by Tiana Smith
True, he could be a gentleman when he tried, and I guess that was what made me question everything. Because obviously 15211 was going to put his best foot forward. He had time to think through his responses and come up with clever replies. In real life Carter was impulsive, always ready for fun, and willing to drag me along, helping me get out of my shell whenever I needed it most. He stretched me and got me out of my comfort zone. Usually I appreciated the gesture. But in a boyfriend? I needed someone who I could be myself around, all the time. Someone who could see my bad and not want to change me. Someone, even, who liked those things about me.
The chances that 15211 was Carter were probably one in a million. Right?
What I needed was a sign. Something definite I could point to as proof that 15211 was not Carter and I had nothing to worry about. Then I was pretty sure I could meet him. All the other questions were still there: What if we actually knew each other in real life? What if he wanted nothing to do with me once he found out who I was?
But even with those questions, the payoff was starting to sound a lot better than staying in the dark. If I could prove it wasn’t Carter, I’d chance it.
Probably.
I found the letter I was looking for and opened it up. It was one of the first ones we’d exchanged, where 15211 had told me all the reasons I should be his friend.
If I was being honest with myself, I could probably use more friends. Carter hadn’t even made it back in town until today, so he hadn’t been in school. But things had been weird between us, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. Part of me blamed Carter, which wasn’t fair. I tried to tell myself it’d get better with time, and all I could do was hope I was right.
Naomi might as well have not been in school, for how distracted she was. It was our first day back from winter break, and the entire week previous had been lonely and silent. I’d spent my time doing college applications, so talk about fun.
I obviously knew 15211 wouldn’t contact me over winter break, but without Naomi or Carter to talk to, it seemed like everyone had better things to do. None of my mom’s siblings were in town this year, so Christmas had just been her and me, with our little pile of gifts and our traditional platter of peppermint bark, which we’d finished off in less than a day, a new record.
I fingered the letter in my hand, rereading the parts that made me laugh. I picked up another one, all about how he thought moms always liked him. Then there was the one where he mentioned cooking for his younger siblings.
I sat up straight. 15211 liked to cook for his younger siblings.
Carter’s skills in the kitchen went as far as pouring a bowl of cereal. If he was feeling extra ambitious, he might get fancy and add milk. When his parents left him in charge, he ordered pizza. As far as I knew, he didn’t know the difference between a teaspoon and tablespoon.
I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face.
Now I had other options besides a frustrating boy who didn’t even like me back or the friend who I didn’t want to hurt. I could invest my time and attention into someone who was now a real possibility—one I could actually see playing out. I could picture meeting this mystery guy and maybe hitting it off. He was funny and considerate, and he always made me feel good about myself in our letters. I’d introduce him to Naomi and we could go on double dates without me being a third wheel to her couple bliss. We’d talk about all these expectations other people had for our futures and bond over the fact that we both liked Chinese takeout.
I brought out my phone to text Naomi.
My letter writer—it’s not Carter.
Please let her be awake. And not busy with Dax.
I couldn’t even blame her entirely, since speech and debate had practically taken over my life. Planning the state tournament was a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. Because our food would be more expensive this year, we had to have a fundraiser to cover the extra costs. It wasn’t a whole lot, and we probably would have had to do a fundraiser anyway, but with all the stress from AP Government and everything else going on in my life, it wasn’t like I was looking forward to it.
Luckily, Grayson had given in to my fundraiser idea—after making a big fuss about it. He kept suggesting selling things like candy or donuts. Basically, all the things that would be a lot of work and would take a portion of our profits. He didn’t think the school administration would go for my idea. But then I dragged him into the office and spoken directly with the principal and shown Grayson that sometimes the simplest solution really was the best one.
Normally we couldn’t wear hats at our school. But the principal had allowed us to plan a hat day, where students could pay a couple bucks for the privilege, and we’d get to pocket all the profits.
Eat that, Grayson.
All that to say I’d been spending more time on speech and debate stuff than I’d wanted lately, and I was feeling like my friendships were paying the price.
My phone chimed with a text from Naomi.
How do you know it’s not Carter?
I hurried in my response.
Because 15211 said he likes to cook for his younger siblings.
She texted back right away.
Oh! And Carter only knows how to order pizza! Yes!
She sent a GIF of a girl wiping her brow in relief, which I totally related to.
That means Mr. Note Guy isn’t off-limits anymore. Go get him, girl!
I smiled at her response and put my phone down on my desk. I replaced the letters and locked them up. My mom already knew more about my romantic life than I was comfortable with.
I took the lists out, the ones that had all the students listed that were in AP Government. Then I crossed Carter’s name off with a bold slash of my pen. There were still too many possibilities, mostly because I simply didn’t know enough of the guys on the list well enough to know for sure one way or the other. It wasn’t like I could go up to people I barely knew and ask them if their parents were still together, and oh, by the way, do you know how to pronounce Worcestershire?
But it was one less person to be concerned about.
Now if I could get my grades up in AP Government, everything would finally be working out. I’d been winning at speech tournaments, but the more time I devoted to that, the more my grades suffered.
I fell back on my bed in an exhausted whoosh. Grown-ups always thought high school was so easy. But all they had to worry about was a job they already knew how to do. They had their established group of friends, and a lot of them didn’t even have to worry about dating because they were in long-term relationships. They didn’t have to learn new information all the time and balance that with new relationships or anything like that. They simply did their usual thing every day and kept things the status quo.
The status quo was easy. It was change that was paralyzing.
Change, like wondering whether I should meet 15211 in person or not.
* * *
THIS WEEKEND WAS a huge national forensics tournament in Arizona. It wasn’t Nationals with a capital N. You didn’t have to qualify to compete, and anyone could go. It just happened to be open nationally. But it was still good prep for the later tournaments because most people wouldn’t pay for the travel unless they had something to prove. I was one of those people. I needed to crush Grayson into dust.
Our team was only bringing four students, which meant we were actually able to fly instead of drive, thankfully. It was Thursday morning and we were meeting at school, but not actually going to classes. Even with flying, we’d miss two days of school, right after winter break.
I already felt stressed knowing how much work the teachers would assign while we were gone to catch up on everything. Especially my AP Government teacher, who loved essays more than life itself.
I was stressing about all the work, but worse was the idea of being seated on a confined airplane next to Grayson. Our Duo Interpretation team, Aisha and Landon were coming too, but they listened to their headphones all the time at
meets, and I didn’t think this trip would be any different. Besides being a duo pair, they were also a couple, and I was pretty sure they’d be in their own little world the whole time. But the flight wasn’t that long, so hopefully I could ignore Grayson. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d say much with our coach right there. Hopefully.
I paced the school hallway outside the speech room while I waited for everyone else to show up. The trip made me so anxious, I’d shown up a full half hour early to our meeting time. Students and teachers weren’t even here yet, so the school was eerily silent.
I walked downstairs to the AP Government room. I wasn’t sure if the room was open, but I wanted to see if 15211 happened to leave me another note.
He hadn’t.
But I did have my latest test in my cubby. It was facedown, and I debated whether to look or not. On the plus side, it’d put me out of my misery so I wouldn’t have to wonder the whole trip whether all my studying had helped at all. But on the down side, if I got a bad grade, it might put me in a funk for the tournament, so competing could be rocky.
I flipped the test over and stared at the grade scratched across the top.
I’d failed. Literally. Not just, wow, that was a bad score, but an actual F was marked in red, like a beacon for my inadequacy for the whole world to see.
I wasn’t sure how it was possible. How could I be so bad at something even when I tried my hardest?
I leaned against the cubbies and sank down until I was sitting on the floor, holding the test in front of me between my knees. The cherry on top was that I’d put in the effort. I needed actual help, like from a tutor or something. But I’d never be able to afford a tutor when I could barely afford pantyhose.
Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes and the F swam in front of my vision. It shouldn’t have mattered this much. This sharp pain in my gut shouldn’t have been there. But I was helpless against the sheer enormity of it all. Helpless. That was a good word for it. Because it didn’t feel like there was anything I could do that would make any kind of difference. Plus, the fact that I’d come here for something to boost me up but only got torn down wasn’t making it any easier to swallow.
I knew I shouldn’t compare, but I couldn’t help it—I climbed back to my feet and walked to 15211’s cubby. I had to know his score. Was I the only one who struggled so much with the class? Or had everyone bombed the test? Maybe it’d been impossibly difficult and everyone going to class today would hear all about how Ms. Navarrete had decided to grade it on a curve.
I flipped over his test and groaned. Of course he’d gotten an A. There was even a plus mark next to it, rubbing my failure in for good measure. Putting his test back the way it was, I looked at my own to see what I’d missed.
Practically everything. They were little details and dates I couldn’t help but mix up. How could someone possibly keep all these facts straight? How did 15211 do it?
My chest hitched. If we met in person, maybe he could tutor me and I wouldn’t have to pay someone money I didn’t have. He’d probably say yes. He was nice like that. Plus, he obviously knew what he was talking about. I doubted there was someone in all of Ms. Navarrete’s classes who was getting a better grade. At least, not someone who’d be willing to help me.
I fingered the edge of my paper while I thought things over.
Pros and cons. There were so many of each and I was running out of time to decide. Pretty soon, other students would start showing up; plus, I needed to get back upstairs.
My heart hammered in my rib cage. My hands were sweaty on my paper and I bit my lip. There’d be no turning back from this. The pressure was building in my chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Tearing the blank lower section of my test off, I pulled out a pen and scribbled a hasty note.
I shoved the note in his cubby before I could talk myself out of it.
You still want to meet?
Chapter Nineteen
I thought the flight down to the Arizona competition would be the worst part of the trip. But that’d been over before I’d even finished listening to my audiobook, and Grayson had sat on the other side of Coach. No, sharing a room with Aisha was worse. Especially getting back to the hotel the first night of the competition to find Aisha and Landon all tangled on her bed while they watched a movie and I somehow had to find somewhere else to go for a couple of hours. They said I could stay and watch the movie with them, but yeah, that wasn’t happening.
Coach had given us a whole spiel on proper conduct since we only had two people per room and she didn’t want a scandal on her hands. So I didn’t think anything was going to happen, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel either.
I didn’t have a lot of options. The hotel lobby only had two chairs in it, and they were taken by a petite older woman and her very large dog, who took up a chair all on his own. The receptionist kept giving the woman a disapproving glare, but didn’t say anything, so I was out of luck there.
Coach Bates had her own room. But somehow I didn’t think Aisha would like it if I went there to hang out.
It was much warmer here in Phoenix than it was in Boise, so I could go outside. My stomach kept clenching angrily, demanding food. I didn’t think there were any restaurants nearby, though, and my feet were already protesting from walking around all day in heels. Students were on their own for dinner at all the meets. Usually there was something at the tournament itself, like what we were planning for the state meet, but this one was too large to accommodate that many people.
I could order food and have it delivered. But to do that, I’d need to look up the phone numbers for those places, and my data plan had already run out for the month. I walked over to the receptionist, who was still staring at the woman and her dog like she could telepathically move them with the force of her gaze.
“Excuse me, do you have Wi-Fi here?” I asked.
The receptionist didn’t even look at me as she answered. “Yes. A credit card is required, though.” She tapped a sign to her right, which had all the fees written out. I let out a breath. It figured.
“Okay, well, do you have any takeout menus or anything from some close food places?”
The receptionist finally looked at me. “No. Sorry.”
She was so helpful. I tried not to roll my eyes. “Do you have room service?”
Room service was expensive. But I was running out of options.
She handed me a paper menu. “You can take it to your room.”
That was the other downside with room service. You had to have a room they could deliver it to. I guessed I could hang out outside my own room, but that seemed all kinds of pathetic.
My stomach clenched again and I knew I’d need to act fast before I reached my hangry point.
My room was down the hall to the right.
I turned left instead.
I walked to room 223 and stood outside, my hand raised to knock, hovering right near the surface. My stomach gurgled and I was pretty sure it was loud enough to hear even behind the closed door.
I knocked, and my hand only shook a little.
I could hear shuffling behind the door. Then it opened and Grayson was standing there in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt that was tight around his arms. I tried not to stare. I failed.
“Quinn.” He leaned against the doorframe. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“Can I borrow your phone?” I blurted.
I was too tired and hungry to banter around. I wanted to order food and get out of here.
His eyebrows drew together and he processed what I said. I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, twisting a loose thread around my finger until it nearly lost all circulation. Realization dawned on his face, and he grinned.
“So … what you’re saying is, you need my help.” He looked entirely too smug about it.
I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue, as much as it physically pained me to do so. I hated when Grayson was right.
“Why?” he asked. The word seemed to ta
ke up all the space between us. Why? I wanted to ask him the same thing. Why don’t you like me? Why’d you have to kiss me and make me realize my own feelings only to set me up?
“Because my data is up, the hotel charges for Wi-Fi, and if I don’t find a place for food soon, I’m pretty sure I might eat the furniture.”
One side of his mouth quirked up in a smile and he held the door open for me to come in. “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”
I hesitated before stepping in. Really, I could use his phone in the hallway, so I didn’t need to go in there. I didn’t need to tempt fate.
Grayson walked to the small table where his phone was sitting and he handed it to me after unlocking it. I immediately sat on the side of his bed and started looking up fast food places.
“I’m guessing my roommate is now in your room?” Grayson asked, sitting down too. He was only a foot away from me, his back against the headboard as he brought his legs up under him.
I nodded, trying not to think about how close we sat or how I could smell the soap on his skin. He must have showered right after getting back from the competition. His soap had a nice clean yet spicy scent to it that I really liked. Ugh. Why couldn’t he have been gross? It’d be so much easier to hate him. Instead he smelled, and looked, like an Old Spice commercial.
Nope. Not thinking about it. It was all part of his trap.
“Why are there no good food places close to us?” I asked, scrolling through the options. “The closest pizza place is still a half-hour wait.” I sighed in resignation. “At least they deliver.” I clicked on one of the search results, then pulled out my own phone to dial the number. Pizza places often added the number you called from to the order, and I didn’t want to wait around here in case they called. My nerves were already fried enough.
Grayson leaned over and plucked his phone and the room service menu from my hands. My breath hitched at the close proximity and I sat very still until he leaned back.
“Or we could order room service,” he said, like he hadn’t just caused me to go into shock. “It’d be faster.” I’d hoped that time would make it easier to be around Grayson. Unfortunately, the universe had it out for me. Sure, I acted all tough on the outside, but inside, I was still vulnerable. I hated that.
