Page 71 of The Devil Wears Tartan

Lydia follows along behind me as we pass milling groups of parents and students, most of whom give me a wave and a smile. We walk right by my mum herself as she stands chatting with a group of parents.

“I’ll meet you out there, girls!” she calls when she spots us. “I just need to retrieve a few kilts.”

Lydia chuckles as we keep moving through the lobby. “I really need to publish a book called Shit People Say at Highland Dance Competitions.”

I laugh too. “That’s not a bad idea. You could rent one of these vendor tables and sell copies to everyone here.”

I glance at the row of tables selling their usual selection of dance supplies, Scottish memorabilia, and sewing patterns for DIY costumes. My steps falter the second my eyes lock onto the back of Kenzie’s head where she’s crouched down to talk to one of her younger students. Her hair is still up in a brutally tight bun, and she’s wearing a green jig dress from our last event of the day, her white apron strings dangling down from where they’re circled around her waist.

“Okay, lover girl.” Lydia taps me on the back and clears her throat. “Let’s get a move on. If you keep staring like that, Kenzie is going to start charging you admission.”

My cheeks get hot. “I was not...”

I trail off instead of finishing my sentence; arguing seems futile when Lydia has plenty of evidence. I focus on getting us to the gym instead.

Lydia leans against the gym’s painted cinderblock wall while I stuff all my outfits into their garment bags and throw the rest of my miscellaneous supplies into a worn canvas duffel bag embroidered with the Murray School’s logo. The gym is almost empty by the time I’m ready to go, and I start to apologize for making Lydia wait so long when I spot Kenzie walking through the doors.

She’s in skinny jeans and a grey v-neck t-shirt now. Her bun has been transformed into an equally tight ponytail, but having her hair twisted up all day has left the long brown locks hanging in loose, bouncy curls.

I really want to know what it would feel like to wrap them around my hand.

Lydia doesn’t fail to notice where my attention has gone.

“Hey, you know what?” she says. “You should invite Kenzie to come skating with us.”

That’s enough to rip my gaze off Kenzie.

“What?”

“Why not? Ty is still down to meet us there, so if Kenzie comes, no one will be the third wheel. Plus, you’re clearly crazy about her. I feel like it’s time I got properly introduced. I need to give my bestie seal of approval.”

I splutter a few unintelligible words; I have so many protests for that, it’s hard to start with just one.

“You mean like a double date?” I finally get out. “Kenzie and I are definitely not at double date level yet. We’re barely at single date level. I don’t even know if we’re on a level. I’m really not sure what we’re even doing, and—”

“And you like her.” Lydia puts her hands on her hips and waits for me to deny it, but all I do is glance behind us to make sure Kenzie’s too far away to overhear. Lydia smirks like that’s answer enough. “I was totally right about you two banging, and now I’m totally right about you two liking each other. You are in hardcore queer like with that girl, so just ask her to come skating with you and your friends. It doesn’t have to be a whole double date thing.”

I crack up laughing before she’s finished talking. “Did you really just say hardcore queer like?”

She pretends to flick her hair over her shoulders even though it’s too short for that. “Yes I did. I know what I’m talking about. Ty and I are in hardcore queer like too. Last night I told them I want to make things official.”

I gasp. “No way! Why didn’t you tell me? What did they say?”

She laughs, trying to play it cool, but I can see the excitement glittering in her eyes. I haven’t seen her this ‘hardcore’ into someone in a while. I guess that really does make two of us.

“You know how hard it is to get a hold of you at competitions. They said yes, of course. I’m a catch.”

I let out a whoop, and I’m about to demand a high-five when I hear someone clear their throat behind me. I whirl around, still grinning about Lydia’s news, and my heart kicks into overdrive when I find Kenzie standing just a couple feet behind me, her own stack of garment bags clutched in her arms.

A curious smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she looks at my jubilant face.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she begins. “I’m, uh, heading out now, so I thought I should just...say goodbye.”

I can feel Lydia’s eyes burning into the back of my head like laser beams.

“Uh, yeah. Right. Thanks. Um...” I let myself stutter off into silence.

Thanks? What the hell am I thanking her for?

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