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At school, I left my chair at the front office and stood, drawing surprised exclamations from the office staff. I explained I was feeling better and wondered if I could keep the chair there while I was at school from now on.
I walked out of the office, trying not to smile like a crazy person as I joined a crowd of students coming in the front entrance. I walked along with them, relishing the way people brushed past me roughly, not worrying if they might throw me off balance or hurt me. Hardly anyone even looked at me, except kids I recognized from class, who reacted with everything from double takes, to whooping cheers, to high fives.
By the time I got to first period, I was beaming, and I didn’t care how I must’ve looked.
“It’s too bad,” Marne said when I came into class. “Tristan loved that chair. I guess you guys could still use one as a prop, though. If he’s having trouble getting excited, or something.”
I shot her a look. “It’s not like that.”
“It’s not?” She asked. “Everybody is talking about how you two are a thing now. People say they heard it directly from Tristan, so it’s not like when he and Haisley dated and he’d never actually admitted they were together. This is the real deal.”
“I’m still processing it. That’s all.”
“Well, process a little nibble for me, would you? And if any of his friends like a girl who could kick their ass at Sudoku, track a five-point buck six miles without so much as spooking it, give them my number. Oh, and if they’re interested, tell them I also have extensive knowledge of which berries, fruits, and mushrooms in the Maine wilderness are edible.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I can even personally describe some of the more unpleasant gastrointestinal symptoms of eating the wrong ones.”
I promised Marne I’d pass her message along, even though I wasn’t exactly sure how to bring something like that up.
I headed out to the practice field after school to watch Tristan. I brought my camera, more so I didn’t have to admit to myself why I’d actually come.
Logan hobbled up to me on his crutches when he saw me. “I heard the news.”
“Yeah, well, Tristan was the architect behind that little announcement. I’m still not even sure I have things figured out between us.”
Logan grinned. “I was talking about the whole no wheelchair thing. But I guess if your first thought was Tristan, that tells me quite a bit, huh?”
I blushed. “It’s kind of sad to admit, but I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m trying to figure out if I’m letting him just claim me as his because I’ve spent so long daydreaming about what it’d be like.”
Logan bumped his shoulder into me. “That’s cute. You’ve seriously never had a boyfriend?”
“My mom pretty much kept me on quarantine my whole life. So, shockingly, no.”
“Tristan is a bit of a big first step, then. That’s like taking your driver’s ed class in a Ferrari in the middle of rush hour traffic.”
I snorted. “You don’t think you’re giving him too much credit?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. I just mean there are guys out there who won’t make it so complicated.”
“So you’re trying to talk me out of dating him?”
Logan groaned. “No. I’m just trying to give you some perspective, you said this is your first time, so I thought you should at least—”
“I’m messing with you. I get it, and I appreciate it. But what’s the worst that could happen, right? I get my heart broken? I realize I’m an idiot for forgiving him too easily? Am I missing something?”
“Pregnancy?” Logan suggested.
“I’m not. We’re not…”
He arched an eyebrow. “When he took you back to his room the other night, I kind of assumed.”
“Well, we didn’t,” I said. “And don’t tell him I told you that. Actually, don’t tell him we talked about this at all, or he might kill us both.”
“Fair point. Well, since I’m the only member of the cripple club now. I guess I better get my busted ass out of here and let those of us with functioning limbs enjoy it.”
Tristan had been watching our conversation, I noticed. So much so that his coach had to stop a play and ask him to get his head out of the clouds.
When the players went to go grab drinks, Tristan locked eyes with me and got a devious look in his eyes. I frowned, not sure how to read it. He pantomimed filming something, then pointed to me. Curious, I got my camera out of my bag and turned it on, aiming it his way.
The team wasn’t practicing in pads today, so when Tristan reached to peel off his sweaty jersey, there was nothing to block my view of his torso.
