Chapter Twenty-Six Keely
Chapter Twenty-Six
Keely
By some miracle, Keely was only five minutes late to Histology. Her professor looked bemused as she took her usual seat in the front row, like she’d been on her deathbed and was checking for signs of life.
She was very alive indeed, with color a near-permanent stain on her cheekbones and across the bridge of her nose.
She’d had to finger-comb her hair on the way here because Max’s hands had mussed it so thoroughly.
And her lips still stung. She pressed them together to see if it dissipated, which sent that same warm honey flowing through her veins.
She’d kissed Max. She had kissed Max Simmons.
It made concentrating during lecture difficult, to be honest, especially when her phone kept vibrating in her pocket.
During her break between Histology and Biochem, she checked it to find he had texted her no less than three times. Asking to study later. Asking if she’d met with Dr. Goff yet this week.
Asking if she was okay.
She still didn’t know the answer to that. She knew the weight of his body on hers now, had learned the shape of his shoulders with her fingernails.
If Max could be normal, then she needed to forget it, too. Nothing good would come of that distraction. Keely didn’t have time for romance, anyway. For kissing. For this. . . feeling, making her limbs heavy and light all at once. She’d always been too busy with school, studying, extracurriculars.
Even still, Keely couldn’t help but press her lips together again one last time as she entered the designated room for the weekly Science Olympiad meeting on her lunch break.
The soreness was mostly gone, and she learned firsthand the meaning of bittersweet.
She hadn’t liked it exactly, but she sort of missed the tingling sensation Max had left behind.
Zoey, as expected, was at the table in the front of the empty classroom, hunched over her laptop with stapled packets spread around her. She looked up, clocked Keely in the doorway, and went back to glaring at her screen.
Jeremy sat on the floor beside Maya, her wheelchair pulled up to a table. Both of them were up to their knees in cellophane wrapping, ribbons, and card stock. A giant gold bow glinted on Jeremy’s head. They, too, ignored her.
“What is all this? Where is everyone?” Keely slid her backpack from her shoulder and rested it on an empty desk. “Don’t we have Olympiad practice?”
Zoey muttered something under her breath that sounded like, “Shouldn’t you know?”
Keely halted in her tracks, her mouth agape. She couldn’t find any words. Between the kiss this morning and Zoey’s attitude now, Keely wondered whether she was dreaming.
“Where have you been?” The icy shards in Zoey’s words cut into Keely’s stomach.
Keely didn’t know what Zoey was really asking, so she covered all her bases. “I told you already, I was with Max this morning,” she said, willing her cheeks not to flush. “And then class. Same as usual,” she added, hoping her tone was nonchalant. Nothing to see here.
Zoey looked away, her jaw ticking. “Not just today, Keely. All semester.”
Keely bit her tongue. She’d been with Max—or at the very least, thinking of him—for most of that time, too.
Maya pushed back from the table, a piece of cellophane stuck to her knee. “Come on, Jer. We can finish after lab.”
Keely almost asked them to stay. She needed something to deflect the thick black ropes of tension stringing between her and Zoey.
“What’s going on?” Keely asked again, once they were alone.
Zoey blew a sigh through her nose and slammed her laptop shut. Irritation tightened her jaw, her mouth, her shoulders. “I don’t know, Keel. You tell me. Anything on your radar for this weekend?”
Keely’s pulse tripped. This weekend was going to be any other weekend, wasn’t it? Friday night she’d hole up in the thesis lab until she had to tape her eyes open, Saturday she’d call to check on Matilda and promptly get hung up on, and Sunday she’d be at the shelter with Max.
But if that were true—if it were business as usual—Zoey wouldn’t be glaring at her like she was running Keely through with scissors in her mind.
Keely searched the mess of the classroom for clues. The cellophane gift baskets. The papers scattered over the table.
Zoey saved her the trouble, annoyance sharpening the lines around her mouth. “The WIS auction is this weekend. In three days, actually.”
“The. . .” Keely’s heart fell through the floor as dates, unchecked boxes, flashed in her mind. Had she really been so wrapped up in this ridiculous situation with Max that she’d forgotten one of her biggest responsibilities? “That’s impossible. I would have—”
She bit her lip and it tingled, but she ignored it. She could think about Max later. Or never again, if this was the price she paid.
“Would have what?” Zoey snorted. “Would have remembered? Obviously, you didn’t. You’re white as a sheet right now.”
Because all the blood had drained from Keely’s face to redirect into her heart. It hurt inside her chest. How had she let this happen?
“I’m so sorry, Zo. Give me tasks.” She pulled the zipper of her backpack so hard it got jammed. The paper caught inside ripped. “Let me get my planner. I’ll make a list and we can—”
“Stop with your precious lists for a second.” Zoey threw her hands up, then crossed her arms over her chest, the WIS logo printed there. Keely’s heart lurched again. “It’s not just about the auction.”
“Then what is it about?” She wanted to collapse into a heap on the floor. Crawl under the table. Get on her knees and beg. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”
This time, when Zoey laughed, it was more of a yelp. An animal, reacting to pain. “I can’t believe you noticed.”
“Of course I did.” Keely frowned. “I’ve tried to talk to you.”
“But all you want to talk about is Max.” Zoey spat his name like a curse.
“This stupid prank war stole your last semester of college, and mine by association. We haven’t talked about grad school or where we’re going to live in the fall.
Is Caltech even still on your radar? The decision deadline is June first, you know.
” Her tone had risen in severity, in volume, and it pressed and pressed in from all angles.
Keely’s heart was going to explode. More deadlines. More ways to disappoint the people she cared about. “I know,” she said feebly. “It’s on my list.”
“Just like the auction was on your list? The auction I’ve had to coordinate completely alone?” Behind Keely, the door swung open, and Zoey snapped, “Not now, Christian.”
They squeaked an apology and the door thudded shut.
Keely listed against the table. “What can I do?”
For a second, Zoey didn’t answer. Just watched Keely’s watering eyes and trembling bottom lip. It didn’t sting anymore.
“You can leave me alone,” Zoey said, flipping her laptop back open in an effective dismissal. “I really need to finish this on my lunch break.”
“I want to make this up to you.” Keely curled her fingers into her palm.
“Unless you can come up with ten more auction prizes by Saturday morning,” Zoey said, “I’m really not interested.”
She didn’t look up again.
As she exited the classroom, Keely’s knees wobbled for an entirely different reason.