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“Yeah.” I think Wes’s eyes darken, but in the low lighting it’s hard to say. To put space between us, I hand him a box. “This is foryou.”
“Dinner? You didn’t need to dothat.”
Wes opens the box. “It’s the vegan special,” I supply. “With extra steak. If you’re anything like Beck, you didn’t have time toeat.”
“Thanks. That is some impressive grilled zucchini.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and I feel like I should’ve put an entire empty chair between us, not just a take-outentrée.
Our conversation’s interrupted by the first debatestarting.
They announce the topic: “How important is artseducation?”
“I’m not sure Beck will stay awake long enough to answer this one,” I caution under mybreath.
Wes’s mouth twitches at the corner. “He might surpriseyou.”
Sure enough, my brother’s leaning in. As I watch, I notice that he’s not the most accomplished debater—sometimes he trips over a word or speeds up when he needs to slow down—but he’strying.
Wes sets aside his dinner halfwaythrough.
“You don’t like it?” Iwhisper.
“It’s great. I’ll finish it in asec.”
And he takesnotes.
For a guy who doesn’t give a shit about Baden, he’s pretty into this. I hide mysmile.
The first debate ends, and Baden’s declared thewinner.
Wes shoots out of his seat, doing a fist pump. I stand too, because his energy is contagious, and reach over to grab him in ahug.
We bothfreeze.
He holds out a hand, and I shake it. “Congratulations,Coach.”
“Thanks.”
Warmth buzzes up my arm, and it continues even after he drops my hand and goes to talk to the team. It’s so different from the buzzing I usually feel, the kind that twists in my gut and makes me want to claw at mystomach.
This kind isnice.
After Haley left this weekend, I’d decided Wes and I needed to talk about how he swooped in all white knight turned dark, rescuing me and Scrunchie before blowing me apart. But now, I’m not sure what I needed to say. Maybe we can go back to the way thingswere.
To the kind of friendly workingtogether.
Plus the occasional sneaky look, innocent brush of hands and other body parts, and thinly veiledcompliment.
With a sigh, I sink into my chair and watch the next groupprep.
But the second I spot a familiar form approaching, my good moodevaporates.
As the next two teams take the stage, my dad takes Wes’s seat, setting his briefcase on the floor at hisfeet.
“The new faculty is impressive,” he says, leaning over. “Dr. Robinson came to us due to family circumstances, but he’s quite afind.”
“Ibet.”
My father shifts in his seat, kicking Wes’s half-eaten dinner—from my favorite take-out place—underneath thechair.
