Page 14 of Her Forever SEAL

The lines receded to the vanishing point in a way that felt effortless and real, like you could actually walk down that hallway. Tyler Brannock, who two weeks ago had stared at the equation 3x + 6 = 18 like it had personally wronged him until Kayla had walked him through it three times. But here in art class, Tyler Brannock had a nice sense of depth.

She looked back at her own paper.

To her left, Jordan Petree was shading. Actually shading. Jordan was already past the lines part and adding shadow to the baseboards like it was nothing, like art class was a breeze.

She closed her eyes.

Shut it down, Gault.

What would her dad say?

He’d tell her to suck it up and do her best. He’d tell her to be aware she couldn’t be good at everything and it was her job to accept that. It was her job to praise others for their skills and when they were part of your team, to know you could rely on them. Just like you would in sports.

She took a deep breath and let it out.

Mrs. Alvarez came over to her desk.

“Kayla, I think you might be overthinking this assignment. Is that possible?”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of students who excel at geometry come at this assignment with those principles. Why don’t you relax and just draw what you see?”

The bell rang, she had never been so grateful.

“I’ll try at home,” she promised her teacher. Then she closed her sketchbook, tucked it under her arm, and left the classroom.

The hallway between Art and her locker was always a little chaotic right after fourth period with everyone going different directions, lockers slamming, and the particular noise of six hundred people all trying to be somewhere else. Kayla had learned to move through it efficiently. She kept right, kept her head up, and didn't stop for anything that wasn't worth stopping for.

She almost didn't see Mandy.

Her best friend was standing at her own locker around the corner, and normally that meant she was sorting through all of her books and assignments that were never in order, or she was already talking to someone and would flag Kayla down with the particular wave she used that meant come join in for the scoopage.

She wasn't waving. She was just standing there, door open, looking at the inside of her locker with an expression Kayla couldn't quite read from this distance.

“Hey.” Kayla stopped beside her. “Survive fourth period?”

Mandy blinked and looked over. “Oh. Hey.” She smiled. It was the right shape of a smile. “Yeah, fine.”

“I almost didn’t survive Art.”

“You say that every time.”

“Because every time it’s true.” Kayla leaned against the neighboring locker. “Tyler Brannock is adding depth and atmosphere to his perspective drawing. Tyler Brannock. I helped that kid with algebra for two weeks.”

Mandy made the sound she usually made at this, a short laugh that meant only you would be personally offended by this. Except it came out a half-beat late, and a little flat, and then she turned back to her locker and started moving things around that didn't look like they needed moving.

Kayla watched her for a second.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“You sure? Because your locker looks kind of organized.”

“I'm fine, Kayla.”

She said it the way people said things when they were not fine and didn’t want to talk about it.