Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Patrick
I’m walking into Mr. Day’s class when I spot Sara and Joe laughing by her desk. He’s leaning in, eyes locked on hers as he focuses on what she’s saying, then he grins wide and loudly declares, “I love hot pot too.”
Big whoop. Everyone loves hot pot.
I’ll admit, this would have been a shocking scene to witness if I hadn’t seen them walk into school together.
I’d been sitting near the brick wall with Seth and Jimmy, two guys I used to hang out with in middle school, when Joe and Sara strolled up the pathway, completely passing me without a single glance.
I even tried to wave to get her attention, but she only had eyes for Joe.
I couldn’t believe it. She was talking to him! Walking to school with him! When had they become so chummy? And why hadn’t she told me?
So I pulled out my phone and hopped over to her blog, hoping she’d updated it with an explanation, but I was wrong.
Not a single update since last week. Normally, she would have texted me everything, then spilled her guts online.
But she hadn’t even texted me back last night, just left me on Read. It’s so unlike her.
Don’t I matter to her? What gives?
“Did you see them walk to school together?”
Glancing next to me, I spot Rose standing there.
I hadn’t even seen her walk over. Her arms are folded, her mouth in a tight line.
She looks pissed. Huh. What’s weirder is the fact that she’s talking to me.
I’m not exactly someone Rose keeps in her circle.
I’m too loud, too annoying, too immature—at least, that’s what her best friend, Mari, told me last year.
As if I care.
Her brown eyes meet mine. “What’s the deal with that?”
“I don’t know, Rose,” I say dryly. “Maybe they’re in love with each other and we’ll get invited to the wedding.”
“Ugh, gross. You need to control your girlfriend, Patrick.” She flips her shiny hair over her shoulder. I wonder if she practices that move in the mirror. I bet she does. “How can you let her flirt all over the place like that?”
I withhold a snort trying to image Sara flirting—but is that what she’s doing right now?
Pushing the thought from my mind, I say, “Lucky for you, she’s not my girlfriend.” I press my palm against the door frame and lean toward her. “So you know, you and I could always—”
“Ew, Patrick.” She wrinkles her nose as she speed walks away from me. “In your dreams.”
I follow her into the classroom. I’m about to find my seat when Tammy comes up beside me, nervously fiddling with the end of one of her braided pigtails.
“Wait, I thought Sara was your girlfriend?”
“Are you serious? Tammy, I’m single.” I shake my head as I retreat to my desk. “Why can’t anyone understand that? Geez.”
Once I set my backpack down, I approach Sara’s desk. Joe’s already wandered over to Rose’s seat, and I overhear them discussing Newspaper Club.
“Hey.” I rap my knuckles on her desk. “You finished my homework, right?”
“Oh, hey, Patrick!” Her amber eyes shine with excitement. “Guess what happened this morning? You’re going to freak out. Prepare yourself, I’m serious.”
“Good morning, students,” Mr. Day says as he strolls through the door. “Please turn in your essays up here at the front, and then we’ll begin today’s lesson.”
A collective shuffling sounds as everyone pulls out their essays.
I stare expectantly at Sara. “Well?”
She cranes her neck to make sure Joe’s still chatting with Rose, then says, “Okay, so this morning—”
I’m two seconds away from being fed up. “No, Sara—my homework. Did you finish it?”
She gasps, her face paling. My heart stutters, because this reaction tells me everything I need to know.
“Shoot, Patrick,” she whispers. “I forgot about your homework.”
“Sara, agh!”
Whirling away, I slip into my desk and frantically search for a single sheet of paper. How could she do this to me? We agreed she’d do my homework because she lost that stupid bet!
Once I find a pen, I furiously scribble my name at the top. Then I start writing. Okay, I can do this. My favorite vacation. Where would that be? Think, Patrick. The Grand Canyon! Yes! That will have to work.
Sara looms over my shoulder. “Oh! Don’t forget to mention the mountains. And the Colorado River, right? Describe its splendor, Patrick! You can do it.”
I grit my teeth. This is not helping. My hand cramps, but I keep pushing.
“Any last papers?”
I spring to my feet. “Here!”
Sara’s eyes are on me as I race to the front of the room and slap my essay on Mr. Day’s desk. So what if it isn’t three hundred words? At least I’m turning in something.
Mr. Day scrutinizes it. “What’s this?”
“Uh—the homework?”
“I asked for a typed paper, Patrick.”
My heart sinks. Ugh—Sara! I spin around to glare at her, teeth clenched, and find her fiddling with the hem of her cardigan. An apologetic look crosses her face as I move past her to take my seat, and as Mr. Day begins his lecture, she pulls out her phone.
A second later, my pocket vibrates. I peek at the screen.
Sara: Hey
Sara: Uh, sorry?
Yeah, right. Like she means it! That’s a pathetic excuse for an apology. All she cares about is Joe. If I fail English, it’s her fault.
Another vibration. I look again.
Sara: Dude, I forgot, okay??
Sara: Why are you so mad?
Sara: I’m sorrryyyyyyy
Sara: That was a stupid bet anyway
I make a gigantic show of turning my phone off, throwing the stink eye at her while I do. Her mouth falls open, eyes narrowing in anger. Pfft, what’s she mad about? She’s the one who’s at fault here. So I flit my gaze away and ignore her for the rest of class.
When the bell rings for lunch I don’t wait around for her to catch up with me.
Sure, it’s petty, but I end up sitting at a crowded lunch table to avoid her.
There’s no room for her to join, but I don’t care.
I have a right to be mad. Also? The last thing I want to hear is how cool and nice and amazing Joe is.
She should have been preoccupied with doing my homework, not focused on stupid Joe. A bet’s a bet—and she lost.
Sara looks crestfallen when she realizes there’s no room for her at my table, and that’s when we both hear it.
“Sara!”
Joe’s calling her over to his table, where there’s plenty of room for her to join. Rose, Subwayboy, and a few other juniors are sitting around him. I watch Sara’s face light up as she slides into the empty space next to him.
I grip my chopsticks so hard I think they may snap. “That traitor’s gonna have lunch with Subwayboy?”
I don’t realize I’ve said this aloud until, from next to me, Tammy goes, “Who’s Subwayboy?”
“No one,” I mumble.
Even though I’m mad at Sara, I’m not going to make her situation worse by telling Tammy that Subwayboy Oliver is now her calculus tutor. That’s her own drama to share with Tammy if she wants.
Tammy shrugs. “All right.”
I’m surprised Tammy’s even speaking to me right now, considering I almost shared a nonconsensual kiss with her yesterday. Ugh, I really shouldn’t have done that.
“Hey,” I say, and she lifts her eyes to mine. “I’m sorry about trying to kiss you yesterday. That wasn’t cool.”
The corners of her mouth lift into smile. “Thank you for saying that,” she says.
Across from us, Joe’s eyes crinkle as he laughs at something Sara says. I can tell she’s sharing a story by the way she’s waving her hands around, something she does when she’s excited. So now Joe gets all her attention?
“What, are they best friends now or something?” I grumble.
Tammy’s eyes dart from me to Sara as she smooths her napkin in her lap. “I mean, they seem pretty cool?”
Listen, I’m well aware I should be grateful Tammy’s letting me sit with her, but validating Sara and Joe’s friendship? Not. Helping.
“Don’t say that.” I pull my tray closer and shoot her a sidelong look. “Eat your lunch, Tammy. It’s the most important meal of the day.”
Tammy only throws me an inquisitive look. “I thought that was breakfast?”
But I barely hear her.
Sara’s not replacing me.
She’s not.