Page 108 of It's in the Contract
Mia steps between us and tries to push us apart. “No! Callie is mine. Not Zeke’s, not Mama’s, not Dada’s. Mine!”
We all laugh, and I hand her a cookie to frost. Suzy’s coming over for D&D later, and we’re going to help her make a character and then join Dan and Will for some virtual dungeon exploring. After that, we’ll turn on a romcom.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and answer the call. “Brian?”
“Callie!” Brian’s voice is upbeat. “Congrats on the dance. That was awesome.”
I smile. “Thank you.” Zeke gives me a questioning eyebrow, and I mouth, “Hang on.”
“So . . . Cassidy and I have a favor to ask,” Brian says.
“Okay.” I wait.
“You know how the Homecoming Queen runners who . . umm . . . didn’t win . . . are going to get cream pie in the face?”
“Yeah.”
“We were wondering if you . . .”
Forty-Six
“On three,” Suzy says. “One, two . . . three!”
I press the delete button on my Instagram account. It’s gone.
Suzy looks at me with a big smile. “You did it.”
I thought I might feel dread or anxiety when cutting my social media ties, but I don’t. I feel . . . light. Like a weight has been lifted off my chest. No more constant posting, updating, worrying about likes and shares. Maybe I’ll start a personal account just for friends and family, but for now, my 50K followers are just going to have to be disappointed.
“C’mon, let’s catch up to everyone else!” Suzy grabs my arm and pulls me across the school field.
The Homecoming fair is everything it should be. Stalls are set up in rows with carnival games like hit the clown with a ball, catch a fish with a magnetic pole, and see how hard you can whack the target with a hammer. Food trucks sell everything from street corn on a stick and corn dogs to Korean-fusion tacos and fried rice bowls. A giant tent has been erected with picnic tables underneath, and a Ferris wheel rotates on the far end of the school back lawn.
Suzy and I join Zeke and Dana, who are staring at the Ferris wheel.
Zeke holds out a hand for me to take, and I interlock my fingers with his.
“Think you might want to try that later?” Zeke asks, pointing up at the Ferris wheel. My stomach does a little swoop, but instead of immediately saying no, I think for a minute.
“Maybe,” I say. “But only if you hold me very, very tightly.”
We walk through the rows of stalls. The fried smells of corn dogs and funnel cakes waft past my nose, and the shouts of kids laughing and screaming fill my ears. Even with what’s about to happen, I’m happy.
“You ready for this?” Zeke asks, bending close so I can hear him over the noise of the crowd. His lips brush my ear.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I’m ready.”
“Well, you definitely need some fuel first.” Zeke guides me toward a food truck selling pulled pork nachos. Zeke buys some for all of us, along with two enormous mounds of fluffy pink and blue cotton candy.
“You have to stop paying for everything, Zekie,” Suzy says.
“Never, Suzy.”
She crosses her arms.
We sit at a picnic table and chow down, but I can’t eat much. Despite what I said to Zeke, I am nervous about what’s coming. I can’t magically make all my concerns for what other people think vanish, despite how hard I’m trying. It’s going to take time.
I look over at my boyfriend, who is laughing at something Suzy said, and I think that maybe it’s okay for me to change slowly, as long as I have him.
