THIRTY-ONE
I decide not to tell Renner a thing. I’m still not convinced it was anything but a deranged figment of my overactive imagination. And frankly, peace of mind isn’t worth my reputation. Besides, the Senior Sleepover is far too hectic to broach the topic.
Who knew having all four hundred seniors stuffed into the B gym would be complete and utter chaos? Well, I guess I should have known. Maybe this is why it was such a challenge to find chaperones.
Kassie and Ollie are nowhere to be seen, yet again. Renner texted Ollie, but he hasn’t responded. This leaves me, Nori, Renner, and some of the more helpful teachers to set up the photo booth, the movie projector, all the games and snacks, and order the pizzas.
We have to barricade the outside of the gym with stacked chairs and leftover Halloween caution tape from the drama club’s haunted house in October. No one is permitted to leave the gym, unless it’s to use the restroom. Of course, not half an hour into the night, a group of band kids already managed to hot-box the bathroom.
After completing most of our tasks, Nori and I finally get to relax and find a quiet corner to set up our sleeping bags.
“We need to make a space for Kassie,” I say, moving slightly closer to Nori to make room.
Nori gives me a look. “Um, I dunno if that’s necessary.” She points over my shoulder, and that’s when I see her.
Kassie is here, on the far side of the gym. She looks effortlessly cool in a pair of pink mirrored aviators and a distressed denim jacket. Her blonde hair is tied back with a retro headband, and her sleeping bag is tucked under her arm. She’s laughing with Andie and some of the girls from cheer squad, and I see them make room in the middle of their pack for her sleeping bag.
“Isn’t she supposed to hang with us?” Nori asks.
“Yup.” Kassie eagerly plunks down and tosses Andie a candy bar. Something stirs in my gut and it’s not shock, despite our conversation at lunch about hanging out tonight. Kassie said it would be like old times, Funyuns and all.
Everyone gets up when the pizzas arrive. Kassie waltzes right up to Nori and me and grabs a box for the squad. She’s casual, friendly, as though she has no idea she’s ditched our plans.
Nori darts me a side-eye, annoyed on my behalf.
Eventually, Renner and Ollie help us in the pizza assembly line. Nori gives out plates, I’m on napkins, Ollie opens the pizza boxes, and Renner doles out soda and water. Once we finally get into a groove, Kassie comes sauntering back, distracting Ollie with a dramatic hug. Clearly, they’ve made up and then some. I’m guessing she can see that I’m stressed because she says, “Hey, what can I do?”
“Nothing, everything’s already taken care of,” I respond bluntly, handing Reggie Wilson a napkin. Technically, Kassie could be on garbage duty, or running the empty boxes to recycling. But the four of us already have a good system going, and frankly, I don’t need her pity help.
“I’m sorry I got here late,” Kassie says. “But everything is all good now.”
“All good with what? Did you make up with Ollie?” I ask, unable to hide the bitter undercurrent in my tone.
She flinches, uncomfortable that I’ve mentioned their fight. I regret it when Ollie shoots her a betrayed look.
This is uncomfortable. Send help.
She twists her glossed lips. “Why do I feel like you’re shooting me daggers? Are you mad at me or something?”
It’s tempting to yell, Yes, I’m mad at you! This is certainly not how I imagined our girls’ night. I’ve been looking forward to spending time with Kassie, the way we used to, before we leave high school. We’re supposed to do all the Senior Week activities together. But I can’t explain all this to her in front of the entire senior class.
“It’s fine, Kassie,” I snap, turning my attention to the next person in line.
“It’s not fine,” Renner cuts in, his voice terse and sharp. He sets down a new box of pizza and shoots her a look.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Ollie eyes him suspiciously. In his defense, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard Renner use this tone.
Renner huffs. “Char and I got to the gym yesterday morning at 6:00 a.m. to set up for prom. We also got here an hour and a half ago. And you haven’t even lifted a finger. As a member of the student council, it would be nice if you showed up to do your job.”
A hush falls, everyone stunned at Renner’s serious tone.
Kassie blinks, taken aback. “Chill, J. T. I’m here now, offering to help. Char literally just said there’s nothing for me to do. Why are you freaking out?”
I expect Renner to smile and apologize, but he doesn’t back down. “Because you always do this. You always leave all the heavy lifting to Char and then swoop in at the end and take credit for things.”
Her jaw falls open. She hitches her shoulders, arms crossed, well aware that everyone in line is overhearing the argument. “Maybe I would do more if Char didn’t boss everyone around. You said it yourself, J. T., she’s not a team player.”
Nori gasps.
“Someone has to organize all the logistics, Kass. I can’t take care of everything. I have to delegate things,” I shoot back.
But she doesn’t back down. “I signed up to be on student council as a member . We all did. We’re supposed to be a team. And you treat everyone like some minion, ordering us around, expecting us to do everything your way. It’s like no one else is allowed to have an opinion.”
That’s it. I’m done. I slap the napkin bundle on the table and turn to her. “This isn’t just about student council. We were supposed to spend the night like old times, and you’ve spent the entire time with the cheer squad.”
“You’re really that mad that I’m spending the night with the cheer girls? Seriously?”
“It’s not just tonight. You’re not reliable. You ditch me. All. The. Time. For Ollie, ninety-nine percent of the time. We’re going to be in different cities in two months and we haven’t done a single Senior Week activity together—like we were supposed to. You’re going to live with Ollie next year. Why do you need to spend every waking moment together?”
She blinks, shaking her head in disgust. “Char, you just don’t get what it’s like to have a boyfriend.”
“Maybe not. But I know what it’s like to be a good friend. I can’t say the same for you.” I regret my words the moment they come out. In front of the entire student body. Everyone’s eyes are on me, and it’s dead silent. I feel a wave of nausea mounting. I think I’m gonna pass out. I spin on my heels and do the only logical thing. Flee.
It’s dark in the stairwell. Cooler, much cooler than the stuffy gym. I place my hands on my knees and bend over, letting my breath pass slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth. When I finally manage to get my heart rate back in check, the stairwell door creaks open behind me.
I expect to see Kassie or Nori. But no, it’s Renner. My face is inches from his neck.
“You scared me. I thought you were someone else,” I say, my cheeks reddening when I meet his eye. I stiffen and look away to conceal my face—which I’m sure says it all.
One time I had a hard-core dream about making out with Clay. And the next day in Model UN, I could barely look in his direction without wanting to keel over and die. This feels infinitely worse.
“That was ... a lot,” he says. “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m just ... tired. Senior Week is stressful.” I still don’t feel like my body has caught up from the exhaustion of yesterday.
“Want to get some air?” He tilts his head up toward the stairwell.
“It’s off bounds. We’re not supposed to leave the gym,” I remind him.
“We already have, technically. Come on. Live a little,” he says, tugging my pinkie finger.
I let him guide me, grateful for the opportunity to delay facing Kassie and everyone else who witnessed my epic meltdown. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere you’ve definitely never been.”
I’m not sure how that’s possible. After four years on the student council, I’ve seen nearly every nook and cranny of this school. We reach the next floor and he leads me through a darkened hallway near the English department, then through a door I always thought was a janitorial closet. It opens to a narrow set of cement stairs.
“What is this?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
Turns out, the super-secret stairs lead to a super-super-super-secret rooftop. It boasts a sweeping view of the parking lot and part of the football field. I stare out at the field wistfully, reminiscing about all those brisk fall evenings Kassie and I spent watching Ollie’s games from the bleachers. She always made me paint my face in school colors, though her paint would magically stay on all night while mine would smudge in a matter of minutes.
“How did you know about this? I had no idea you could get up here,” I say, rubbing the gooseflesh that’s emerged on my bare arms.
“That’s what happens when you live dangerously,” he teases. “Some of the guys on the football team used to come up here to work out when the weight room was too full. Run drills and stuff. Everyone liked it because the coach didn’t come to check on us much here. I used to hate it, though.” He peers over the edge, gripping the wall for support.
A bubble of laughter rises in my throat. I’m not used to vulnerable Renner. “Still haven’t conquered your fear of heights, huh?”
“Not quite.”
“Remember when you had to be rescued from the zip line on Ollie’s birthday?” I clutch my chest at the memory. Renner climbed the very first tree, froze, and needed the skinny instructor to rappel him down. He was first in line, so everyone saw.
“Yes. Thanks for the reminder.” He nudges me and sits on the gravel.
I plunk down next to him, pulling my knees to my chest.
“So ... that was interesting back there,” he says.
“Everyone heard, didn’t they?”
The corner of his mouth slants upward, ever so slightly. “I mean, not everyone. Only about seventy percent of the seniors.”
I turn to him. “Look, before you say anything, I know what I said to Kassie was wrong. It was mean. I’m going to apologize to her.”
“No. You were right. You may need to work on your delivery ... but what you said was true. She isn’t a good friend to you, Char.” He says it with such conviction. It reminds me of when Adult Renner said exactly the same thing about her.
“She tries to be. She really does,” I pledge, pushing the fine gravel back and forth. “Like, I don’t think she means to fail me so much. It’s not malicious. And maybe my expectations are too high?”
He waves me off. “Remember that time in ninth grade when you planned her birthday party and she came for like an hour and then ditched you to go to Ollie’s?”
I definitely remember that. It was when they first started dating. She and Ollie were already attached at the hip, and I remember selfishly hoping it would only be temporary, until she moved on to another guy she was less obsessed with. But she never did. In fact, their infatuation only grew. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved Ollie. But it’s hard not to feel a twinge of bitterness toward him. He’s the reason our friendship changed.
I wince at the memory. “I went all out for that party. I biked everywhere to find the right streamers. I taped them around my house. Spent the whole night blowing up balloons. I even got her a cake from the bakery downtown she likes.”
“Have you ever just told her how you feel?”
“I have a couple times. But it doesn’t really fix things, so I’ve kind of given up and accepted this is how things are. And she was probably right about me back there—maybe I do kind of take control and order everyone around.”
He seems disappointed in that answer. “For what it’s worth, I don’t agree. You do a lot. You’re always covering for everyone. Including me. All year you’ve saved my ass. You’ve basically run the council single-handedly. I’ve never actually thanked you.”
My breath hitches. Real Renner has never acknowledged the work I’ve done, let alone thanked me with genuine appreciation. “I don’t know what to say. I appreciate it,” I say, tepidly.
“Good.” He gives me a playful nudge.
I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of the setting sun against my face. I feel so at peace, which is a small miracle after what just happened in the gym. “How are you feeling? I know yesterday was rough.”
His body tenses. “It was hard. My mom was in a bad place. Didn’t get out of bed to spend time with my dad and me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs. “I tried to cheer her up, but nothing made a difference.”
I think about when he told me about his mom at Walnut Creek. “It’s not on you to make her happy again, Renner. That’s way too big of a burden. You can’t be the sun to all people without eventually burning out.”
I see him nod in my peripheral vision. “How about you? Have you spoken to your dad since the other day?”
“He wants to have brunch. Before prom.” I decided to call him before Nori picked me up. He seemed happy to hear from me. Strangely, he wasn’t distracted. He asked a couple pointed questions about Senior Week and who my prom date was. I had to confess I was going solo. Part of me suspects Mom briefed him on what was going on with me beforehand. Before I could bring up the lake house, he said he wanted to come to town and take me out for brunch. Just the two of us.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Scared? Nervous? It’s been so much easier not talking to him all these years. Because then I wouldn’t be disappointed. Now it feels so strained. Knowing he’s talking to me because he’s engaged and having a baby. But then the other part of me feels so guilty for not talking to him. Like, I want a relationship with my future sister—or brother,” I correct. “But it’s hard to imagine having one with him. Am I making any sense?”
“Yeah. You are. And you don’t need to feel guilty at all. He left you. He’s the one who missed out. And that’s on him to fix.”
“I guess.”
He stares ahead for a few breaths. “If you want ... I can go with you?”
I squint in confusion. “Go with me? To meet my dad?”
“I mean, not like ... to brunch. That would be awkward. Unless you wanted me to,” he adds, voice trembling in almost a nervous lilt. “But I could drive you and just wait outside?”
“Really? You’d do that?” I’m reminded of how willing Adult Renner was to accompany me to see Alexandra and the girls. How comforting his presence was when I was a bundle of nerves the entire drive there.
“Of course.”
I narrow my gaze in suspicion. “Why are you suddenly being nice to me?”
“I could ask you the same question. You haven’t bit my head off in twenty-four hours.” He pulls his phone out theatrically to confirm the time. As he slips his phone back, his leg brushes against mine.
I want to tell him the real reason. But I don’t. Because I don’t want to ruin whatever this is. “Do you ever wonder what things would have been like if ...” I let my words drift, head heavy with familiarity. Because we’ve had this conversation before.
“All the time,” he says simply, like he knew what I was going to say.
“I guess it’s too late now,” is all I can think to say. Senior Week is almost over. And then all of this will be over. We’ll be off on our separate paths. Life as we know it is going to change forever.
“Is it too late?” he asks simply.
I look over, eyes meeting his. I study his gorgeous eyes, the dense line of his lashes. His breath ghosts my cheek and I close my eyes, reveling in this feeling. My body buzzes with warmth and brightness that could rival the now blood-orange sky.
The moment hangs between us, stretching, threatening to snap as his nose grazes the tip of mine. His breathing is ragged, hollow, mixing with my own. And then he kisses me.