“Oh, I’m sure. You and Ezra are goals,” Dot says.
I laugh. And then hurry away from the door before either of them realizes I’ve been eavesdropping.
True to its name, Fallbrook is a Christian prep school, and my next class—Bible class—is one of the hardest, but still really fun. Today, Mr. Sterling passes out a worksheet and says, “In light of a certain gossiper returning to Fallbrook—yes, I’ve heardyou all talking—I thought it would be appropriate to remember why gossip is a dangerous thing to indulge in.”
The top of my worksheet reads:
A perverse person stirs up conflict, and a gossip separates close friends.
—Proverbs 16:28
The rest of the worksheet has a number of similar verses about gossip, and my task is to fill in where each verse is found.
Then we take a pop quiz on the differences between the Mosaic covenant and the new covenant, and I’m pretty sure I pass. Surprising, because I can’t stop thinking about how it feels to hold hands with Rue.
Her hands are so much softer than mine, not calloused from playing basketball or lifting weights.
I can’t help but smile at the memory of the way she used to playfully tease me for getting so locked into whatever video game I was into at the time. She always pointed out that I barely wanted to take my hand off the controller to do something as small as take a drink of water. I can’t help but compare the endearing nature of Rue’s teasing back then to the present jabs I’ve gotten from my new friends anytime gaming comes up. Jabs that are clearly trying to demean me, because—even though they’ll dabble in the occasional shooter game—I “only play nerdy stuff” and take gaming too far in general.
Lunch arrives quickly, thanks to all my daydreaming. I find Rue at her usual table. It’s weird that I’m starting to get used to sitting with her and her friends. It’s only been a few days, but somehow it already feels like a routine. I hope it’s not even weirder when we eventually stage our breakup, and I stop sitting there.
I throw my arm around her shoulder when she sits down. “I got you an extra cookie. I know oatmeal raisin is your favorite,” I say, placing it on her lunch tray.
Mabel rests her face on her hands. “Awww.”
No one notices the way Rue goes quiet after that. Or if they do, they don’t say anything. Rue has trouble meeting my gaze, but she blushes and leans in to kiss my cheek.
Or, at least, she tries to.
But I turn my head at the same time, and her lips meet the corner of my mouth instead. Not a full-on kiss, but close. And now my stomach is dancing, but I try to play it cool.
“Ahem.” A throat clears next to us.
I blink away my stupor to find Olivia standing at the edge of our table, flanked by two of her cheerleading friends.
“Oh, no,” I mutter.
Olivia must have been ten years old the last time she talked to Rue. I doubt Rue even recognizes her. Olivia was tall as a kid, with wild curls, but it’s like she started growing early, only to completely stop one day. Now Olivia is short, even for a freshman, and her hair hangs down her back in perfect waves, because she spends hours straightening and curling it every few days.
But to my surprise, Rue lifts her hand in a little wave. “Hey, Olivia.”
My sister beams. “You remember me?”
“Of course, but it’s been a while. You’re all grown up now.”
I clear my throat. “She would say you’ve gotten taller, but that would be a lie.”
Olivia scoffs at me. “Be quiet. I’m talking to Rue. Rue, will you come to our house for dinner on Sunday night, please? My mom is making lasagna.”
I blink, stunned. This wasn’t part of the plan. I was supposed to ask Rue over, not Olivia. What, does she think I’m going to chicken out or something?
Rue also looks at a loss for words. All her friends are watching her stutter as she clearly tries to think of an excuse whyshe can’t. But she doesn’t have one. And I don’t either, otherwise I would come to her rescue, because she clearly doesn’t want to.
“I would love to,” Rue finally says.
Olivia smiles like a kitten who just caught her first mouse. “Perfect. See you then.” She turns on her heel with her friends and leaves me staring after her in disbelief.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper in Rue’s ear. “She shouldn’t have asked you in front of everyone. She did it to pressure you instead of just letting me ask you privately like I told her I would. I promise I’ll talk to her about it later.”
