by Micol Ostow
“Having a good time?” Mr. Ritter asked. She didn’t think he was asking just about the evening.
“I am,” Billie said, considering. “But—I wanted to tell you…” She paused.
Mr. Ritter widened his eyes, questioning.
“I…I think I’m going to do the sit-in. With the Green Gorillas. And, um, the article for the Fairlawn paper.” She couldn’t deny the thrill she got at thinking about protesting alongside the other Green Gorillas.
“Are you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes?” Billie squared her shoulders. “Yes.” It wasn’t a question, either.
But Mr. Ritter surprised her, stepping forward. “Good,” he said firmly.
“Good?” Billie was confused.
Mr. Ritter sighed. “The truth is, Billie, you actually remind me a lot of myself when I was your age. I was very idealistic. Once upon a time, I would have been the one pushing for electric cars, insisting hybrid engineering wasn’t enough.”
“What happened?”
“Reality happened,” he said, looking thoughtful. “I’m part of the system now, and in order to make things happen, I need to work within the system.” He smiled. “You’ll see.”
Billie shrugged. “I sort of hope I don’t. See, that is.”
He smiled. “I sort of hope you don’t, either. And that’s what youth is for—idealism. So I hope you have a great time with your protest. And that you change a lot of people’s minds about Proposition Seven. I’d love to have a budget increase that allowed us to move forward with the cleanup more quickly.”
Billie grinned. “I’d love that, too.”
Billie had barely made it down the hallway when she felt a tap at her shoulder and whirled around. This time, it was Parker. He smelled like high-end shampoo and sports deodorant. He really was attractive. It was a shame she’d had to push him away. There was no way that he was still interested in her—no matter what Eliza may or may not have said to him. Boys had very fragile egos—she’d read that in a magazine once.
“Was that what I thought it was?” he asked, incredulous.
“Depends what you thought it was.”
“It sure looked like Mr. Ritter playing nice with you,” he said.
Billie nodded proudly. “Yup. Said I reminded him of himself. All filled with good intentions and the like.”
“You are,” Parker said. “You’re the quintessential dogooder. Not to mention—you clean up pretty nice, too.”
She blushed. “Thanks. All of the makeup is organic.”
Parker laughed. “I wasn’t worried. Besides, Fiona told me about your makeover. She said that she and Annabelle basically pinned you down and forced a curling iron on you.”
“Just about. But I rather like the results, I have to say. When were you talking to her?”
“We danced for a bit before it was time for her to man her auction station,” Parker confessed.
Now it was Billie’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “Really?” As much as she assumed that Parker was well over his feelings for her, she hadn’t thought he’d be so quick to move on to another bird.
“Really. She’s actually quite funny once you pry her away from her ball and chain.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Billie decided. “I guess I hadn’t thought that she was exactly your type.”
“And what would you know about my type?” Parker asked, his eyes twinkling.
This was it: the moment of truth. She had to just go for it. Didn’t she?
“Eliza—” she said, almost choking on the name.
Parker held up a hand. “I spoke to her. We’re not together anymore. And I told her...” He trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.
“Yes?” Billie’s stomach flipped. Could he be about to say what she hoped he was about to say?
“I told her that I had feelings for you,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “And she was okay with it.”
Forget flipping—her stomach was doing a full-on back handspring. Billie wanted to jump up and down and giggle like a little girl.
Instead, she managed to maintain her composure. “Really,” she said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have another dance with Fiona?” She grinned to show him that she was only kidding.
Parker smiled in a way that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up adorably. “You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said. “Actually,” he went on, “you’re pretty much always cute.”
Swoon. It was all Billie could do not to melt into a puddle right there on the ballroom floor. She channeled all of her energy into remaining upright and returning Parker’s steady gaze.
“So,” Parker said, breaking into her thoughts. “You’ve got a few weeks left of your semester abroad. The banquet has come and gone. Proposition Seven is on hold, despite our best efforts. What now?”
Billie giggled. He was right—so much had happened. And yet, she wasn’t too concerned. There was still the Green Gorillas, the sit-in and article…and lots of other causes. She wasn’t done fighting. Not by a long shot. Mr. Ritter seemed to respect Billie’s sticking to her convictions. So she was just going to keep right on doing so. And best of all? She’d have Parker at her side while she did.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” she said to Parker, stepping forward and letting him take her hand in his own. “No worries.”
He leaned forward to kiss her, pausing only to brush a wisp of hair off of her forehead. “No worries, indeed,” he agreed.
And then they didn’t say anything at all.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: almost home!
Well, your father’s banquet has come and gone! I imagine you’re used to these bashes by now, but I can tell you, my feet are screaming. Those peep-toe stilettos might have been gorj, but give me a pair of comfortable trainers any day. If there’s one thing I’m learning here in D.C., it’s that I know what I like, what I believe in, and what works for me.
And I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you, but I have to thank you for whatever it was that you said to Parker. I obviously don’t know him nearly as well as you do, but I know he appreciated hearing from you. And I’m glad for the chance to get to know him better during my time here.
You’d be surprised how much people respect a little bit of honesty and straightforwardness. I know I was.
It seems strange that we’ve swapped places this semester; we know so much about each other’s life even though we’ve never met in person. Thanks for agreeing to do the exchange. Let’s make a pact to get the absolute most out of our last few weeks—me up over, and you down under.
What do you think?
Billie
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: almost home!
I’m glad you made it through one of the dreaded banquets. The only thing worse than those are the benefit concerts with Tibetan yak singers or some such.
As for me, I’ve had my share of excitement. I totally know what you mean about feeling like we know each other but don’t know each other. I feel a deep kinship with anyone who ever had to put on a Fishy Wishy fry hat!
I know I did the right thing in being straight with Parker, and honestly, I think it’s great that you guys clicked.
I can also be straight with you: as much as I hate the thought, I know things with Macca—like the semester—are going to have to end eventually. Even so, I’m going to enjoy the last weeks here. Who knows? Maybe in a couple years you’ll be up for doing a university exchange!
I’d like to spend some more time down under—if you’re willing to head back up over, that is!
Eliza
Read all the books in the S.A.S.S. series.
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