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“Do you ever sing them?”
“Yes.” I’m not expecting the answer to fall out of my mouth so easily, without any second-guessing. The only person who ever encouraged my singing was my mother. I tied it up with her, and I really wish I hadn’t. It’s harder to cut up and separate now that she’s no longer part of my life. “I’m good,” I add, almost as an afterthought. “At least, that’s what people have told me.”
“People who left?”
This is one of the main reasons I can’t forget about Teddy the way I know that I should. Because he gets me, more than anyone else ever has. I didn’t think it was possible to be so in tune with someone. I thought it took years to establish synchrony. Teddy proves otherwise every time we talk.
“People who left,” I repeat. “It’s stupid. She’s the one who…my mom will never know. I’m just punishing myself, I guess.”
“She’ll know. When you’re winning Grammys and playing for sold-out crowds.”
I scoff. “I doubt that will happen. Besides, you’ve never even heard me sing. I could suck.”
Tom Petty’s voice drifts away, replaced by a rap number that suggests a very different sort of dancing. The heavy bass reverberates through the room, matching the rapid staccato of my heart.
I’m searching for a way to salvage the situation, to walk away from Teddy with a semblance of closure, when he drops his hands and speaks first. “Meet me in Mrs. Jeeves’s room in ten minutes.”
Before I can register his words, before I can tell him there’s absolutelyno waythat I’m meeting him anywhere, especially a dark classroom, alone, he’s weaving through the crowd of gyrating bodies and disappearing from sight.
I head for the punch. Graham is nowhere to be seen, but he must have spread the word about the altered refreshments because the bowl is half-empty. There’s a chaperone stationed to the right of the table, seemingly unaware of the fact that shenanigans have already taken place.
I fill a plastic cup half-full with punch and take a generous swig.
The alcohol hits my system with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, settling in my stomach and searing my veins. I fight the urge to cough. No wonder I was on guard duty for so long. My burning throat suggests Graham emptied a whole handle of vodka into whatever fruity concoction had already been created.
I abandon my cup and head for the restrooms. The last thing I need right now is a fuzzy head. I’m already struggling to come up with reasons why I shouldn’t meet Teddy.
We’ve been alone before—and nothing has happened. The last time it was just the two of us was the night he told me he broke up with Ellie. Since then, I’ve avoided him like it’s an Olympic sport I’m training for gold in.
That night, I lost count of the times I wanted to kiss him. He’d just broken my stepsister’s heart—I snuck back in the farmhouse to the sound of her crying later that night—and I wanted to kiss him.
Ellie and I are more like strangers than sisters. The only thing we seem to have in common is our taste in men—at least when it comes to one guy. Loyalty to her is tied up with love for my father. He and I have never been exceptionally close. Back when we lived in Chicago, I spent more time in the city than in our apartment. But it’s different now—he’s the only parent I have left. I saw how my mom leaving affected him, and the last thing I want is to be a source of strife between him and his second wife.
The restroom off the gym is empty when I walk inside. It feels strange to be in here, staring at my reflection in a navy dress with straightened hair instead of sporting athletic shorts and a messy ponytail—my usual attire during fifth-period physical education. I duck into a stall to use the bathroom, hearing the click of another pair of high heels enter just after I’ve flushed.
I linger for close to a minute, hoping whoever it is will walk into a stall and I’ll be able to avoid small talk. The only person I’d actually like to converse with right now is the same one I’m currently trying to talk myself out of meeting.
When I open the door, I wish I’d kept hiding.
My stomach lurches uncomfortably as I walk over toward the sinks, forcing fake cheer into my voice. “Hey! Having fun?”
“I saw you dancing,” Ellie informs me as I turn on the tap, turning to face me and crossing her slender arms across her chest.
“Well, it is adance.” I squirt some soap on my hands and spread it around, focusing on sudsing between each individual finger rather than on the eyes burning holes in the side of my face.
“I saw you dancing withhim.”
Unease trickles down my spine. I force my voice to stay light and breezy. “Again, it’s a dance. Dancing is expected. Encouraged even.”
“You danced with Teddy.MyTeddy.”
“He’s a person, not a possession, Ellie.” I rinse my hands and sigh before turning to face her. “I know you’re still ups—”
“Yeah, I am. Not all of us bounce back from breakups in a day, Sutton.”
I pull in a deep breath and exhale slowly, telling myself not to say something I’ll regret later. “Bounce back whenever you want, Ellie. But he’s single. He can dance with whoever he wants.”
“The only person he’s danced with isyou.”
