Chapter Twenty-Five
Lexi
One thing that’s awesome about Edenbury High’s lunch is their pizza. I smell it when I’m only a few feet away from the cafeteria and sigh happily. Usually, I check the school app to see what’s for lunch, but I was too lazy today. It’s such a wonderful surprise!
The rest of the gang are already seated at our table, except for Brock, who’s waiting in line. After grabbing my tray, I head to the back of the line, once again inhaling that delicious smell that makes my mouth water. When I pass Brock, I fist bump him and say, “You, Water Boy, are in for a magnificent treat.”
He gives me a confused look.
I inhale again. “Smell that? That is the yummy pizza that you are about to devour. Seriously, it’s delicious.”
Brock offers me a smile and says, “Cool. Can’t wait,” but there’s something very off with his smile and his words. The smile seems forced and I sense he’s trying not to be…I don’t know, friendly? Close? I sensed it during English class and spent that period and the ones following trying to convince myself that it was all in my head. But from the way he’s behaving now? I don’t think so.
“You should get in line,” he says. “More kids are coming.”
“What? Oh, right. See ya soon.”
He gives me another one of those same smiles before turning away.
Walking to the back of the line, I try not to worry about him. Maybe he’s having an off day, or maybe he had a hard day yesterday. If he wants to talk to me about it, I’m here. If not, that’s fine, too. I won’t pry.
The line takes forever. But soon Brock gets his food and passes by me, holding his tray filled with two slices of pizza and a Dr Pepper.
“Looks really good,” he tells me. For a second, it looks like one of his usual sweet smiles passes over his face, but he quickly spins around and heads to our table.
The guys cheer and urge him to try the pizza ASAP. My cheeks lift in a smile when I watch him pick up one of his slices and take a tentative bite. From all the way here, I can see how his eyes get as wide as two Jupiters and then he attacks his pizza as though he’s been stranded for days on a remote island and this is the first thing he’s eaten since his rescue.
“You guys weren’t kidding!” he says before continuing to devour it.
Ugh, he and the guys are making me so jealous. But after a few minutes, it’s finally my turn and I choose a slice of pizza, a chocolate pudding, and a Dr Pepper—why not? Then I hurry to our table.
“Lexi, finally!” Finn pushes out the chair next to him. “We were worried there wouldn’t be any pizza left.”
There isn’t an empty chair next to Brock, unfortunately. I lower my tray on the table and settle down next to Finn, smiling at Brock. “So, how’s the pizza?”
“So freaking good,” he gushes as he bites into his second slice. The corner of his mouth is dirty, which just proves how much he loves it. Because who the heck cares about that when devouring this yummy pizza?
“I got a Dr Pepper, too,” I tell him.
“Nice.”
“I got a Sprite,” Theo says, picking up his can.
“And I got a 7Up,” Dean says.
“Who cares?” Finn asks. “But since we’re sharing, I got a Coke.”
The rest of the guys announce which drink they chose, and I try not to laugh. I was just informing Brock that I decided to pick his drink, since I haven’t had it in a while. It wasn’t meant to be a comparison contest.
We talk about many different topics, like always, but I notice that Brock isn’t as talkative as he was the past few weeks. True, he was never the most social person here, but he seems quieter than usual. I already asked him if he was okay earlier, and he assured me that he was, but I can’t help but feel that there’s something he’s not telling me. But again, I have no right to pry. I just hope he’ll be okay.
“It was pretty sick,” Finn is telling the others. “Unique powers and a darn good villain. Though Lexi wasn’t very impressed.”
“Are you talking about the new comic?” I ask.
“Yeah. Admit that your taste has been sucking lately,” Finn says.
“Uh, no. My taste hasn’t been sucking. The hero has the most boring personality. Ooh, that reminds me, Brock!” I drop my pizza and rummage in my backpack, producing the second comic I read yesterday. “I know you’re not into comics, but I think you might like this one. The guy loves to read, see?” I open to one of the first pages, where it shows the dude reading on his bed. “He’s supposed to be very bookish. I thought you might like it.”
Nate chuckles. “Lexi still hasn’t given up on her quest to turn Brock into a comic book reader.”
“Oh…” A strange look passes over Brock’s face. Why does it look like he’s in pain? “That was so…that was so thoughtful. Thanks.” His lips tremble a little as he smiles and gives me a quick hug. “Thanks for thinking of me. I’ll try to read it tonight.” He takes it from me and places it in his backpack.
I can’t help but stare at him, my chest hurting. I guess I thought he would have a different reaction. It almost looks like he’d rather I didn’t offer him the comic.
Finn sits up in his seat. “Anyone check out the new FPS that came out this week? The game looks wild.”
The guys discuss the video game, with me adding my input here and there, but Brock is totally silent. He eats the last of his pizza slowly, taking tiny bites, eyes locked on the table and his mind seeming to be anywhere but here. I don’t think he’s enjoying his meal anymore.
“Anyone want to share my pudding?” I ask, my eyes creeping to Brock. He doesn’t lift his gaze from the table.
“Sure!” Cooper says.
After giving him half, I say, “Brock, have you tasted the school’s pudding? It’s pretty good.”
“Hmm?” He lifts his head. “Did you say something?”
“Where’s your brain?” Theo jokes.
“Trapped in his fantasy books,” Finn says with a chuckle.
“I’ll grab some pudding another time,” Brock tells me.
We chat more until the bell rings. We clean up after ourselves and dump our trays, then separate to our classes.
During bio, I hope the teacher will assign us a project so I could try to get a better sense of what’s going on with Brock. Maybe he’ll feel more comfortable opening up if it’s just me without the other guys. But unfortunately, there are no projects or assignments, just a plain boring lesson. The only exchanges Brock and I have are when we catch glimpses at each other’s notes or when my pen accidentally rolls underneath his chair.
The day comes to an end, and everyone is bustling in the hallway, discussing their plans for the weekend. There probably is a party somewhere tonight, but I don’t think the guys are interested in going. I’m definitely not.
“You still headed to the dance studio?” Finn asks me.
“Yeah. Do you mind dropping me off?”
“Of course not.”
Even though Brock told me he plans on going home to take a nap, a part of me wonders—hopes—that he’ll offer to drive me to the studio. But he wishes us all goodbye and walks out of the school building.
I’m about to ask the guys if any of them notice that something is bothering Brock, but from the looks on their faces, they seem totally oblivious. Could it be it’s all in my head? Either way, I don’t want to bring it up because I don’t want to make a big issue if it really is nothing. And if it’s not a nothing, I don’t think Brock would appreciate everyone being all up in his business.
Finn has to make a small detour to drop Gael off at his grandparents’ house, since they’re celebrating his grandmother’s birthday tonight. Then he slows down before the dance studio.
“Later, everyone!” I call as I open the door and get out of the van.
“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” Finn reminds me.
“Yeah, thanks.” I wave as the van drives off.
Studio A and Studio B will have classes soon, and I think Studio C should have one scheduled in another hour. Which means I only have an hour to rehearse. I get dressed and tie on my ballet shoes, then put on the music.
For the most part, I have this dance number down, just a few minor areas I’m struggling with. But as I practice the parts I know backward and forward, I find myself struggling. Which is very odd because I’ve been acing these moves for years.
Shaking my head, I tell myself it’s okay. Everyone has off days. I just need to shake it off and try again.
I manage to get past the first half of the number, but I’m still struggling with the rest. Darn it. What’s going on? It’s like I can’t concentrate. Something is distracting me.
I try not to sigh because I have a feeling I know exactly what’s stuffing my mind. Brock.
His face floats before my eyes, his sad eyes and bothered expression. Maybe I should have tried talking to him instead of waiting for him to approach me? What if he needed someone to reach out to him? But what if I was too pushy?
But what if he thought I didn’t care?
I cover my cheeks and shake my head. Why are things so confusing? How is a person supposed to know what the right thing to do is?
Hopefully, he’s talking to his parents or therapist. Maybe they can help him make sense of whatever’s bothering him.
Feeling relieved by that, I decide to rehearse a different dance sequence. This is the one where I’m struggling the most, but I should be making progress on it because I’ve been also practicing in my room.
As I dance, my eyes keep darting toward the door. As though I’m hoping Brock would appear and surprise me like he did that one time. Tell me that he wants to be here to support me. But the minutes tick by, and there’s no Brock. Why does that disappoint me? He told me he was going home to nap.
My leg twists and I crash down to the floor. “Darn it!”
“Lexi?” Zuri, who was passing by, sprints into the studio. “Are you okay? Did you twist your leg?”
“I’m okay,” I assure her as I move it around, feeling for any pain. “I think I saved myself in time.”
“That’s a relief. Let me help you up.” Once I’m on my feet and Zuri is sure I’m not hurt, she asks, “Are you okay? I noticed you’re struggling with your dance numbers. I don’t understand—I thought you nailed them before.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
She rubs my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just, uh, you know, stressed. With school and stuff.”
She nods. “I hear you. It must be hard juggling school and friends, and playing Clara. Are you sure you can handle it? Because it’s okay if you can’t.”
“I’m sure. I’m not giving up Clara for anything.”
She chuckles. “I know you can handle it all, Lexi. You’re a strong young woman. But if there’s anything you want to talk about, any concerns, you can always talk to me. Or Dani or Jasmine. We love all of our dancers and want each and every one of you to feel happy and safe here. Okay?”
I nod. “Thanks. But you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be more than ready on opening night.”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay. I couldn’t care less about the ballet if you’re not feeling all right.”
“Thanks for looking out for me, but I’m good. Look.” I perform the dance number flawlessly, which has Zuri clapping. “See?” I ace a few more ballet moves, then bow down. “You have nothing to worry about.”
She rubs my back. “I’m glad to hear that. Just remember what I said—we’re here if you need us.”
After we hug, she wishes me good luck and returns to her class.
I focus on my dancing, pushing any thought of Brock out of my head. I can’t allow my worry over him to mess me up. There are so many people counting on me, and I need to do whatever I can to knock my performance out of the park.
Without that distraction, I manage to perform extremely well. I do a small victory dance and cheer for myself. But my eyes once again trek to the door, hoping Brock will magically appear and cheer along with me.
He doesn’t.
I force my gaze away and continue to rehearse.