We’ll do a toast tonight!” said Ally.
“Definitely! I can’t remember the last time you came out,” Lauren added. I could. Every detail. What I was wearing and the song that was playing when Gyver showed up and dragged me out.
“Wait. I’m still single.” Wasn’t I?
“See! I told you, Chris. You’re full of bullshit.”
Chris raised his palms in an I’m-innocent gesture. “Ryan said—”
“I said I was taking her out after the game.” Ryan carefully extracted me from the crush of girls. “Give it a rest, Hil. Mia’s a big girl and can make her own decisions. You’d know this if you’d quit bitching long enough to hear her.”
When had people stopped listening when I spoke? It used to be I opened my mouth and had an audience, now they needed to be prompted to pay attention. And, ironically, Ryan used the same argument on Hil that she’d used on Ally and Laur yesterday: that what I wanted should matter more than what she wanted for me.
I finally had the floor, but I had nothing to say, so I repeated myself with an added dash of attitude. “I’m still officially single. Calm down.”
“Not for long,” quipped Chris, draping an arm around Hil’s shoulders. “How ’bout you follow your brilliant friend’s example and go out with me?”
She shrugged him off. “Shut up and go away.”
The first bell rang.
“It’s one date. I haven’t broken the pact.” I bit back the words “stupid,” “idiotic,” and “dictatorial,” all of which threatened to sneak into the sentence.
Hil’s eyes narrowed, like she’d heard them anyway. Or maybe in response to it being five against one. “Yet,” she growled, the heels of her boots clicking on the tile as she stormed down the hallway.
Hil was still angry at lunch. She was like fireworks: beautiful, volatile—and potentially dangerous. “So, you and Ryan,” she mused as I sat down. “Well, since I slept with him freshman year, I guess I can’t say you have bad taste.”
I could play this game. “He could make a good boyfriend. He really wants this.”
“By this, do you mean sex? You still haven’t, right?” asked Lauren. I rolled my eyes and she added, “Just checking! I mean, you didn’t tell us you were going to be absent Wednesday or your Ryan news. Who knows what else you’re holding out on us?”
“Or what other promises you’ll break,” muttered Hil.
“It’s one date, Hil. Drop it.” She did, and the table became quiet, making the looks Hil and Ally were exchanging even more obvious.
“About tonight …” Ally played with her pretzels, lining them in rows on her lunch bag. “Coach Lindsey called a captains’ meeting after school—I think she’s going to suggest some changes.”
“Like?” I asked.
Ally exchanged a do-I-have-to? look with Hil. “Like moving Emily up from the JV squad.”
“Did someone get hurt?” I hadn’t heard anything or seen lockers decorated with “Get Better” balloons.
Hil answered me. “We’ve given Emily your spot in lifts. It’s only the third week of school and you’ve missed four practices. Just rest up until you can tumble again.”
Shame colored my cheeks. I’d gone from our best tumbler to an afterthought: a girl who’d step aside and clap when flyer stunts were performed. A sign I was replaceable. “Oh.”
Ally looked closer to tears than I was. “It’s the best thing for the whole squad. It’s Coach Lindsey’s decision, but we thought it’d be better if you heard it from us.”
“You okay?” asked Lauren.
“Clearly she’s not. Mia, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you’ve looked like crap since you got back from Connecticut.” This was Hil’s invitation to confide, but I couldn’t accept it.