“Not a date. Not yet anyway. I’m thinking we could walk to school together.”
Becca sits up, looking at me like I’ve just killed her dog. “You’re ditching me?”
“No. I’m trying to fit everything in.”
“Sloane. Our drive to school is sacred.”
She’s ridiculous. “Becca, you aren’t awake for our drive to school. We sit silently until you have a bucket of coffee inside you.”
“It’s still our thing,” she huffs, snatching back the chip bag and shoving her hand back inside.
“You’re pissy because it means you’ll have to drive yourself instead of napping in the passenger seat.”
“I resemble that remark.”
Laughing, I refocus on my planner. Eden will need to agree, and for that I need to speak to her. Tomorrow I’ll ask for her number.
“Girls, dinner is served.”
“Yes!” Becca claps. “I love your mom’s meatballs.”
She’s out of the room before I’ve even had time to turn around.
“How was school, honey?” Mom asks as soon as I sit down. Becca is already face deep in spaghetti. I’ve never met anyone who eats like her.
“Good.”
“Gee valked iv Edn.”
Both Mom and I stare at Becca, who looks like a hamster. She’s got sauce all around her face.
Mom chuckles. She’s used to Becca’s less than impeccable table manners. “Sorry, sweetie, could you repeat that?”
Becca swallows and licks her lips. “She walked with Eden.”
There was no need for the eye wiggle.
My face heats as Mum smiles and turns to me. “So, how did it go?”
“Good. I convinced her to train with me. I also convinced Mr. Porter to let Eden catch up on her studies in gym class next semester if she manages a five-kilometer run before Spring.”
“Wow, that’s impressive, baby.” Mom squeezes my upper arm affectionately. I’m not sure it’s normal for a parent to congratulate their kid on getting another student out of class, but hey, she’s team #Sloanden. Yes, I’ve shipped us.
“Sloane can talk anyone into anything, Mrs. B,” Becca says through a mouthful of bread.
“She gets that from me.” Mom grins, winking. “What’s your next step then? It’s a big ask, getting her to run that far in such a small amount of time.”
I sit taller. “I have every faith. I’m going to see if she’ll start walking to school with me.”
“Sloane, she lives on the other side of town,” Becca says, twirling an enormous amount of spaghetti around her fork.
“She does, but if I drive over, we can walk together from her place.”
Dropping her loaded fork, Becca pins me with another stare laced with betrayal. She’s so dramatic.
“You’re ditching me after school too?”
“No,” I begin softly. “If Eden doesn’t want to walk back with me, you can drive me to her house and I can pick up my car. We’ll still hang out.”
