The entire house is silent. I’m sure girls are finding this ultra-swoonworthy. Honestly, so am I. His words turn the lights on in some corner of me. It’s not some movie I can laugh at. It’s real life, real emotion, happening right in my face. And all I can think is how much I want to see Ezra right now.

Steve steps away from the door. But Huxley doesn’t leave. She kisses him.

The house erupts in cheers and awws. Girls smooch their boyfriends.

He hugs her so tight he may snap her in half.

“I miss Derek,” Bari mutters under her breath.

My heart is beating full-on out of control, and something like electroshock therapy runs from my scalp to my big toe. I can’t string together a thought. They keep getting scrambled in my brain, and Ezra keeps popping up, like I’m searching for a radio station in the middle of nowhere and getting the same one every time. I have to get out of here.

I sneak behind Huxley and Steve still kissing and out the door. The cold air brushes against my skin and provides a fleeting moment of composure, but then the confusion returns. I walk to the corner of the street and take out my phone. A groggy voice answers.

“Can you pick me up?” I ask. I don’t know what I’m thinking. Am I thinking? I may feel an iota of what Steve feels, but I can’t tell. I can’t decipher this.

I talk myself through it. Okay, Becca, you got a little emotional. That happens, but you’re out of there. I must appear like a crazy person talking to myself on a street corner at 2:00 a.m. I spend the next twenty minutes calming myself down. That was an emotional scene, and it left me a little frazzled. It happens. I’m not made of stone. But then Ezra pulls up in his car. Just seeing him through the windshield flips the electroshock/cardiac-arrest button inside me.

I get into the car, and my body goes numb with nerves.

“Looks like some party.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s the only word I can remember. I can’t look at him directly, so I stare at my trembling hands.

“Becca, seriously, are you okay?”

“I think we should kiss,” I say.

He doesn’t say anything back. He smells nice for just rolling out of bed. I sniff the cologne on him. Another sign this is a bad idea.

“I don’t know what I’m... You’re really cute. And I’m sorry I called—”

He shuts me up with a kiss, and the confusion disappears.

27

Love is in the air at Ashland. The school has been nonstop buzzing about Chris Gomberg’s party. They sigh over Steve’s bloody declaration of devotion to Huxley, but all I hear is my plan blowing up in my face.

I’m in the minority. Instead of the dramatic kiss at the party, there’s a different kiss I can’t stop thinking about.

Ms. Hardwick blabbers on about some book. When I look up at the chalkboard, I see Ezra’s lips coming at me.

In comes Steve, carrying Huxley over the threshold as the bell dings. “Here you go, Ms. H. Your top student!”

The girls and Ms. Hardwick aww. Am I missing the girl gene that forces me to aww whenever I see something corny? Or was there a mass lobotomy I wasn’t invited to?

“Oh, Steve. Put me down!” He grants her wish. Huxley smoothes out her outfit. She’s wearing one of Steve’s blue dress shirts cinched at the waist with an oversize belt and black tights. Only Huxley makes the ensemble look chic and not trashy. Yet another reason why I need to go back to hating her.

“Steve, you’re late to class!” Ms. Hardwick says.

He shrugs and runs his finger down Huxley’s arm. “It was worth it.”

Another round of awws. Okay, you two rediscovered your mutual infatuation with each other. Moving on...

“Go!” Ms. Hardwick crosses her arms, finally laying down the law.

He pecks Huxley on the lips. “I’ll see you later.” He rushes out the door.

“That is so embarrassing,” Huxley says, not meaning it. “I’m sorry for disrupting class, Ms. Hardwick.”

“It’s all right. Please get to your seat, Huxley. We have a lot to cover today.”

“Sure thing.”

I’ve created a monster.

* * *

I make a mad dash to my locker before lunch. I will buy a Snickers at the vending machine and eat it in the library today. Between Huxley and Steve, Val and Ezra, and Bari and Calista, the cafeteria is the last place I want to be. And Snickers have unheralded nutritional value.

When I open my locker, a letter flutters to the floor. It stares at me, threatening me with its contents. Has someone guessed that I’m the Break-Up Artist? I pick it up. This is ridiculous. I can’t be truly worried until I open it.

I can’t stop thinking about you. When can I see you again?—E

I slide to the floor. He wrote it in cursive. There’s something so old-fashioned about it, in a good way. My stomach churns with equal parts ecstasy and dread. Suddenly, I’m no longer craving a Snickers.

I receive the second note of the day in Latin class. This time, I know the author. I rip open the paper football. I’m nervous, but I can’t wait. I have to know what she knows.

My body stops functioning, like cement was poured over it.

“Becca,” Mr. Hoffman asks. “You okay?”

I nod my head yes, even though inside I’m screaming no.

WE NEED TO TALK

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID

I can’t run out of class. She’ll hunt me down.

When the bell rings, she takes my hand and leads me out of class.

“Val, I’m so sorry,” I blurt out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a date?”

“Colin Baker?”

“He sounds cute! Dish!”

A tsunami of relief washes over me. My date seems like forever ago. I refresh my memory before describing the guy and date to Val. I omit the broken-nose detail.

“He was a nice guy, but I don’t think he was into me.”

“I know all about that. Don’t worry, Becca. On to the next,” she says. We head through the cluttered corridor as kids race to catch their buses.

“I’m going to hold off for a little while on the dating front.”

“Becca,” she says, wiping a clump of mascara from my lashes. “You have to get back out there. So you had one bad date. Move on. You just have to keep searching, weeding out all the losers. Mr. Right is out there, but you can’t just sit back and hope he finds you.”

And then Val gives me the look, the look Diane warned me about. The look Huxley has perfected into a science. The “oh, you poor, pathetic single girl” look. Wide eyes, pouting lips. One of the biggest joys coupled girls have is giving their single friends dating advice. Just because they lucked out—and it’s luck, nothing more—they believe that makes them dating experts. I’m sure it’s one of the reasons Val worked so hard to land a boyfriend. She’s always wanted to be on the other side of this conversation.

“Val, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“That’s not a healthy attitude. There are so many great guys out there. Don’t shut yourself off.”

“I don’t need your advice!”

Val leans back, surprised by my outburst. “Fine, you don’t want my opinion. Let’s get a guy’s point of view. Ezra!”

With preternatural timing, Ezra walks down the hall at that exact moment. I wonder if he’s been watching us, if he saw my outburst. My body clenches, bracing for impact. But I also can’t wait to look at him again.

“Hey,” he says to Val. I never noticed how cute his deep radio-deejay voice sounds.

“Ezra, tell Becca that she needs to get out there and keep dating.”

Ezra and I look at each other, neither of us wanting to talk first. The thumping of my heart in my ears drowns out all ambient noise. It’s just me, Val, Ezra and blurriness.

“I don’t really think that’s my place to say,” he says.

“C’mon, even as a hypothetical,” Val says. “She needs to keep dating. There are a lot of good guys at Ashland.”

“I don’t know,” he says, his eyes drifting up.

“Can we not talk about my dating life?”

“Oh, stop. We’re all friends here.”

Ezra licks his lips. Awkward and adorable, for sure.

“What do you think, Ezra?” I ask. “Are there decent guys at this school?”

“There’s a handful.”

“Exactly, sweetie,” Val says. “Well, more than a handful. Three and a half handfuls.”

“But, you know,” Ezra says. He waves his finger, a grin emerging on his face. “I don’t think you should worry. I think if there is a gentleman interested in you, he will make it known. He wouldn’t let you get away.”

I grip my hanging backpack straps. “You think?”

“I have a feeling. He just has to wait for the right time, or until he can’t wait any longer.”

“It’s all about timing,” Val says.

“Good to know,” I say. I take a calming breath.

“Thanks, honey,” Val says to Ezra. “You’re the best.” She kisses him on the lips softly. Not like how I kissed him.

* * *

The only way to get my mind off the current drama surrounding my life is work. Not homework.

My other work.

Since it seems dangling another girl or guy in front of their faces is useless, I have to take a new tack to split up Steve and Huxley. I have to look within. I browse pictures of them online. I can only imagine how much worse school will be now that they’ve patched things up. Everyone will want to be like them. Students will move heaven and earth to find a suitable soul mate. And us singletons will be ostracized even more. I can’t let that happen. I click on a picture of Steve and Huxley in cowboy hats at some carnival, and the conversation I heard between Coach and Steve flashes in my mind. Then I remember Greg Baylor talking up Chandler University at lunch.