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Suddenly I looked down and Tate’s eyes were on mine. He didn’t blink because he knew what I was seeing, and a soft pink flush spread across his cheeks.
Without a word I put the headphone back in my ear and lowered myself down so that I was facing him. Neither of us closed our eyes this time. It was like we were speaking to each other without saying any words.
Then I felt it. The warm brush of his long fingers against mine, the gentle rub of his knuckles on my skin.
He looked down at our hands and then back up at me through beautiful black lashes.
And then our fingers entwined.
*
I slink into the swivel chair next to Kit as our Computer Tech teacher momentarily leaves the room, and I hand her back her memory stick that I saved the updated Homecoming poster to.
“You emboldened the theme?” she asks.
“Yes.” We’re having a 1950s theme because apparently it’s compulsory for all high schools to do that at least once.
“Thank you. What are you going to wear? I’m going to wear a suit - maybe a leather one,” she says.
There will be no competing with that.
I scrunch up my nose. “I might not actually go to Homecoming as an attendee.” My stomach feels weird just thinking about it. Watching people have fun in their big social circles as I cling to my one friend in her all-leather suit.
The teacher comes back into the room, oblivious to the alteration in the seating plan, so I stay planted in the chair in the hopes of not getting caught.
“Of course you’re attending Homecoming,” she whisper-scolds. “I expect an outfit update by next week.”
After class we head to our lockers to pick up our gym clothes. I twist the key, pulling open the little door, and as I go to grab my sports bag I see a piece of folded paper that I don’t remember putting there. I blink at it for a few moments like it’san extraterrestrial. I assume that, whatever it is, it was slipped under the bottom of the door frame so I grab a pen from my bag and slip it between the fold, lifting it with neurosurgeon-level caution.
It’s a type-written note, printed from one of the computer labs by the looks of the borderline translucent paper, and my chest flutters as I read it.
Please meet me after last bell, or you’ll be BREAKING Tate’s heart :)
Location: parking lot, big tree
I smile at the paper and then slide it gently into my satchel. There’s a little skip in my step as we make our way to the gym.
*
I thought that I would beat him to the meet-up because the gym is right next to the lot, but once I’m out of the doors I see that Tate is already by the tree.
But he’s not alone.
The guy with the black hair is standing next to him and they’re both wearing their track gear. There’s a cold pattering of rain and it’s kind of windy but my blood has gone cold for a whole other reason.
Why is someone else here?
By the time that Tate sees me my smile has vanished and I’m nervously pushing my glasses back up my nose. He’s leaning against the tree and his friend is toying with something small in his hands. When I’m about six feet away Tate pushes himself off the trunk and he smiles down at me.
I don’t smile back. Instead, I look pointedly at his friend, who gives me a smug knowing grin in return.
“This is Madden,” Tate tells me, and he tugs at my shirt sleeve to pull me closer to him.
Madden? I give him a frosty once-over. Sothisis the guy that Kit was talking about.
“Right,” I say, ice pooling in my stomach.
“He knows who you are,” Tate says, the smile still on his lips as he tries to slip my fingers into his.
