Send Me a Sign (14 page)

I ducked into the desk beside Gyver. He flipped open his notebook, scrawled angry words, and pushed it toward me. I shrugged and gave him a clueless look.

Gyver rewrote his message in block letters—pausing to take a syllabus from the stack being passed around—then slid his notebook across the desk. This time I could read it:
What was that about?
I shook my head and shrugged again.

You ok?

I nodded.

“Please let me know if I mispronounce your names. I’d hate to be calling you Smith all year if it was really Smith-thay. Joyce Reynolds? Nice to meet you, Joyce. MacGyver Russo? Is it Mac-Guy-ver? Like the show?”

I winced and glanced to my right. He lifted a few fingers in response. “Gyver.”

“I loved that show! Can you build stuff out of duct tape and tube socks and ballpoint pens?” Mr. Bonura was under the delusion he was funny. A delusion the rest of the class fed with sycophantic laughter.

“Clever,” Gyver answered calmly. Only the muscle twitching in his jaw betrayed his feelings. I wanted to reach across the aisle and squeeze his hand, but that was impossible while I could taste Ryan’s kiss and see the dark words Gyver had carved in his notebook in response. While M.A. sat in the desk in front of his, her lips pressed together in disapproval and her eyes full of sympathy.

So I made myself cough.

Mr. Bonura’s laughter choked to a halt. He turned to me with a panicked expression.

I stopped coughing and gave him a reassuring smile. He mirrored it feebly and resumed taking attendance.

Chapter 16

“Maybe we should be more than casual hookups,” Ryan suggested. He was waiting at my locker when I stopped to grab my lunch.

“What?” I dropped my book. It landed half in my locker; I kicked it the rest of the way.

“We could go out. I can see myself as your boyfriend.” He shrugged.

“What brought this on?” I leaned against the locker next to mine.

“Ally,” he replied, placing his hands on the lockers on either side of my neck.

“Ally?” I echoed. How could I keep track of how I felt “compared to normal,” when not-normal things kept happening?

“She told Chris about some deal you guys made to stay
single. I couldn’t get it out of my head during math. I didn’t hear a thing Mrs. Kim said.” He grinned and leaned in, kissing close.

This would be the perfect place for one of my faux laughs. I could dismiss his suggestion and push things back to the status quo with one melodic giggle. I opened my mouth, but the sound that came out was a mutated squeak-gasp.

“So, can I be your deal breaker?” He brushed his lips across mine.

“No.” My voice was small. I ducked under his arm and fled.

“No, you don’t want to? Or no, because of Hil’s pact?” Ryan grabbed my lunch and followed me toward the cafeteria, where superficial conversation about classes, teachers, and who had gotten hot—or not—over the summer waited to shift things back toward normal.

“I-I don’t know. Let me think about it.” My frantic fingers sought my necklace.

“Ouch! You need to think about it? You’re breaking my heart.” Ryan feigned a stagger and clutched his chest. When I didn’t smile, his expression turned serious. And stormy. “Fine. Think about it and let me know what you decide.”

He handed me my lunch and walked off to join Chris, Bill, and the rest of the soccer players. I scanned the cafeteria for some sort of sign and jumped when Ally linked her arm through mine.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you all morning! How’s your day? Anything exciting happen?”

I lied. “Just typical school stuff. Boring. How about you?”

“How’d you manage to domesticate Ryan?” The voice was Hillary’s, and it wasn’t happy. She looked like a doll—with her perfect, petite body and oversized eyes—but her current mood was anything but playful. She and Ally waited at my locker after the final bell.

“Why? What’d you hear?” I thought the afternoon had been uneventful. Apparently not.

Lauren joined us, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers that Hil or Ally must’ve given her to celebrate the first day of school—her first day as Autumn Girl. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Ryan told Chris he asked Mia to be his girlfriend. Then Chris told Hil. Can you believe it?” Ally’s eyes were bright with excitement and gossip.

“No,” said Lauren, wide-eyed. “Really? Wow. Good job, Mia.”

“Good job? We agreed! Single Senior Year,” Hil accused. I remembered how crumpled she’d been after Keith tossed her away with the contents of his locker.

“It’s only because he heard about the pact.” I turned my lock absently. Part of me wished he’d meant it, or that the pact was my only reason for saying no.

“At least think about it!” Ally said.

“What happened to all of his potential?” Lauren teased.

“Who cares why he’s doing it? You like him and he’s hot. Anyway, did you guys see the new boy—”

“This is Ryan. He’s not serious,” Hil interrupted. “Do you know how many girls Chris says he hooked up with this summer?”

“Do you know how much Chris exaggerates?” I retorted.

“So explain it to me—if it’s two girls instead of twelve, that’s okay with you?” Hil turned to face me, edging Lauren and Ally out of the conversation.

“He hadn’t asked me then. If he hooked up with someone now, it’d matter. I can’t care what he did while we were in different states and single.”

“
If
you were going to date someone, and you promised you wouldn’t, you could do so much better than him!” Hil’s fingers drummed against her bare arms. “Chris thinks—”

“Who cares? Why would I take dating advice from the guy who broke up with Maggie Arturo by changing his Facebook status to single? Besides, did I miss the part where I expressed any interest in saying yes or dating Ryan? Calm down.”

“So anyway, the new guy?” Lauren persisted.

Ally stepped around Hil and grabbed my arm. “Good point, Laur. There’s not another guy, is there?” She leaned in, eager for confidences she’d accidentally repeat within minutes.

“No, of course not.”

“What about Gyver?” Hil demanded. “You’ve been hanging out a ton lately. Are you really going to tell me that you guys are just buddy-buddy?”

“What? No. We’re just friends!” It was easy to be wrapped
up in this. I wanted to be the girl who’d left this school last June, the one who would’ve giggled, blushed, and eaten this up. The one who wasn’t too exhausted to stand and had to slump against the lockers.

“Ryan can’t be serious, right? I mean, why me?” I could be vulnerable about this, especially with them. I had handed out tissues to each Calendar Girl when they’d had breakups. It was why I’d vowed never to fall for a guy like him. Then, last spring, when I was two beers beyond buzzed at one of Lauren’s hot tub parties, I’d seen him sling an arm around the shoulders of a shy sophomore being mocked by seniors. “Hank’s my buddy,” he’d said, and steered the shocked boy away and introduced him to a giggly girl. Ryan had paused to admire his matchmaking, and I’d pushed him into a corner and pressed my mouth to his.

I was already blushing from that memory when Hil answered, “Probably because you’re the only girl who won’t sleep with him.”

Ally swatted her. “Be nice! Because you’re you, Mia. I mean, he talks to you. Maybe that’s it.”

“Or maybe—” Lauren began.

“Does it really matter why if you’re saying no?” Hil asked. “He’d hurt you, Mia. I know he would.”

“Enough! It’s fall. It’s my season!” exclaimed Lauren. “Can’t I just tell you to say yes or no and we can go back to celebrating me?”

Hil scoffed, “Power-tripping much, Lauren?”

Her face crumbled with the rebuke. “It’s just, it’s my day …”

Hil put her arm around Lauren’s waist. “Come on, girly.
It’s time for practice. I’ll let you pick out the music and lead stretches.”

Lauren perked up. “I’ve got a totally great mix of—”

The intercom buzzed. “Mia Moore, please report to the office.”

They looked at me in surprise; I shrugged. “No clue. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chapter 17

Gyver was waiting in the hall outside the office when I left ten minutes later. “What was that about?”

I sighed, shrugged, too tired to recount Principal Baker’s “How was your first day? We’re all here for you” speech.

“Nothing, really.”

Gyver touched my hand. “You okay?”

“I’m tired. It’s been a long day. The first day of school always is.”

“Why don’t you go home? I’ll take you.”

I wanted to, but I couldn’t give up that easily. “No, it’s all right. Ally’ll drop me off after practice.”

“You sure? You look exhausted.” He stepped in front of me, studying my face.

“Just overwhelmed. Lots to think about. Practice’ll help clear my head. School stuff, friend stuff, that”—I nodded
toward the office—“and … Ryan asked me out.” He’d hear soon enough; it seemed like it should be from me.

At the mention of Ryan’s name, he pulled his hand away and stepped back. I felt the weight of his disapproval on my empty palm and in the space between us. How could he be so supportive with cancer and so judgmental about who I kissed? Did I criticize the amount of history class he spent chatting with stupid M.A.?

“Am I supposed to go tell The Jock he’s a lucky guy?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“No. I don’t know. I haven’t decided anything.”

“Then you’d better get to practice and clear your head.”

“Hurry up and change into your practice clothes,” Hil called as I entered the gym.

“Everything okay?” Ally asked from atop a pyramid. Her form was perfect and her face didn’t waver from its competition smile.

“Fine. It was stupid. I was late for calc. I’ll be right out.” The locker room revealed another challenge: How would I change without the team seeing my port? Maybe layers? I could wear a tank under my school clothing and put practice shirts over the top. All this deception was so tiring.

When I reentered the gym, Hil and Lauren were scrolling through an iPod. Ally was demonstrating something for a
freshman. I nodded to Coach Lindsey and went over to the mats to stretch. With the other girls in tight tanks and bra tops, I felt self-conscious in a T-shirt. It used to be fitted, back when I had curves for it to fit against. I tugged at the extra fabric as I bent down to tie my sneakers.

Ally was calling out a formation when the whistling started. Hil turned with a fake-shocked smile—the soccer players did this every day, whistled and shouted as they ran through the gym and out to their field.

Maybe if I’d been tucked within the confines of the squad, Ryan would’ve continued running with his team. But I was alone on the warm-up mats. He ran over, a confident grin played on his lips as he watched the surprise on mine.

“Made up your mind yet?” He didn’t look angry anymore, just amused—like my agreement was inevitable.

“No,” I answered.

“Winters! Stop flirting and move your butt,” his coach barked from across the gym.

“Coach Burne, control your players,” called mine from her perch on the bleachers.

“Let me know when you do.” Ryan laughed and kissed my cheek before sprinting to catch the rest of his team. I looked between the giggling squad and his retreating back.

“Focus, girls,” said Coach Lindsey.

“If you’re done with whatever you’re doing, Mia, maybe you could join us?” ranted Hil.

I’d passed exhaustion and entered
what the hell!
As I found
my spot in formation, I smiled innocently and offered an insincere apology. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with him—he just won’t leave me alone today!”