Page 16 of Catching Feelings

What was I thinking? I couldn’t get Sabrina’s face out of my mind all throughout today’s classes, and that is not a good sign. Agreeing to her offer is supposed to be a way to keep things simple, but something about her matter-of-fact confidence really got me. That whoa, tiger still makes me smile when I remember it, and her insistence this will give us both the chance to fend off complications this year…

Well, something about it makes me want to know her full story.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thoughts, and check my phone. The parking lot is turning dusky in the fading light, but still no sign of Ryan. He was nice enough to drop me off this morning, but I can’t blame him for forgetting to wait for me after school—he’s busy, has his own life. He had preseason training today, and maybe he got caught up afterward. He’s already helped me settle in so much—I can’t expect him to be there for my every chauffeuring whim.

All that’s waiting for me in my messages is a few texts from Santi. Of course he’s the one who reached out. The softest of us all. Hey man, just thinking about you as the season starts up. Hope you’re doing okay.

Even that feels like a knife in the back. It’s easy to think about me after they’ve turned away and don’t have to do anything for real.

I tuck my phone in my pocket—still nothing from Ryan, and I don’t know what to say to Santi—and head for the sidewalk. It’s not that far. At least walking gives me a chance to work through the weird nerves in my stomach at the idea of going to homecoming with Sabrina, to untangle the thoughts that immediately come tumbling back in. This plan is definitely the best solution to our problems—but why does she not want a real date? She’s so pretty, she could probably go with anyone she wanted…

She seems comfortable with the limelight. Everyone at this school knows her. Her glow raises a tiny prickle of nerves—she’s the opposite of the shadows I was hoping to hide in this year—but I can’t ignore the comfort her confidence gives me. She’s so at home here, it makes me feel like I could fit in too; and she’s so damn welcoming, like she wants everyone to feel the same.

She’s been cool so far, and she doesn’t need to be a crack in my armor. She just wants to keep her head down too.

The perfect shield.

Just then, as if I’ve conjured her, a familiar blond ponytail bounces down the steps in front of me. Her face is obscured by the enormous box of posters she’s carrying, trying to brace them in one arm while digging in her bag with the other hand.

I jog toward her before I know what I’m doing. “Here, let me help.”

She only hesitates for a second before relinquishing the box. It’s light but bulky, and without it she extracts her keys easily. “Thank you,” she says. “Pep rally advertisements won’t hang themselves! Do you mind following me? I’m right here in the north lot.”

I nod and follow her lead, stealing glances at her profile as we go. Her face, now that I can see it, is set in an unfamiliar frown. She’s always busy, but usually she seems to be enjoying herself. Today she just looks stressed. My own brow furrows in response, and I’m surprised at my instinct to fix whatever her problem is.

A few paces later, we stop in front of an ancient gold Camry in the very front row. I almost laugh. “Nice spot. Spirit Committee privileges?”

“Hardly. More the natural result of getting here at seven a.m. to use the faculty printer before anyone catches me.” She unlocks the trunk and turns to grin mischievously at me. “You won’t tell, will you?”

My mouth goes mysteriously dry. “My lips are sealed.”

Her eyes flick to them for a moment before darting back up to meet my gaze. “Thanks. And thanks for helping me with these. You finish practice?”

I grimace. “Yeah. But I think my ride forgot about me, so… I better get walking.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She gestures toward the passenger side. “I can give you a ride.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Hamilton Lakes is small.” She throws me an amused glance. “No chance it’s more than five minutes out of my way.”

I hesitate, but I can’t deny it: She’d be doing me a huge favor, and I wouldn’t mind the chance to spend more time with her. “If you’re sure…”

She motions me to hurry up, and I jog around to slide in beside her. But when I do, she’s thumping the dash of her car with a groan.

“Just one second,” she says, frowning. When she turns the keys in the ignition, it makes that strange, spluttering sound engines do when they’re struggling to turn over.

She heaves a sigh of resignation. “Can you hop out for a second? I just need someone to open and close the hood while I turn the headlights off and on.”

I blink at her. “Is this some hazing exercise for new football players?”

She rolls her eyes. “You think I have time to haze you?”

“How should I know? You somehow have time to create buddy systems and pep rallies and interview series. Why not add some light hazing to the list?” But I grin and follow her instructions, hopping out to unlatch the hood. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since arriving in Hamilton Lakes, it’s that Sabrina’s orders are to be followed, not questioned.

Sure enough, a few hood opens and closes and headlight switcheroos later, the engine catches and the car splutters to life.

I hop back into the passenger seat, and we pull out of the lot. “I’m on Oakwood, other side of downtown.” She nods, and I can’t resist a smirk. “If your car can make it that far. This thing really reliable enough to get you to and from school every day?”