Page 19 of It's in the Contract
The voices are slightly muffled through the closet door, so I hope they can’t hear my quiet gasp. Our stuff. What if they recognize my jacket and bookbag?Oh no.
Brielle giggles. “They’re probably making out in the closet right now.”
The handle to the closet turns, and a rock forms in my stomach. Katrina giggles and pounds on the closet. “We know you’re in there,” she says in a sing-song voice. “Should we see who it is?”
For an agonizing second, my heart leaps into my throat. I have no idea what I’ll do if they see me like this, crammed in a closet with a boy who is so not my type.
My breathing speeds up. Gently, Zeke puts his hands on my arms, and goosebumps rise on my skin despite the warm air.
“Just leave them,” Brielle says. “It’s not worth it.”
The turning of the door handle stops. I practically sag into Zeke’s arms with relief.
“What are you going to do about Suzy and Callie?” Katrina asks. “I know you think you’ve got this Homecoming Queen thing in the bag, but I still think they’ve got a chance.”
My breath snags in my throat.
“Don’t even worry about that.” Brielle’s voice is stuffed with the confidence of an experienced baker making a vanilla cake—there’s no challenge at all. “Callie is a has-been. I don’t even think she’s going to keep her name in the running. The breakup was too hard on her.”
Brielle’s words make me stiffen with shame and rage. It’s worse because they’re true. Zeke’s hands give my arms a tiny squeeze.
“And Suzy?” Katrina asks.
Brielle pauses, and I hear the sound of the copy machine running. They must be printing posters or something for Brielle’s campaign. “Don’t worry about her. I’ve got a plan for Suzy Jeong.”
I frown.
The copy machine stops running, and their footsteps retreat. Zeke and I wait until it’s dead quiet again.
I grab the closet handle and shove it open. We’re hit by a wave of fresh air and bright light. Our stuff is still there, spread all over the table. I scan it, looking for our names or anything incriminating. I think we’re good, until I see it. My name is on my assignment. I chew my lower lip, worrying.
Zeke stumbles out behind me. “Well, that was exciting.”
“We need to find a new spot.” I know I sound paranoid, but Zeke hasn’t lived his life in the spotlight like I have.
Zeke starts packing up, no questions asked. “Where to?”
“Well, my house is out.” I frown. “I don’t want my mom looking over our shoulders every five minutes.”
Zeke shuts the chemistry textbook. “Your mom is the overprotective type?”
I let out a choked laugh and start gathering up my papers. “It’s more like I have to do everything exactly perfect, exactly asshethinks it should be, even if it’s not what I want to do.” I’m surprised at myself for how open and honest I’m being, but I glance at Zeke’s face, and there’s no judgment there. “If we work on my homework at my house, Mom would want to check every answer, make me explain every problem to her, and then she’d ask a million questions to make sure—” I close my mouth before I can saymake sure we’re not dating.
Mom was so happy when Noah and I started dating. We looked great together; we made sense. He was charming and genuine and so devastatingly good-looking—everything Mom wanted for me. Everything I thought I wanted.
“We can go to my house,” Zeke says.
I study Zeke’s face, kind and warm. “Really? You don’t mind?”
He smiles slightly. “It probably won’t be quiet, but yeah, I don’t mind.”
“I can handle a little noise.” I smile and put on my jacket and backpack. “Zeke.”
He stops and looks over his shoulder at me. “Yes?”
I smile. “Thank you.”
Seven
