Chapter 6
6
I consider for a moment quipping back at Sarah, but instead, I decide to let my actions speak louder than words. Effortlessly, I scoop her up into my arms, lifting her high above my head and to the side, like she’s my ballerina in a lift.
The camera flashes. But all too soon, it’s over. I set her down gently.
Her eyes rake over me, assessing, before she goes back to her resting sassy face. “That was perfect. Thank you.”
Turning away, she goes back to her friends. A little deflated, I reconsider my Valentine’s fantasy. Maybe I’ll always be Aaron Olson, the barely-one-hundred-pound wrestler she remembers from high school.
The thought pulls me back to senior year, replaying in my mind as I watch her rejoin her friends, laughing.
Just ask her to homecoming. She isn’t repulsed by you, you two talk all the time in calculus. You’ve always had a crush on her, and now it’s senior year and you’ve done nothing about it. Seeing her pull books from her locker, my eyes land on the exposed skin between her low-rise jeans and the hem of her shirt. She would never say yes.
“Aaron,” she says, and I’m surprised she’s talking to me in the halls. I walk toward her, my heart already racing because I want to ask her to homecoming.
“Hey.” I smile, seeing the paint stains on her shirt.
“Was it just me, or was the last pop quiz, like, total bullshit?”
“I think he wants us to teach ourselves,” I manage while my mind screams to just ask her out.
“Right?! He sucks.”
Will you go to homecoming with me? It’s a simple question. Just ask her. We hold a growing stare before, “See you in fifth period,” comes out of my mouth.