Chapter 12
It’s Monday, and my surgery is in eleven days.
Grace and I are passing notes in math class, because it’s test review day.
Not that we’re reviewing for a test, nope.
Today we’re supposed to be going over the test we took before Christmas break so we can understand what we did wrong on the problems we missed.
So. When do you think Tuck’s gonna ask you to the Valentine’s Dance?
Prom is big pretty much everywhere, but for some reason, the Valentine’s Dance is the big event at our school; it always has been. Grace’s question fills my stomach with butterflies.
You mean if he asks…
He’s going to ask you, Rosie. He’s in love with you.
This is the moment I should tell her; tell her that I will technically still be in recovery from surgery when the dance is, but I can’t tell her in a note, and I’m not going to tell her yet.
I just want things to be normal, at least until I hear back from Paris.
Doctor Barker is confident that with the surgery and monitoring me, maybe I’ll be able to dance with PBA in September.
I have to be able to go though; I’m willing that into existence, as Grace would say.
I just hope he asks soon.
He will.
I hope so.
Tucker pokes my back with a pencil and when Mrs. Adams looks down, I turn to face him.
His eyes flick to the note folded on the edge of his desk and I grab it, unfolding it as quietly as possible.
There’s a usual hum of chatter in the classroom, and like always, it completely covers the rustle of paper.
Rosie-
Will you…..
Come over after school?
Circle YES or NO.
- Tucker
I know I shouldn’t be disappointed. I want more than a note asking me to the dance, but I still deflate slightly when I read his note. Then I circle yes and discreetly turn back to return the note to him.
I feel like we don’t write notes as much as we used to.
Not just me and Tucker, but in general. We did a lot in elementary school.
Then by middle school, almost everyone had a phone, so texting was easier than writing a note.
But I like the finality of a note. That when you write it, it’s there forever.
I mean, I guess that’s sort of how texts are, too, but it still feels different.
It’s something tangible that I can keep.
It’s why I still keep a journal, to get my thoughts out on paper in a real way. It’s helped since I had cancer the first time, and maybe it will help this time, too. I keep writing my note to Grace.
Disney movie after school?
DUH. But it won’t be right after school. I’m staying after to help Nathan study for his chemistry test.
That’s fine. I’m going to hang out with Tucker, after my mandatory hour at the dance studio.
You still haven’t told your mom that you hate working there, have you?
No. :/ I don’t know how to now. She thinks that because I love dancing, I also love manning the front desk one hour a day.
You should tell her you hate it. That you’d rather be dancing, she’d understand that. I could tell her for you.
HA. Thanks, but no. I think I need to be the one to tell her. I just don’t know how.
Not that it matters right now since Doctor Barker made me promise I’d take it easy because my energy will be low and there are going to be days when I physically won’t be able to dance at all. All I’ll be able to do is man the front desk at the studio. But I don’t tell her that.
You should still tell her.
I nod in response because Mrs. Adams stands back up at the front of the class, reminding us that there may or may not be another pop quiz next class.
The final bell rings and I fold the note and put it in my notebook, grabbing my backpack.
Tucker takes my hand as soon as we’re in the hallway.
A jolt of energy shoots through me as our fingers wrap around each other.
I’m still not used to this; to being his girlfriend or holding his hand in public.
We haven’t had the conversation about being girlfriend and boyfriend, but I don’t think we need to since we both know that’s what this is.
But, I did hear Amber telling Libby last week that it was tacky of me to already be dating Tucker, even though things just ended with Shawn.
I didn’t hear what Libby had to say about that, but I’m not sure she was mad about the breakup.
I’ve seen them making out after school in his car, so I think things are going just fine.
We say goodbye to Grace and Nathan, and walk down the nearly empty hall, past the gym that leads to the parking lot. Right before we get outside, Tucker pauses and kisses me.
We’ve only been together for a week and already this is a habit.
Not many people use this hallway, as no one has gym last period, and since our classroom is right by it, we’re usually the first ones out of the school.
He always stops and kisses me though. They’re quick kisses, ones that leave me wanting more, but it’s really our only time alone.
“So, I have to work at the studio for an hour before we can hang out,” I say after he kisses me one last time before heading out into the bright sun.
“I know. Want me to pick you up after?” He grabs his keys from his pocket and unlocks his truck.
“Yup, that’d be good, considering Nathan has to work today and is taking the car,” I tell him.
He nods. “Great.” Then, once we’re in the car, looking for a song to listen to, he says, “Murphy called me last night.”
“Wait, what?” I feel a little like Grace when I let out a small squeal and he laughs.
“Yeah.”
“Well?” He cannot just leave me hanging like this.
“I’m opening for Peyton Matthews in the fall”—I lean over and hug him—“and I’m meeting with a label this weekend to talk about my first album.”
“What? No way!” I grin. “That’s fantastic, Tuck!”
He grabs my hand as we pull out of the parking lot. “I was hoping you’d come up to the studio with me?”
“I’d love to,” I say, grateful I’ll still have one week before my surgery so I can enjoy this with him.
“Awesome.” He grins and we both smile all the way to the ballet studio.
Tucker is thirteen minutes late to pick me up.
“What have you been up to?” I ask him when he finally pulls up to the dance studio. It was a slow hour, since most of the classes don’t even start until after three, but Mom wants there to be someone at the desk all the time.
“Nothing much,” he answers, but he won’t look at me and I know him well enough to know that he’s keeping a secret from me.
“What’s going on?” I ask him on the way to his house.
“Huh? Nothing,” he says, avoiding my gaze. It’s a good thing I’m the one with a tumor, because it looks like I’m better than he is when it comes to keeping secrets.
“Is that why you won’t look at me?” I tease and he finally looks at me when we pull up to a stoplight.
“I’m looking at you,” he says, and his eyes are as blue as the ocean today.
“Okay, but you weren’t.” I narrow my eyes. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothin’,” he says again. “Just thinking about next week and my album. That’s why I was late, I was working on a new song.”
He could be telling the truth, but I get the feeling there’s more to the story.
“Oh yeah? What’s this one about?” I ask, instead of pushing him for more.
“You.”
I shove his shoulder. “Liar.”
“No, really, it’s about you,” he says, glancing at me.
“Oh, well, can I hear it soon?” I ask him. He’s joked about writing songs about me before, but I don’t know for sure if he ever has or not.
“Maybe.”
“Oh, come on. It’s about me, after all,” I whine.
He just smiles. “Maybe.”
“You could play it for me when we get to your house since we might have to wait for Grace.”
“We’ll see.” He says it in a way that sounds more like no than yes. We pull into the driveway and Grace comes bouncing down the front walk .
“You got lucky,” I tell him, and he just gives me a small smile. “This time.”
“I’ll play it for you, at some point,” he says, and then squeezes my hand three times.
I squeeze his hand back.
Later, when Tucker drops me off at home, the house is quiet.
It means Dad is still at his art show, Mom’s probably still at the studio, and Nathan is still working.
I grab an apple and a granola bar before heading upstairs.
I pause when I reach the landing and notice my bedroom door is shut, which is weird, because I usually leave it open.
I tentatively open the door and let out a small gasp at what I see. There are hundreds of pink, red, and purple hearts covering my bed and the floor.
The biggest heart on my bed says, “Will you go to the Valentine’s Dance with me? - Tucker.” I let out a giddy laugh and clap my hands. I send a photo to Grace.
Grace
FINALLY!!! Now we really need to get your dress ready!
Did you know he was doing this today??
Maybe. Maybe not ;)
How should I answer???
Should I give a cute answer?
Why is our school so weird? Why do we make a bigger deal out of this than prom?
IDK. Because we want to be special? You could answer with a song? He’d probably love that…
UGH. He asked so cute. Now I have to be cute back.
That’s an idea for sure… we’ll see though.
He did ask cute. You do need to be cute back.
Tell me about it.
Did Leo ask you?
Three dots appear then disappear. I wonder what she’s typing.
I’m not going with Leo.
What? But you are still going, right? You said you’d make our dresses.
My mind is spinning. I thought for sure Leo would ask her again and that they’d be together for the rest of the year. I guess I was wrong.
I’m still going, just not with Leo. And I’m making our dresses. They’re nearly done.
She’s been making costumes to wear at Disneyland for years, so when she offered ages ago to make our dresses for the Valentine’s Dance, I said yes.
At the time, I told myself that even though I’d probably be at the dance with Shawn, at least I’d have a pretty dress.
But now I get a pretty dress and I get to go with Tucker.
I know u secretly like all the cute stuff that T does for you.
OK. So maybe I do like the cute things he does. And I’m not dropping the dance subject. Who are you going with??
That’s a secret.
But here, I found this link to article about ways to answer to prom
SECRET?? I’m your best friend!
It’s a secret.
When she doesn’t send anything else, I type out another reply.
Thanks for the link, but WHY ARE THERE A MILLION WAYS TO ANSWER???
ˉ\_(ツ)_/ˉ
NOT HELPFUL.
LUUUV YOOOU.
If you really loved me, you’d tell me who you’re going to the dance with.
She leaves me on read.