“Dude, it’s been over a week. You’re just now asking me about this?” It bugs me more than it should. Have my so-called friends even thought about asking me what’s been going on in my life?
As if summoned by her name, Rue appears at the far end of the hallway with Meredith and Mabel. Her eyes meet mine for asplit second before she quickly looks away, chewing the corner of her lip.
Tucker glances between us, eyebrows hitting his hairline. “Oh, man.”
I don’t say anything. I just walk straight up to Rue, ignoring the slight catch in her step when she realizes I’m headed right for her. The hallway seems to quiet—at least in my head—as I gently pull her into a hug. She smells like coconut shampoo and vanilla lotion.
“See you later,” I say, stepping back.
She nods, cheeks still flushed, and turns with her friends, who are both doing a poor job of trying not to giggle.
"Bro," Tucker whispers, frozen beside me. "I feel like I just witnessed Fallbrook history. We’re totally gonna read about that tonight.”
I roll my eyes but pull out my phone as we head down the stairs. Sure enough, there’s a text from Rue.
Rue
thanks for playing along
Me
playing along? I was just being a good boyfriend ;)
There’s a long pause, and for a second, I think she’s going to stop responding to me. Then:
Rue
are you planning to start sitting with me at lunch now, too?
Me
I mean, it’s only expected. We wouldn’t want to make people suspicious.
Rue
*eye-roll emoji*
Me
that a yes?
Rue
fine. but don’t make it a big deal
My heart skips in a way it hasn’t in years.
Me
no promises
The bell rings, echoing down the hallway as students shuffle into classrooms. I keep my head down during most of the morning, trying to focus, but every now and then, I catch myself glancing at the clock, already thinking about lunch. I haven’t sat with Rue at school since we were still friends and she didn’t hate my guts.
When the lunch bell finally rings, I head to the cafeteria with Tucker. The scent of garlic breadsticks and mystery meat wafts through the air as we push through the doors. The place is already loud with chairs scraping and trays clattering. Students crowd the long lunch tables, backpacks piled underneath and half-open milk cartons scattered everywhere.
Once our trays of food are in hand, we head toward the tables.
“I can’t believe you’re going to sit with her,” says Tucker. “You always sit with the team.”
