He follows a step behind me. “Seriously, Char? You just stormed off the roof last night. You didn’t give me a chance to explain,” he says, not bothering to lower his voice.
“Why do you have to talk so loud?” I ask, irritated that the entire line is now privy to our business. “And you don’t need to explain. Why don’t you go continue lotioning your girlfriend and leave me—”
Before I have the chance to finish, my gaze is pulled to a familiar face. It’s Clay. He’s heading toward the barbecue line, tattered flip-flops in hand. His hair is blowing in the breeze as he squints into the sun. He’s tall, lean, one of those guys with natural abs, unlike Renner, who works for his chiseled gym bod and flaunts it at any opportunity.
Clay gives me Cole Sprouse vibes, the type who’s into poetry and anything ironic and offbeat.
When he sees me looking his way, he waves and saunters straight toward me.
I will the sand beneath me to turn to quicksand. There’s nothing more awkward than coming face-to-face with someone who blatantly ignored your DM.
“Hey, Canada,” he says with effortless cool. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
I blink into the sunlight, mute, my usual self around him until Renner pokes me to move up in line. He’s eyeing Clay suspiciously.
“You—you have?” I manage.
Clay smiles. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“I messaged you the other day. You didn’t respond.” I immediately regret speaking. Silence is best. Silence is safe.
He knits his forehead in confusion. “What? You did?” He pulls his phone from his pocket.
“On Instagram,” I clarify.
His mouth forms into an O shape. “I deleted Instagram from my phone during exam week and forgot to download it again. I’m so sorry. I would have answered otherwise.”
He looks genuinely apologetic. A sense of relief washes over me, and I wipe the bead of sweat that’s about to drip into my eyeball. This whole time I thought he was purposely ignoring me.
“Oh. No worries. I didn’t, um ... care too much,” I say.
He gives me a funny smile. “Oh, well, okay then.”
“No. No. I did care,” I say quickly. “I wanted you to message me back.”
He breaks into a blinding smile and I start to lose myself, but I snap back at the sight of Renner frowning at me in the periphery.
“It’s your turn to order, Char,” Renner says. All the meat on the grill is nearly scorched. Principal Proulx is still paying far more attention to Nurse Ryerson.
“Oh, right.” Frazzled, I accidentally order two hamburgers instead of two hot dogs. I also manage to squirt the entire contents of the mustard container all over my chest.
When the conversation lulls, Clay turns on his heel to go. I squeeze my eyes shut. This can’t be how this afternoon goes. If Renner is going to fall madly in love with Andie, I need to move on. I think about Kassie’s advice—to be bold. Take charge. So I go for it.
“Hey, Clay?” I call after him. “Are you going to prom tomorrow night?”
He turns back and points to his chest, as if to say,Who? Me?“Wasn’t planning on it. I’m not really much of a dancer,” he admits.
“Ah. You didn’t come to the sleepover either. High school traditions aren’t your thing?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“They would be ... if I had someone to go with,” he says shyly.
A lump lodges in my throat. “Well ... I’m planning to go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup. Do you ... do you want to maybe go with me? If you don’t already have other, better plans.” Good lord. I’m awful at this. I need to go home and lie down.
“Sounds like fun. DM me the details,” he says. “I’ll make sure to download Instagram again.” He flashes the signature Clay Diaz smile before turning away.
