by Emma Doherty
“We can have it at my house,” Chase instantly offers.
I look at him skeptically. “Your house?”
“Why not? It’s not like my parents will be there.”
That’s true. While Chase’s parents rival mine in terms of their shitty-ness, at least they just leave him to it and hardly bother him. They travel more than anyone I’ve ever known.
“I just…”
He waits for me to figure out what I want to say.
“I just…I don’t think I’ll have time to plan everything.”
“I’ll do it.”
I gape at him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No, seriously, I’ll figure it all out,” he says, like it’s not a big deal. “Let me help you.”
The look on his face tells me he’s deadly serious.
“Are you sure?”
“I meant it, Abbie—I’m not graduating without you. You concentrate on studying and pulling your grades up and leave this to me.”
“I can help too,” says Aaron, and there are general murmurs of agreement from around us.
I actually think I might burst into tears.
“How about two weeks on Saturday?”
I nod, too overwhelmed by his offer to speak.
He grins at me, picks up his phone, and leans over, instructing Brendon to pose for a picture (which he readily does). Then he starts typing away on his phone while the rest of us watch him. I glance over at Sasha, who just shrugs at me. Eventually he puts his phone down and smiles at me. “Done.” I’m confused. “Check your phone.”
I do as he says and see that he’s tagged me in a post on social media: On Saturday 28th I’m throwing a party at my place. Everyone welcome, $15 entry, all money goes to @AbigailBaK3r chosen charity. See you there.
I click through to his next story, and it’s Brendon’s picture. Bring your money because we’re doing an auction, and one of the things you could win is a date with Brendon.
And that’s it. It’s that simple. He’s pressed the button that’s going to start all this.
He looks around at everyone. “Text me what you’re offering for the auction, and I’ll make an announcement during homeroom tomorrow in case anyone else wants to volunteer something. Then I’ll make a graphic.”
I can’t believe he’s doing this, making it so easy for me.
And it is that easy, because everyone in this school probably follows Chase on social media, and they’ll all see it.
“Do you really think people will pay fifteen dollars to get in?”
“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, and he’s probably right. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of booze and all that.”
Aaron nods. “They definitely will, besides we throw parties all the time where there’s no entry charge.”
He has a point, and I’ve heard a lot of high school and college parties have an entry fee to cover the alcohol, etc., so maybe it’s not that unusual.
“How many people usually go to your parties?”
He shrugs. “A couple hundred. Three, maybe four?”
I might pass out. I might be failing math, but even I know that equates to a lot of money.
I pause for a second, thinking it through and thinking about how many people show up to Chase’s parties, how popular they are with the whole student body and how people will go to this event just because he’s running it. “You should charge twenty. People will pay it.”
He smiles at that. “Now you’re talking.” His face turns serious. “Now forget that charity stuff until Sunday when you’re baking.” He holds his hands up. “That’s all yours and Liv’s.” That reminds me that I need to tell Livy we have to postpone the bake sale by a week. The chess club has some fundraiser planned, according to Ms. Sallinson, selling tickets to a comedy show, and I can’t clash with them. So, I’ve arranged to have a bake sale the following week and every Monday morning for the next six weeks. Hopefully Coach and Ms. Sallinson can see that I’m committing to the fundraising part of my deal.
“When’s your first tutoring session with Brett?” Chase asks.
Ah. That.
I’d forgotten all about it, and when I glance down at my phone, I see that the text I sent to him is still unanswered. “He didn’t get back to me.”
Chase rolls his eyes. “Well go ask him now.”
“How am I going to do that when I don’t know what he looks like?”
Sasha decides to take pity on me. “I’ll introduce you,” she says, standing and scanning the cafeteria. She must spot him, because she moves away from the table and indicates that I should follow her.
Chase’s firm gaze tells me I really don’t have many options but to follow her.
She leads me around a couple of tables until we get over to the window and stop by a group of three guys I actually do recognize from around school. I’m pretty sure they’re not in any of my classes this year, but I think they have been previously.
“Hey, Brett.” Sasha smiles widely at a guy with reddish blond hair cut short at the sides and longer and curly on the top, bright blue eyes, and a slight blush as he looks up at her. I guess you could call him cute. “Hey guys,” she says, greeting the rest of his friends.
“Hey, Sasha.”
So this is the famous Brett Sanderson, some kind of genius.
“How are you?” Sasha asks.
“I’m good. You?”
He looks familiar, and not just in that I’ve-seen-him-around-school kind of way. I recognize him more recently than that.
“Great.”
There’s a pause. “This is my friend Abigail.”
Brett turns his gaze to me, and the blush and smile he has for Sasha immediately disappear.
Okay then.
“Hi.”
He just nods at me.
“Um, so, I actually texted you yesterday about tutoring. I must have gotten the number wrong.”
“No, I got your message.”
I blink at him.
What is that supposed to mean? That he read it and just ignored it? Couldn’t be bothered to text me back?”
“Right. Well…I need some help with tutoring, and I heard you do that.”
“Yeah, you said that in your text.”
“Yes. Well, yeah, I need to improve my grades in math and chem.”
“I heard.”
“Excuse me?”
“You need to get your grades up or you won’t graduate, right?”
“What the hell?!”
He shrugs, sitting back in his seat. “That’s the rumor that’s going around since your breakdown at that party.”
My jaw falls open while his friends snigger.
“Brett, don’t be like that,” Sasha admonishes. “Come on, be nice.”
His eyes dart back to her, and for just a second I see them soften before he turns back to me. “I don’t tutor anymore.”
“You know what?” I snap. Who does this guy think he is? “Fine. I’ll get someone else. You’re probably not that smart anyway.”
“Oh, I am that smart.”
“Oh yeah, and how am I supposed to know that?”
“Well I’m not in any of your classes, am I?”
“You little sh—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Sasha steps in front of me to stop me from getting any closer to him. I hadn’t even realized I’d stepped toward him, and Brett and his friends just snicker at me. I glare at him over her shoulder. “Let’s just chill for a second.”
Okay, so what if he’s in all AP classes? That doesn’t mean he’s better than me. Well, maybe it does mean he’s better at me in school, but that’s not everything, right?
Actually, that is the point. Right now, passing these classes should mean everything to me.
I take a deep breath through my nose, trying to control my temper. “I’ll pay you.”
“It’s not always about money, you know.”
Dick. He’s a complete and utter dick.
“Forget this.” I turn
to walk away, but Sasha hurries after me, reaching out an arm to stop me.
“He’s really good at tutoring,” she hisses in my ear. “He pulled my grade up from an F to an A in chem last year and taught me stuff that has helped me manage to keep a B average this year. He did the same for Jen in math.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s not. He’s just defensive.”
“Defensive of what? I haven’t done anything to him.”
“Well—”
“I only just met the guy.”
She shrugs. “Just try again?”
I think of that high school diploma and reluctantly let her lead me back to his table.
He just stares back at me, cocky smile on his face and all.
“I would really appreciate it if you would consider tutoring me,” I manage to bite out.
Sasha rolls her eyes at my tone then glances down at her watch. “Shoot, I’m late. I promised Coach I’d swing by.”
She darts off without another word, leaving me with Brett and the rest of his friends, who are staring at me like I’m a fish at SeaWorld. Only Brett’s not. No, his eyes stay fixed on Sasha as she makes a hasty getaway, and unless I’m very much mistaken, the emotion that’s started to appear on his face is longing.
This time it’s my turn to smirk at him as I cross my arms and watch him thirst after my friend.
Finally he turns back to me. “What? I told you I can’t do it.”
“I’ll pay you twenty bucks an hour.”
I can see he’s tempted by that, but he’s stubborn. “I told you I can’t do it.”
“Okay, fine. Thirty bucks.”
“I have a job,” he tells me. “Some of us have to work.”
Again, my mouth falls open at the sheer audacity of him. How does he know I don’t have a job? I mean he’s right, but still.
“I work right after school most days.”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and think of graduating with my friends. “I can work around your schedule.”
“Not going to happen.”
That’s when I play my trump card. “I can get you a date with Sasha.”
He goes still at this and his friends start chuckling slightly, and I know I was right. This guy has a crush on Sasha, and judging by the blush that’s spreading over his face right now, I’d say it’s a pretty major one.
“You know we’re very good friends,” I continue, stepping forward and watching his face for his reaction. Eventually he turns his gaze so he’s looking me in the eye. “She hasn’t been wanting to date lately, but she listens to me. I bet I could get her to start seeing people differently.” I pause. “And by people, I mean you.”
“Yes, I got that, genius.”
I scowl at him, and I’m pretty sure he’s about to reject me for the fourth time when his friend, a guy with scruffy dark hair and a bright green top, starts to laugh. “She’s got you, bro.”
I flash a smile at the guy, grateful for his support, and when Brett turns back to me, I raise my eyebrows expectantly.
He lets out a long sigh.
“Fine, but we stick to my schedule, we meet four times a week, and you need to make sure you’re studying at home too. I want my money in cash. We’ll start tomorrow right after school, then it’ll be mostly mornings. Don’t be late. And you better say good things about me to Sasha.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I turn to head back to my lunch table before he changes his mind, a smile spreading across my face, because in all honesty, I’m feeling pretty happy with myself.
Looks like today has been pretty productive after all.
8
Dan Summers: So when is this date happening then?
I look up from my desk in homeroom. My teacher, Ms. Willis, has taken attendance, and now we’re all listening to the announcements from the principal. Our student body president is starting to talk about prom, and my stomach twists nervously at the thought of it.
I’ve always looked forward to prom, always imagined it and gotten excited about. I’ve already got my dress—I picked it up on a trip Sarah and I took to Miami a couple of weeks ago—and I know I’ll look good in it.
But I doubt I’m going. I can’t go, not if I’m not graduating; the humiliation would be too much to bear.
“Morning everyone.” My ears prick up as the familiar voice echoes through the speakers. “This is Chase Mitchell.” I glance around, and everyone around me seems to be paying slightly more attention now too, listening more intently than they were a minute ago. That’s just the effect Chase has on people at our school. “I’m having a party next Saturday, twenty dollars entry, and all proceeds go toward Abigail’s chosen charity. There’ll be an auction there for a bunch of stuff that I’ll post about online. Everyone’s welcome.”
There are murmurs of excitement from the class at this, and when Jennifer turns around and grins at me, I can’t help but smile back. It’s not that I doubted him, but the fact that the very next day he’s followed up on his offer to help and is making it so public just shows he meant what he said.
My heart does that familiar flutter when I think about it, but I sit up straighter and try to force those feelings away.
Chase is my friend.
Friend.
He’s being a good one, and I need to get over any feelings I have for him because that’s not going to happen between us from now on.
My phone vibrates again in its place on my lap. I look up at Ms. Willis, but she’s talking to a couple of kids at the front of the room.
Dan Summers: I have to help my mom tonight, but I’m free right after school if you want to grab some food.
I bite my lip, hesitant. I really only did that to get back at Sarah. I don’t have any actual feelings for the guy.
Dan Summers: Then I can take you out for real over the weekend.
Oh, what the hell? No one else is asking.
Me: Sure. We finish at three.
Me: I have my car here.
Dan Summers: Text me your address and I’ll pick you up at four.
I quickly fire off my address, my mind flipping through what I can wear tonight as I try not to get nervous about the thought of my first ‘first date’ in years.
“Abigail?”
I look up at my name being called, and my heart sinks when I see Coach standing there.
What now?
“I need to speak with you for a minute.”
I nod, grabbing my bag, and make my way through the desks to meet her in the doorway. She steps away and walks a couple of yards, stopping by some lockers. I approach her warily; God knows what I’ve done wrong now.
“Chase Mitchell just announced a party with all proceeds going to your charity.”
I nod.
“You told him to do that?”
I shake my head. “He offered to help.”
“Why?”
What am I supposed to say to that? “He said he doesn’t want to graduate without me.”
She pauses for a minute.
“Honestly, that’s all it is. I know I need to focus on my grades and he offered to help with the charity stuff, so I thought that would be okay.”
“Good. It’s good that you have people to help you.”
I breathe a sigh of relief that she’s actually complimenting something I’ve done for a change.
“And I heard through the grapevine that you’re holding a bake sale next Monday?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve asked a couple of people to bake things over the weekend, and I’m going to use the kitchen at a local bakery so I can make more than I would at home.”
“I like this, Abigail. You’re being resourceful. I haven’t seen this side of you since you were a freshman.”
Well, more like Livy and Chase have approached me to help and I’ve accepted it to make my life easier. Most people would probably have more pride than to take their help.
“I mean it. You were
very resourceful as a freshman, and since then you’ve just let that side of you go.” I have? “It’s nice to see it again.”
I nod, feeling a little confused.
I don’t remember being particularly resourceful at fourteen.
“Just don’t forget about the studying side of things. You can’t just rely on the charity work getting you through.”
“I know, Coach.”
She looks like she wants to say something else to me but must decide against it.
“I’ve arranged tutoring with this guy named Brett Sanderson.”
She manages to look slightly impressed by this—just slightly.
“He’s supposed to be really smart.”
She snorts a laugh. “I know who Brett is, Abigail. He’s very good at tutoring, from what I hear. Great idea getting his help.”
It feels good to actually have her approval for once.
“You remember as well that we have the goodbye pep rally coming up in a month or so.”
My face falls. Since most of the sports teams have finished for the year, I’ve barely had to think about cheer. Practice is down to just once a week, and it’s more about just hanging out and having fun, but the goodbye pep rally is a big deal. I know we’ll have to do a bunch of practices and come up with some new routines for it. That on top of everything else feels like too much.
“Don’t worry, I’ll coordinate with Sasha for it.” I nod. We both know it’s Sasha who’s carried the squad for the last couple of years and does all the hard work and prep. I guess I’m just the one who’s been taking the glory. “And then we can tell you what we’ve come up with.”
“Thank you.”
“Okay, go on. Have a good day.”
I smile at her, and for the first time in what feels like a long time, she actually smiles back, and that makes me feel good too.
9
“You look good, Baker.”
I smile at Dan from my place in his passenger seat.
“Thanks.”
He doesn’t look so bad himself with dark hair, blue eyes, and a body that is clearly used to seeing the inside of a gym. I’m not the biggest fan of his faded jeans, but I can overlook it.
“There’s a party over in Sherwin. Wanna check it out?”