“I will!” I say too eagerly, waving at him before he walks away. Yet I don’t care if I looked like an idiot just now. I’m on too much of a high to bother with playing it cool. Though I wish he would’ve asked me to be his actual date for the dance.
Once Ben’s gone, I turn to find Ash is standing there by himself, looking kind of lost. I glance around, curious to know what his mom might look like, but I’m starting to think…
“Is no one here for you?” I ask him.
He shrugs, shoving his hands in his front pockets and looking down at the ground. “My mom couldn’t make it.”
“Oh.” And I already know his dad isn’t here anymore. “How are you getting home?”
“I’ve got a ride.” He flicks his head in the direction of a couple of guys I don’t know personally, but I’m pretty sure they’re seniors. They have that hardened look to them, the one that tells you they most likely do drugs and cause trouble. I don’t know why I think that, but I do, and I wonder if that’s what Ash is going to turn into someday.
Maybe.
But maybe I’m also being totally judgmental.
“Ben was right. You looked good up there tonight, Callahan,” Ash says sincerely.
My heart tightens in my chest. “Thanks,” I say, my voice squeaky. “You did too.”
He glances down at himself. “I clean up okay, I guess.”
“You do,” I agree, happy to make him smile. My heart starts thumping and I realize Ash’s compliment made me happier than Ben’s.
And I don’t know how to feel about that.
Eight
“Here’s your ride.” Of course it’s Mr. Curtin who’s showing Ash and I what car we’re in for Friday’s homecoming parade. The parade is short—it only lasts about thirty minutes and goes for a mile or two. But it’s so much fun with the homecoming court riding in classic cars and the band playing, the cheer team marching—I’m not joining them this year—and the football team walking and shouting along the parade route, getting the crowd pumped up. Teachers and office staff decorate golf carts and throw candy at the spectators, plus each class decorates a float.
Ash and I, along with the rest of the homecoming royalty and remaining senior nominees, get to ride in each of their own cars. Meaning we get our own car. We’re in the backseat. Just the two of us.
Alone.
Together.
Well, the driver is accompanying us, a nice older gentleman who offers us a kind smile as he opens the back door, introducing himself as Lou as we climb into the car.
I’m in my cheer uniform because we have to perform at the rally after the parade, plus I’ve got on my tiara and sash. My hair is a little out there, with braids and white ribbon that the entire cheer team is wearing too, and I have face paint on my cheeks. I’m sure I look silly, nothing like I did on Wednesday night, though Ash isn’t dressed up either. He’s wearing his football jersey and jeans, his dark hair a complete mess, and the royalty sash hangs from him as if it’s going to drop off his body at any second.
“Ladies first,” Ash says as he waves a hand at me to enter the car before him. I’m reluctant to go, since I’m wearing my uniform and the skirt is short, like it’s supposed to be, and I don’t want Ash to stare at my butt.
Can’t prevent it, though, so I get into the car, keeping hold of my skirt the entire time so I don’t flash him.
Ash climbs in after me, Lou shuts the door, and then we play the waiting game, all the cars and floats and everyone else lined up for the parade as they get ready for us to start moving at ten o’clock on the dot.
We remain quiet for so long, it becomes awkward. Lou ignores us, fiddling with the car radio until he finds an oldies station and turns up the volume. I’m assuming it’s sixties music, and it’s kind of awful, not what I like at all, but I remain quiet, glancing out the window and willing the time away.
This moment is supposed to be fun, a high school experience I’ll never forget, and instead I’m wishing it was already over.
What’s wrong with me?
Deciding I’m going to be the one who breaks first, I finally have to say something to Ash so we can make conversation. “Nervous about tonight’s game?”
He shakes his head, keeping his face averted as he continues to stare out his window. “Nah. We’re on a streak right now.”
The JV team is having a better season than the varsity team, and I’ve heard a lot of that is credited to Ash. He has a great arm, according to my father. And an accurate throw. Dad can’t wait to get him on the varsity team next season. It’s weird, knowing how impressed my father is with Ash, when I’m not that impressed with him myself.
Liar.
“Feeling pretty confident you’ll win then?” I ask.
“I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but…” He finally turns to look at me, his mouth stretched into that familiar cocky smile. “Yeah.”
I smile in return, unable to help myself. “Wait until you play on the varsity team next year.”
“I can’t wait. A lot of us are excited to move up so we can work more with your dad,” Ash says.
My smile fades. I wonder if that’s why Ash is nice to me sometimes. Because of my dad. I’ve heard a lot of the boys in my class are actually afraid to talk to me because of him, and that kind of sucks. The only boy I really want talking to me is Ben, and he doesn’t seemed fazed by my father whatsoever.
So that’s kind of nice.
“Listen, I’m not looking to get a pussy shot like the rest of those assholes were last year,” Ash says, earning a hard stare from Lou in the rearview mirror. Ash, as per usual, completely ignores him, while I’m slowly dying of mortification. “I’m not talking you up so I can get closer to your superstar pops.”
No one has ever referred to Drew Callahan as my superstar pops before. “My dad would probably smack you upside the head for calling him that.”
“Your dad has smacked me upside the head for saying something much worse,” Ash says, making me laugh.
“I’m sure he has,” I say.
He sobers up fast. “You know I’m not using you to get closer to your dad, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
How did he know that was on my mind? I don’t like how perceptive he is. “I didn’t think that.”
“Sure you didn’t, Callahan,” he says slowly.
“Seriously.”
“Seriously.” He mimics me, repeating the word with his voice high pitched, and I really hate that.
I reach out, ready to punch him, but he’s quicker than me, grabbing my wrist and stopping me before my fist makes contact with his upper arm. “Let me go,” I tell him through clenched teeth.
He only tightens his grip on my wrist. “None of this has to do with your dad.”
“None of what?” I jerk against his hold, but he still doesn’t let go.
“What’s going on between us.”
“Nothing’s going on between us.” I sound way too sure of myself.
He lets go of me, and I immediately miss his touch, which is so stupid, I want to slap myself. “You go ahead and keep telling yourself that.”
I gape at him, trying to come up with something to say, and at that exact moment, Lou puts the car into gear and it lurches forward, my body toppling over as if I have no control over myself. Again with the quick reflexes, Ash grabs me before I face plant against the back of the bench seat, his hands gripping my upper arms as he carefully settles me onto our seat once more.
“Thanks,” I mumble, annoyed that he just came to my rescue.
“Gotta be careful,” he warns, but I ignore him. Instead, I turn toward the open window, smiling when I spot people I know from school standing on the side of the road. They see me too and start waving, and I wave back, laughing when they shout my name.
It’s like this for the entire parade, both of us preoccupied with waving out our respective windows, our hands braced on the empty spot between us, our fingers brushing against each other’s for the entire two-mile drive. Ash eventually curls his pinky finger around mine and I don’t pull away. I hardly move for fear he’ll shift his hand away from mine completely. It’s the stupidest thing ever, but I don’t want to lose the connection, no matter how minuscule it is.
Seems like he doesn’t want to lose it either.