“Then stand in the middle of the room for once,” she said softly. “Just once.”
I did not answer. I just kept staring down at my plate.
The next morning, my bestie, Megan, was waiting for me at the bus stop with her backpack hanging from one shoulder. She was the only person in that school who truly cared about me.
“You look like you didn’t sleep,” she said.
“My mom’s pushing the prom thing.”
“Of course she is. Moms always do.”
I almost laughed.
When we reached school, I went straight to my locker. I turned the lock, opened the door, and pulled out my history textbook. Then I shut it.
And there he was.
Caleb was standing beside my locker, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual easy smile softened into something almost nervous. The football jacket, the dark eyes, the impossible image of him standing right next to me.
