Chapter Twenty-Nine
OfficialEndeavourHigh: Happy midterm week, Eagles!
I walk into the classroom almost ten minutes early. I wanted to be the first one, in case anyone had questions or wanted a pep talk or needed a safe place to panic.
I can practically hear their thoughts: Why is she here early? How is she going to grade us? Will we pass?
Hayes, unlike Lowry, hasn’t shown up yet. I take a quick scan of the room and check the time. Everyone else is here. I know who is in what group and what they’re presenting on, and I have two copies of our paper to turn in, even though I only needed to print one.
Three minutes left. I can turn the paper in without him, but I can’t do the presentation on my own. I mean … I could, I guess, but I don’t want to. It’s as much his as it is mine, and I also don’t think I should have to do this by myself.
My mind starts to whir, and my heart starts to race, and I curse myself for needing him. I wasn’t supposed to need anyone anymore. I shouldn’t have—
Hayes. There he is. All that whirring stops, and the frantic racing slows down. It’s tangible, how much I relax. He sits next to me as if he didn’t arrive with only seconds to spare.
“What?” he asks, running his fingers through this hair. “Did you think I was gonna be late? Don’t worry, Novella. I’m here, and I’m ready. I’m gonna do my part perfectly, and I’m gonna make you proud. Everything is gonna be great, and everyone’s gonna do great, because of you.”
I want to roll my eyes, and I want to mess his very-combed hair back up, and I want to never look away from him. But my eyes fall from Hayes’s to our paper. The MLA-formatted headings are perfect, and that makes me feel just the slightest bit better.
The first group goes up to do their presentation. One of the Poe groups. They take a more relaxed approach than I would’ve, cracking jokes and flashing Poe memes in their slide decks. They have the personality to pull it off. I silently cheer them on with as much eye contact as I can muster.
One after another, each group goes up and politely grins their way through their presentations.
Some awkwardly. Some with more excitement than I’d expected.
A few speeding through just to get it over with.
I feel each of them take a deep, soothing breath as they pass me on the way back to their seats.
There are about ten minutes left in the class period, and the vibe of restrained panic has receded for the most part into one of relief.
Our turn.
I take my place at the corner of Lowry’s desk.
Hayes pulls up our pristine presentation on the computer.
I wouldn’t put it past him to show everyone the horrible comic sans version he made just to troll me.
Thinking about that hideous font sends a pulse of wistfulness through me. I’m gonna miss his teasing.
I don’t know what happens to us when we’re not partners anymore.
He nods once. I can almost hear his voice. The floor’s yours, Novella.
Something comes over me. It happens when I present well-prepared. When everyone looks at me and listens to what I have to say, and it feels like they’re here just for me, even though I know they’re only here because they have to be. I feel a preternatural calm.
I fly through it, discussing weird deaths and even weirder marriages and making bold claims that are either going to resonate with Lowry or sink Hayes and I both.
I make eye contact with everyone in turn.
Their gentle smiles are so beyond encouraging.
When my eyes pass over Lowry, I keep moving; I’m not analyzing her expression or reading too much into what her face isn’t saying.
I’m referencing my notecards when I need to, but never too much.
I have my hands on the desk in front of me, not in my pockets.
I’m not playing with my hair or wringing my fingers together.
I’m not interrupting Hayes or speaking too fast or—
Oh. That’s the last slide. Where we ask if anyone has questions, even though we know no one will.
Then Hayes is standing next to me, and everyone is clapping. It’s kind of surprising how loud it is. But it’s validating, because if there is one thing in this life I’m trained to do, it’s give a presentation just like this one.
My eyes find Lowry’s again, and she’s writing furiously in a notebook.
Her pen is flying over the page line by line, faster than I can keep up.
There are still a few claps ringing out in the air.
Lowry stands up, and looks at me. My breath crystallizes in my lungs, and I swear my blood freezes over.
She claps.
The roar starts over again, and we’re standing there while the teacher gives us a fucking standing ovation.
And it means nothing to me. I couldn’t care less.