Page 72 of It's in the Contract
Dad puts a hand on Mom’s arm, cutting her off. My feet are falling asleep under Butter’s weight, but I don’t move.
“Cal,” Dad says. “We love you. And we see what you were trying to do, but you need to be more careful. The press is ruthless.”
I look down at my hands in my lap. “I know.” My voice comes out small. This day officially sucks. It’s bleh. The most bleh of all the bleh days.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, but I ignore it. I look up at Mom. “Is there anything I can do to still win the crown?”
Mom’s eyes soften, though her mouth is still in a hard frown. “We’ll think of something. But the first thing you can do is stop hanging out with that boy.”
The words stab my heart.He’s not just any boy . . .I want to say.He’s one of the best people I know.
“Thank you,” I say. I shuffle my feet out from under Butter and hurry up to my room, not daring to ask for a ride back to school. Guess I’m home for the rest of the day.
I flop down on my bed, heavy tears pricking the corners of my eyes. I hurry to blink them away.
What am I going to do?
I open my phone, seeing a text from Suzy asking where I am and a text from Zeke. I open Suzy’s first and respond, telling her I’m home and I’ll fill her in later, then I open the text from Zeke.
My traitorous heart flutters.
Where are you? Is everything okay?
I think for a moment before responding.
I’m okay.I text back.Small emergency at home, but everyone’s fine. I’ll tell you later.
What do I do about Zeke? Maybe if I show him the picture, the article, how destructive gossip can be, he’ll understand. But Idesperately don’t want to hurt him. I don’twanthim to see this article, how they ruthlessly tore him apart, and I don’t want to be that friend, the one who leaves at the first sign of difficulty.
Because even if this friendship is still fake to Zeke, it’s not fake to me anymore. I can’t just stop being friends with him. I won’t let him down like that.
Even more than that, this is about Emma, Tina, and Taylor. It’s about the nerds who have commented on my posts and who have voted for me, who have seen that I’m trying to change things.
I can’t just drop them. I won’t.
What if it means losing the crown? What if it means disappointing Mom and Suzy?
I close my eyes and take a breath. What do I do? My phone buzzes on my chest, and I glance down.
Callie . . .The dots saying that Zeke’s typing start and stop.Maybe I shouldn’t sit with you at lunch anymore.He pauses.I saw the article.
My stomach drops, and those stupid tears are back in my eyes. One slinks down my cheek, and I hurry to wipe it away. I tap back quickly.NO! You are still sitting with us at lunch. You are my—I hesitate for only a moment before texting—friend.
The dots show up, saying that Zeke is texting back, but then they stop.
You know nothing they said about you is true, right?I text.Stupid gossip magazines exaggerate everything. You’re nothing like what they said, you’re—Wonderful, kind, smart, a gentleman, funny . . . All these things that I want to say but don’t. –Just don’t listen to them.Don’t let them hurt you.
I won’t.
It’s just gossip.I text.People will move onto the next thing soon enough.
If only that were true.
Twenty-Seven
Seriously, check out this article. We’re finally seeing the real Callie Carter.
GroupMe chat of the girls’ basketball team.
