Chapter 2
Two
It’s never too early to start thinking about the Homecoming Dance. Which dress should I wear, pink and frilly or purple and lacey?
“Hurry up, I’m starving!”
I shut my locker and sling my book bag over my shoulders. Suzy gives me a pleading look, her hands clasped together in front of her.
“Please. I think I might die.” Suzy lowers her hands. “Oh, and how was your last week of summer, by the way?”
Suzy’s straight black hair is pulled back in a long tail tied with a blue ribbon, and I love her choice of back-to-school outfit.
She’s wearing super cute dark high-waist jeans with a blue and white striped top tucked in only in front.
Suzy’s whole vibe is like a tuxedo cake—ebony and cream, elegant and sophisticated.
“It was good. Yours?”
Suzy falls into step beside me, and we walk down the school hallway, with its chipped green lockers and scuffed tile floors.
Groups of girls linger by their lockers, talking and smiling, and people fight to get through the crowded hallway.
“It sucked. If I never see a tennis ball again, it will be too soon.”
“C’mon, you love it.”
“Nope. I am done.”
I hide my small smile. “What about the tournament in a month?”
Suzy shakes her head. “Coach has pushed me too hard one too many times.”
“It’s only because you’re so good at it.
” I navigate through the press of students.
Though I’m smiling and putting on a good face, my insides are twisted with worry.
I haven’t seen Noah at all yet. But my worries are probably unfounded.
We’ll see him in the cafeteria, relaxing at the lunch table like it’s his throne.
He’ll give me a nod and his signature half-smile and pull me in for a kiss. My stomach flutters with anticipation.
Really, I’m worrying for nothing. We’re perfect for each other.
People in the hallway smile and wave whenever they see Suzy and me, girls clamoring for our attention and boys hoping that we’ll look their way.
“Callie! How was your summer?”
“It’s so good to see you, Callie and Suze!”
“Callie, can your dad get me a part in the next Marvel movie?”
I wave back as we push our way through the halls. “Hello! Good to see you. Trina, I love your outfit.”
Trina Rogers from my English class beams.
“How about that movie part, Callie?” Tom Sheppard calls from across the hallway. One of his friends elbows him in the stomach, but he only grins lazily, his messy blond hair getting in his eyes and making him look somewhat like a shaggy dog.
“I’ll put in a good word for you, Tom.”
“Score!” He pumps his fist in the air and then turns to follow his friends down the hallway.
My school morning, so far, has gone exactly as planned.
I look perfect; I’ve said hi to everyone and remember almost everyone’s names.
And I’m showing off the designer book bag this chic company sent me for free in exchange for using the bag and dropping their brand name on social media every so often. And speaking of that.
“Take a picture with me. Please?”
Suzy glares. “No.”
“It will be quick.” I hold up the phone, and Suzy rolls her eyes and steps into the shot. I snap a pic with the gorgeous pink and tan bookbag clearly visible. I post the pic to my 50k followers on Instagram and tag the brand.
Suzy and I pick up the pace down the hallway, and a banner catches my eye from where it’s hung from the ceiling. It’s hand-painted with big block letters announcing that “Homecoming is on the way!”
I turn to Suzy. “Do you think Noah’s going to ask me to Homecoming today?”
Suzy keeps her eyes forward, only focused on getting to food. “Why today?”
“I haven’t talked to him all week. Maybe he’s planning a surprise,” I add hopefully.
Suzy looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
“You never know.” The thought cheers me up.
We pass a boy with red hair sticking out of a Seattle Seahawks beanie. He kicks the vending machine repeatedly, grunting. “C’mon!” The crowd flows around him, and his problem is ignored.
“Hang on, Suze.” I walk over to the boy.
“UGH!”
The boy is shorter than me, and the glasses on his face slide down his nose every time he kicks the vending machine. I think his name is Tyler?
“Trying to get chili cheese Fritos?” I ask. The Fritos in question are stuck, tacked on the end of the metal hoop thingy, and they aren’t budging. Suzy stands next to me, arms crossed.
Tyler does a double take when he sees who he’s talking to. “Callie Carter. Umm. Wow.”
“Here, no worries.” I pull out a few ones from my wallet, smooth them out on the edge of the machine, then feed them in and tap the buttons for another chili cheese Fritos bag.
Tyler’s chips pop out in addition to mine.
“Did we have advanced algebra together last year? You answered every one of Mr. Adler’s questions right whenever he called on you, if I remember correctly. ”
“Wow! Umm, yes we did.” He grabs his chips and turns to me with shining eyes. “Thank you!” Tyler hurries away, and I retrieve my bag of Fritos out of the vending machine.
“Want these?” I ask Suzy, who is leaning against the wall, raising an eyebrow.
“You don’t even like those.”
I shrug.
Suzy stuffs the Fritos into her bag and, finally, we enter the cafeteria.
It’s packed with students gathered around round tables.
I can barely hear the school’s news playing on TVs mounted to the walls, the chatter is so loud.
Big glass windows look out to the school’s backyard, where there’s a patio area with even more students devouring their lunches, and beyond that are the bleachers and football field.
My nose is hit with smells of tomatoey marinara and something else—a first day of school perfume of nervous people sweating in their new clothes.
Suzy and I grab trays of spaghetti and meatballs and take seats at a table next to Dana McMechan, a perky girl who moved in next to Suzy last year and immediately became a part of our friend group.
Sitting next to her is Kayla Ortman, a girl with a poof of curly brown hair cut barely longer than her ears.
Her bangs are held out of her face by two sparkly green clips.
I barely know her, but she joined Suzy’s tennis team last year and they became friends.
Dana scoots over on the bench when she sees us.
“Took you two long enough to get here.” She runs her fingers through her hair, which is blonde with red streaks at the moment.
Dana is wearing a neon pink-and-green checkered t-shirt and skinny jeans with artsy ripped knees.
If Dana was a dessert, she’d be a Funfetti cake.
“I like your hair that way, Dana,” I say.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks turn pink enough to match her shirt. “I did it myself.”
“It looks great. Super professional.” I sit down beside her and set my tray on the table, and Suzy takes a seat next to me. I glance around the lunchroom for Noah, but no sign of him yet.
Kayla gives me a smile that looks more like a smirk. “I hear you and Noah are having some trouble.”
I freeze my fork mid spaghetti twirl. “Where did you hear that? It’s not true.”
Dana looks from Kayla to me.
Kayla lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Fine. No need to get all defensive. Mi dispiace.”
“What was that?” Suzy asks. She takes a huge bite of pasta.
Kayla smiles, and her blue eyes get even bigger. “It means ‘I’m sorry’ in Italian, don’t you know? I picked up some of the language spending the summer in Sicily with my parents.”
“You vacationed with your parents all summer?” I ask.
“Yes!” Kayla looks offended. “Didn’t you miss me?”
“Uh, I—”
Troy saves me from having to respond by taking his place at our table right next to Dana, wearing his backwards baseball cap that the teachers are always yelling at him to remove during class.
“What’s up, my ladies?” He slings an arm casually around Dana’s shoulders, and she blushes and looks down with a tiny smile on her face. “How was everyone’s summer, y’all?”
“Great!” Kayla trills. “Let me tell you all about my vacation—"
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn, and there’s Noah.
I swear my heart literally stops, he is that gorgeous.
His hair is perfectly styled, swooping off to one side, and it’s such a rich brown that it almost looks maroon in the bright cafeteria lights.
He’s wearing his green and white football jacket even though the day is slightly too warm for it, and he carries a tray with three slices of pizza in one hand and a can of coke in the other.
Noah’s vibe is distant and aloof, but he’s that way with everyone. He’s like a grasshopper pie—cool and minty like the spearmint gum he’s always chewing. I frequently remind Suzy that he has a sweet interior, like the chocolate crust of the mint ice cream pie, but she doesn’t believe me.
I jump up and move to throw my arms around him, but Noah takes a step back. “Hang on, there. You’re going to make me drop my food.”
I lower my arms, awkward embarrassment thrumming through me. “I missed you. I didn’t hear from you all week.” I try to keep the neediness from my voice, but I’m not sure that I’m successful. People at tables next to us whisper and point.
Noah stares at me for a beat before glancing around the table. He nods at Troy, smiles at Dana and Kayla, then says to Suzy, “’Sup, Soo Yun.”
Suzy glares. She hates being called by her Korean name. “It’s Suzy, tool.”
“How was your vacation?” I hurry to ask. I take a seat, but Noah doesn’t follow. He continues standing next to me, not setting his tray down, not moving.
“Callie, we need to talk.”
I look up at him, and my heart sinks down into my perfect pink boots.
“Umm . . .” I catch Suzy’s expression out of the corner of my eye, and her eyes are angry and aggressive, her pre-tennis match face.
Dana has a worried frown on her face. Kayla is next to Dana attempting to show her pictures of Italy on her phone.
“Okay, let’s talk. Should we go somewhere—”
“We’re done, Cal.”