Page 127 of Something Rad
I roll my lips into my mouth, and I don’t miss the way her eyes flick down to my mouth as I do it.
“Can I say something else?” she asks.
I nod.
She reaches up, fiddling with the zipper of my jacket like she has so many times before. I always loved it when she did that. Which makes me wonder why my first instinct was to pull away when she started doing it now.
“I miss you,” she says, looking up at me from under her eyelashes. “Have you missed me?”
My throat bobs, my lips pulling into a smirk. “Sure I have.”
Haven’t I?
Denise bites her bottom lip, and it’s written all over her face that that was exactly the answer she was expecting.
“C’mon though,” I say. “You’re Denise Davis. You don’t need me to validate you, sweethea–”
I freeze, cutting off my own words. Thewordthat was so natural to roll off my tongue.
Denise’s eyes widen, her smile spreading.
Yeah, she definitely caught that.
And she loved it.
“So…” Denise muses. “Do you like Sara?”
“She’s my girlfriend,” I say, my tongue pressing into my bottom lip. “Of course I like her.”
Denise refuses to pull her gaze away from mine, and it only makes my brain and stomach swim further with uneasiness.
“Hmmm…” she hums, her lips twisting to the side. “Do you like me?”
My mouth slowly falls open. “I–”
“Denise!”
Denise and I both turn to see Coach McKinley, the cheer coach, with her hands in the air. “What are you doing? Get back out there.”
“Yes, Coach!” Denise sings, smoothing out her skirt and snapping to attention. She tightens her bow on her head before gently touching my arm. “See you at the dance, Robbie.”
And then she leaves me standing there, with a half empty Pepsi and an overloaded mind.
twenty-seven
SARA
Another honk sounds as I barrel through the back door of Groovy Movie, my backpack in one hand and my school clothes (that I didn’t get a chance to shove inside of my backpack becausesomeonestarting honking their car horn when I was not ready approximately thirty seconds after 8:30) in the other.
I spot Robbie’s Camaro right outside of the door and take the only step necessary before flinging the passenger door open. “Is the honking entirely necessary?”
“Places to go, people to see, Cooper,” Robbie states, not looking my way as he combs his hair in his rear view mirror.
“I don’t thinkthe people, all of which youjustcame from seeing at the football game, will mind if we arrive two minutes later than planned.”
Robbie lets out a huff, slicking the side of his hair back. “Cooper, we have already discussed the difference between fashionably late and justlate. One of them is the social standard and the other is just plain frowned upon.”
“I still don’t think that justifies obnoxiously honking your horn at me two feet from the door to my job. Are you trying to get me fired?”
