Thursday? This week? My eyes widened. I’d drafted the speech over the weekend, so I could do it, but Thursday was not so far away.
“At least you’ll have a practice run in before you have to give your speech to Mr. Santos next week.” He nudged my arm with his. “I can come over after school.”
Thursday worked out perfectly, because Carl and Rosa were both at the hospital, and the likelihood of either of them stopping by the house was slim. Or I could just ask them if it were okay if Rider came over to help. I found myself nodding.
Class kicked off with us breaking into small groups of fours for practice runs of the speech, and I felt like hurling all over the place. Luckily I was paired up with Hector and Rider. Unluckily, I was also paired with Paige. There wasn’t a lot of relief...
Or a lot of practice.
Neither boy had their speech ready. I had a rough draft that I really did not need to read out loud. Paige had a speech, I guess, but she also had her cell phone in one hand, hidden in her lap, and her hand was on Rider’s leg. Anytime she looked in my direction, she smiled, which was a vast difference from this morning.
As Hector scribbled down something to practice, I watched Rider and Paige, but mostly Rider, because I...I kind of couldn’t help myself.
He’d sucked his lower lip between his teeth as he...sketched. No speech-writing going on there. I leaned over. His brows were lowered in concentration. His wrist flicked in varying degrees of motions, creating short strokes with his pen. Within seconds he had an entire strand of flowers drawn, complete with the beginnings of what appeared to be baby’s breath.
“You should be working on your speech instead of staring,” Rider said, never taking his eyes off his notebook.
Paige’s dark eyes flew to me and then narrowed.
Heat exploded across my cheeks.
“And you should actually be working on, I don’t know, your speech?” Hector grinned as he gestured to his paper, which appeared to have actual words on it. “And please don’t stare at him, Mallory. Because of Paige, his ego is already big enough. He doesn’t need any help.”
“Pendejo,” Rider murmured under his breath.
Hector stretched an arm back and extended his middle finger. “You wish.”
I had no idea what was said.
Paige lifted her hand from Rider’s leg and jabbed her elbow onto the table. Her chin plopped into the palm of her hand. “So, Mallory, are you excited about giving your speech next week?”
I stiffened. Assuming that the class had no idea that I didn’t have to give my speech like they did, I dreaded them figuring it out.
“Who would be excited about that?” Hector asked.
Paige lifted a slender shoulder as she watched me. “So, are you?”
Beside her, Rider lifted his head. He opened his mouth, and I knew he was either going to say something to distract Paige or he was going to answer the question for me. I couldn’t allow that after the conversation we’d had.
I forced my tongue to move. “I won’t...be giving my speech...in class.” Warmth seeped into my cheeks as I continued to force the words out. “I have to...give mine during lunch.”
“What?” She laughed.
Rider stared at me, surprise shining through his gaze.
Tension straightened my shoulders. “I don’t...have to do it...like everyone else.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened as she glanced between the guys. “That doesn’t seem fair.”
My heart dropped.
“Who cares if it is?” Hector responded, shrugging. “Doesn’t affect me.”
Paige leaned back in her chair. “But it’s so not cool. The rest of us have to do it and she doesn’t? Why?”
“The why doesn’t matter,” Rider said, his gaze still on me. “And Hector is right about this not affecting him or any of us.”
I started to respond.
Slowly, Paige turned her head to him. “And if it were, say, Laura or Leon who didn’t have to give their speech, would you think it was okay?”
Rider broke eye contact with me. “Yeah. Because it wouldn’t affect me and I wouldn’t care.”
“But you do care,” she shot back, and I wanted to slink under the desk, because there was no way anyone missed her tone.
“Paige,” sighed Rider as he shook his head. “Let’s not do this.”
She leaned to the side and stretched her neck out. “Let’s not do what, Rider?”
“Oh, man,” Hector muttered under his breath.
Mr. Santos was suddenly there, silencing us as he eyed Rider’s work. I tensed, expecting him to get upset since Rider wasn’t working on his speech.
His absentminded smile didn’t fade as he leaned in, eyes squinting behind wire-rimmed glasses. “The detail and the shading are amazing. It’s like the strand of flowers is going to just come right off the page.”
My jaw might’ve hit the floor.
Pink spread across Rider’s cheeks as he lowered the pen he still held.
“Not surprised, though.” Mr. Santos clamped a hand on Rider’s shoulder. “Your work has always been on point.”