by Tiana Smith
“Don’t you need to tell them who’s who?” I asked.
“Nah, I’m just the photographer. Captioning the photos is their job.” He pulled out a cord, which he used to attach his camera to the laptop, and clicked a few more things.
“Well, that explains why, last year, they labeled me as Elena.” I slumped into a chair beside him and pulled one foot beneath me. He glanced at me sideways but didn’t comment on the fact that I was staying. If he’d asked why, I wouldn’t have had an answer.
“Hey, Elena’s pretty hot. I’d take it as a compliment,” he said. I shifted on my seat, trying not to read too much into his comment. Did he think I wasn’t hot? Why did that thought make me upset? I tried to tell myself that no one would like to hear they weren’t considered attractive. It had nothing to do with Logan himself or how hot he was. To most girls at least. Not me.
The door to the computer lab opened, and Logan and I jumped in our seats.
“Mia?” Ms. Lackey said. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Ummm.” I hesitated. My heart beat loud in my ears, and I could almost picture my school record going up in flames. First detention, now this.
“She’s with me,” Logan said.
I felt my cheeks grow warm.
“I mean, she’s here on my invitation. She was curious about my photography.” He nudged me in the side and waggled his eyebrows. “She was dying to see my work.”
Personally, I thought he was laying it on pretty thick. There was no way Ms. Lackey would buy that. But she surprised me by saying, “Oh, I guess that’s all right then.” She smiled in a way that made it seem like she suspected we were hiding something else, and inside, I wanted to die.
Then she walked over to the desk and started rummaging through the papers there. “I think I left my phone here. Aha!” She held up a bright pink phone in triumph. “Okay, have a good weekend, and don’t forget to shut the computer down when you leave.”
She was gone before I even had a chance to realize I’d been holding my breath. I let it out in a whoosh.
“I totally saved you back there. You owe me.” Logan poked me in the side.
“Do not,” I said.
“Do so.” His smile was so deep, his dimples were showing, and I felt my resolve weaken.
“Fine, fine. Thank you for saving me. There, you happy?”
He held his hand in the air, like he was waiting for something more. “And?”
“And?” I repeated. “I guess I sort of owe you. Maybe. What do you want?”
“Nope, I’m not going to say now. I get to hold it over you and call in a favor whenever I want.”
I scowled. “Way to take advantage of the situation.”
“Agreed?” he said, holding out his hand.
“Agreed.” I sighed, shaking it.
I had a feeling I was going to regret this.
five
Elena straightened her skirt and then pushed her jacket into my arms. Robyn stood by my side, her eyes scanning the soccer field like it was some sort of complicated equation. I felt the same way.
“I’m going to grab some popcorn. Do something useful and watch my jacket, okay?” Elena asked before taking a step down the bleachers toward the concession stand at the edge of the soccer field. “Oh, and, Mia, I have a feeling you’ll want to keep an eye on the announcer before the game starts,” she threw over her shoulder. She turned back around so fast, I couldn’t see her face, but her voice sounded strange to me. Maybe because no one could run down the bleachers without sounding like they had hiccups.
I’d dragged Robyn along for emotional support, since neither of us was exactly sporty. Even though I’d carpooled with Elena, I knew she’d spend most of her time at the game talking with people more popular than me. Hence the need for backup. Robyn had met us here, but she wasn’t happy about it. She kept checking the time on her phone, like that might somehow speed up the game, which hadn’t even started.
The bleachers were filling up now, and the soccer players were probably in the locker room doing whatever it was they did there, but that didn’t stop me from craning my neck to look for Vince.
I’d emailed him yesterday, and nothing had come from it. The announcer wasn’t doing anything interesting, despite Elena’s strange advice, so I focused on finding a seat.
“Over there?” I pointed to a spot apart from the gathering crowd. The failure of my little email experiment yesterday made me want to pull my hair in front of my face and hide from all the students now glancing my way. I didn’t need them mocking me any more for my outburst on the announcements. Even Elena had been acting strange around me.
I wondered if my email to Vince had gone to spam. A whole day had gone by, twenty-four hours in which he could have asked me out, but no. Nothing. All I could do was find a seat and pretend like it didn’t matter all that much that I’d basically been publicly rejected. Because I’d announced my crush to the school, and Vince hadn’t said a word.
Robyn gave me a sideways glance. “Sure, we can sit way back in the nosebleed section. It’s not like I actually wanted to see the game or anything.” She knew I was hiding out. Sometimes I hated how well she could read me.
“Be honest: You couldn’t care less about watching the game,” I said as we walked over to the bench in question. “You’ve checked your phone obsessively since getting here.”
Good thing nothing had come of the email. I had big-time nightmares imagining Robyn’s reaction, which made me regret all of yesterday’s decisions 100 percent. Okay, more like 80 percent. She’d never let me live it down. Maybe there was still time for me to email Vince, explain I’d sent the wrong name, and then delete both emails so Robyn would never know. Part of me wondered if she’d already figured out what I’d done. Sure, I’d archived the email so it was no longer in her inbox, the place she kept her unanswered matchmaking applications. But how often did she check her old emails? And how could I not have considered that before?
I slumped to the bench and set Elena’s jacket at our feet. My notebook lay unopened on my lap with a ballpoint pen attached. I didn’t really need them. Staying up so late last night waiting for Vince to call had given me an opportunity to write not one, but two sports articles—one if they won, and one if they lost. They were basically just a profile of Vince and how amazing he was, so I didn’t need many specifics of tonight’s game. All I needed to do was insert the final score and a few random details and I’d be good to go. I’d even emailed them to myself so that I could submit them from the school in case Vince wanted to hang out after the game. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?
Scanning the crowd, I tried not to notice how many people were looking in my direction.
“Ignore them,” Robyn said, noticing my preoccupation. “Who cares what they think?”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. Seriously, how was Robyn always so sure of herself? If someone told me purple hair was in style, I’d have dyed my own in a heartbeat.
A freshman I didn’t know was staring me down, laughing with her friends. I quickly looked back at the field, feigning a sudden interest in the soccer net. Very convincing, I was sure. I was focusing so hard, I jumped when someone sat down beside me.
“What’s so fascinating about the soccer goal?” Logan asked.
“Ummm…” I scooted an inch to my left, away from Logan, but Robyn’s presence prevented me from going farther.
She didn’t move over.
“The metal is so shiny, don’t you think?” Mentally, I slapped myself. Seriously? Shiny was the best I could come up with?
Good one, my inner thoughts taunted.
Shut up, I thought back.
Logan raised his eyebrows but otherwise didn’t do anything except to nod at Robyn. A camera hung from his neck—the big professional kind. He pulled it up to his eye and took a few shots of the field. Maybe he was testing the lighting. I heard photographers did things like that. The shutter sounded loud in the silence between us. Then he angled
his body and took a few shots of my face before I could bat the camera away.
“Hey!” I said. “No fair. I didn’t even do my hair today.” Not true. Knowing I’d be seeing Vince, I had taken about an hour to make sure I looked perfect. “Besides, that’s my bad side.”
Logan chuckled. “You don’t have a bad side.”
Robyn elbowed me and was smiling so wide, she was giving off distinct Cheshire cat vibes.
My eyes dropped to my notebook as I tried to control the blush creeping up my neck. I shouldn’t have felt flattered by his comment. Especially because he probably didn’t even mean it. Logan began taking pictures of the students milling around, and I was spared from answering. People began filling the stands, and I fiddled with my notebook to avoid their stares. Robyn scrolled through Instagram, obviously pretending to check out of our conversation so Logan and I could talk more. Joke was on her, because I didn’t think Logan and I had anything to talk about.
“So why’d you volunteer to take over Spencer’s section? Do you even like sports?” Logan adjusted some of the settings on his camera.
“Sure,” I said, eyeing our soccer team, which was running onto the field. Of course I liked what I saw there. I mean, I would probably like it a lot more if it were warmer outside. Or if I had a firmer grasp of what the rules were.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t really like soccer, but so what?
“The game is about to start, so shush,” I said.
“That’s pretty much the exact opposite of what you’re supposed to do at a sports game,” Logan said, standing up and letting out a whoop. He pumped his fist in the air, and I grinned at how uninhibited he was. He was a lot like Robyn, in that neither of them seemed to care what anyone around them thought. But just because I liked that quality in my best friend didn’t mean Logan and I would be good together. Not even close. Besides, Vince had the same kind of confidence. Plus an amazing body, which was like ten extra points in his favor.
The air pulsed with energy as the students around us cheered. I’d never been to a game before, but it was almost impossible not to feel optimistic here. Once Vince fell for me, everything would fall into place. That is, if the email hadn’t gone to spam. My smile dropped again.
“Where’s Vince?” I asked.
“What? Don’t you recognize your soul mate?” Logan’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he sat back down. Robyn shielded her eyes with a hand, searching through the players.
“Hey, they’re all wearing the same uniform, so excuse me if they look alike,” I said.
“You’re the one who wanted to sit in the nosebleed section,” Robyn said. “You can barely see anything from up here.”
“Vince is number twelve, the one over there by the announcer.” Logan pointed to the opposite side of the field, away from the majority of the players on the bench.
“What’s he doing over there?” I asked. “Isn’t the game supposed to start soon?”
“We still have a few minutes until the coin toss,” Logan said, but his eyebrows were drawn together in confusion. I wasn’t the only one wondering what Vince was up to.
Then Vince pulled a portable mic seemingly out of nowhere, and his voice echoed throughout the stadium.
“This one goes out to a very special lady,” he said, and I felt like all the breath had been squeezed out of my lungs. Nervousness that he meant me. Nervousness that he didn’t.
“Mia.” He held a hand over his eyes to scan the bleachers, then he pointed directly at me. I remembered what Elena had said about watching the announcer, but my neighbor was still nowhere in sight for me to ask how she knew. The concession line snaked around the corner of the field, though, so chances were she’d been caught unawares by the force of teenage appetites. Either that or she’d found someone better to sit with, which was also a possibility.
Then Vince began to speak into the microphone again.
“Mia Taylor, she’s the one. One who makes my heartbeat drum.”
Oh. My. Word. It was poetry. Poetry put to a cheer. Vince even did a few kicks and halfhearted dance moves for good measure. A smile stretched across my face. It was kind of a tradition at our school to ask people to dances in big, over-the-top ways. Classes were often interrupted, and the more attention it got you on social media, the better. This meant Vince had gotten the email, and all my problems were about to be solved.
Maybe now people wouldn’t stare at me with pity. Logan’s face was a picture of disgust and incredulity, so I tried to ignore him. He was too rigid for a soccer game, sitting there like a statue. Robyn was eyeing me skeptically, and I wondered again how frequently she checked her archived emails. Did she know what I’d done? No. Because Robyn never hid her feelings, and if she knew, she’d definitely have feelings to express.
What had I done? Had I gotten Vince only to alienate my best friend? Why had I thought that was a good idea? There was no hiding it now. A panicked feeling bloomed from my chest, spreading from my core like a stain, and I stopped smiling.
“She’s so hot, just need to say, that she takes my breath away. Homecoming’s two weeks away, please be my date, what do you say?”
Everyone in the bleachers watched me as Vince did jazz hands. I could have done jazz hands right alongside him. Vince had asked me to homecoming! Sure, he was only doing it because he thought Robyn had matched us together, when in fact Robyn had no idea. And it made sense why he’d gone all out. He didn’t have a reason to doubt her methods, not when two of his friends had been happily matched by her and were now disgustingly in love. Robyn wasn’t convinced, though. She was watching me with furrowed brows.
I put a hand up to my cheek, and it felt like my entire face could roast a marshmallow. Vince was still standing there waiting for my answer, so when his eyes connected with mine, I hastily nodded my acceptance. He whooped into the microphone, and the audience burst into applause.
Turning to the crowd, he gave a lopsided smile that somehow made him look adorable and provocative at the same time. He waved to everyone like they were his personal fans come to watch him perform.
It took me a moment to realize that beside me, Logan and Robyn were the only ones not clapping.
“Well, that was … interesting,” Logan said.
The rest of the crowd turned their attention away from me, and I felt myself breathe a bit easier.
Robyn made a sound in the back of her throat. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but maybe he asked you simply because he’s trying to help you save face. You know, from the announcement thing?”
She turned to look at me, and I almost stopped breathing. She still hadn’t figured it out.
“You mean like a pity date?” Logan asked. He shrugged, and I could feel his arm move next to mine. “No, Mia doesn’t need those.” I was already having a hard time getting my heartbeat under control, and Logan wasn’t helping.
“Well, it’s definitely the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” I said, letting out a shaky laugh.
“Romantic?” Logan asked. “You looked like you were going to pass out the entire time.”
I played with the hem of my sleeve to avoid looking at him. I couldn’t exactly mention why I’d looked so worried—because I thought Robyn would figure out what I’d done. “Yes, well, isn’t that kind of what romance is like?” I asked. “I mean, it’s a rush, and it’s scary, but somehow it’s all worth it?” Or so I’d been told.
Both Robyn and Logan laughed.
“It’s not supposed to be scary. It’s supposed to be … whatever the opposite of scary is,” Robyn said. “Romance is supposed to be like finding someone who knows things about you without you ever having to tell them. It should be like the one safe thing in this scary world. That’s when you know it’s right.”
“Right,” Logan said.
I looked between them. “You act like it’s so easy.” I expected this type of conversation from Robyn. She often waxed poetic about “the spark” and perfect couples. But Logan? The guy who cou
ldn’t even be bothered to brush his hair? What gave him the confidence to talk about love like he knew what to expect? I turned to face him.
“As if you even have a romantic bone in your body,” I said.
“I can be romantic.” He didn’t pull back or look away.
His expression let me know he was totally invested in our conversation. It wasn’t the distracted look of a guy who found something on his phone more interesting or of someone who was thinking of something else entirely, like I’d seen too many times with my friends’ boyfriends. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention from a guy, and I kind of hated myself for enjoying it. I was all too aware of the way he was looking at me and what it was doing to my insides. And how I wasn’t supposed to feel that way about Logan.
“Mm-hmm,” I said. “I’d like to see that.”
What had possessed me to say that?
Robyn half choked on her gum.
“All right, you’ve forced my hand,” Logan said. “Remember that favor you owe me? I’m calling it in now.”
I tilted my head and thumped Robyn on the back a few times until she swatted my arm away. “You want me to … what? Say you’ve won the argument?” I asked.
Logan shook his head. “Nope. I want you to come with me.”
“What? Now? The game just started.”
He tapped my notebook.
“And judging from the way you haven’t even opened your binder, you already have your article written. Am I right?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“Robyn, you can text Mia the final score, right?” he asked.
“Hmmm-mmm,” Robyn said, her attention once more focused on her phone. She was looking through her email. My pulse skyrocketed. Robyn was checking her email. The same email I’d tampered with. That email. And looking at the sheer volume of emails there, she wasn’t scrolling through her inbox but her archived messages.
I had to get out of here.
“Great,” Logan said. “My laptop is in my car, and you can submit your article that way. We can tether the data from my phone or something. I’ll take a couple of photos now, and then a few more from the field when we’ve gotten down there.”