Rebel at Spruce High

“They didn’t.”

I squint uncertainly at him. “What do you mean?”

“Julio has been benched for the rest of the season. Benji and Hoyt were given scoldings in front of the whole team. Then they were brought into Coach Strong’s office, where he told them both that if they don’t wish to represent the integrity, character, and compassionate spirit of a Spruce Tiger, he would kick them off the team without batting an eye. Even their star quarterback.” Toby eyes me. “Do you realize how big of a deal that is here in Texas? To do that to a senior varsity football player during his senior year? I honestly can’t think of a worse punishment.”

I let that sink in. “Alright. So … So Coach Strong lived up to his word. That’s …” Is it wrong to feel vindicated somehow? “… good.”

“Yeah,” Toby lamely agrees, then says nothing more.

I look at him. I want to scoot closer to him, to put my arm over his back, to squeeze him against me. I want to put my lips on his and assure him everything is going to be alright. Yet … “And where does that leave us, Toby? What happened to us …?”

“I’ve been thinking …” Toby takes hold of his balled-up apron, then sets it in his lap and stares into it like a crystal ball. “Maybe we rushed into this a little fast … you and I.”

“A little fast …?”

“I mean, we were so caught up in the passion of the play, and we were rehearsing, and then suddenly we’re making out and …” Toby lets out a jagged, frustrated sigh. “Sorry, I … I had this all worked out in my head before meeting you here, and now I’m just a nervous wreck.”

Worked out in his head …? Is this a breakup speech? “Toby, are you breaking up with me?”

He swallows and internally squirms before answering: “No.”

“Then what is this?”

“This is me just putting on the brakes. A little bit. I just think we should maybe, like … step back a bit. Take a tiny step back. And just …” He sighs, then finally faces me full-on. “Let’s be friends.”

“Friends??” I blurt out.

“We went from total strangers to classmates to lovers. In that order.” He reconsiders. “Well, throw ‘castmates’ in there, too. But I never got the chance to really be just … just your friend.”

I count back from ten. I allow myself to breathe as I stare at Toby’s eyes, which are damned near blinding in the brilliant light from the afternoon sun that catches in them, making the irises sparkle like ocean water. I may not like his suggestion. It may even be maddening. But if this is what Toby needs—what Toby truly needs—then I’m going to agree to it full-force.

I nod. “Alright.”

Toby has a moment of surprise. “A-Alright …?”

“Yep.” I give him an unexpectedly patient, tranquil, and level-headed version of myself. “If that’s what you want us to do, then I’m going to do it for you, Toby.”

The look he gives me is the same one he gave me when he said he loved me. The way the blues of his eyes melt. The way he looks like he could cry. “That’s … That’s great.” He smiles, his eyes wet.

I give him a gentle smile back as a sudden wind picks up our hair, dancing in the trees around us, feeling strangely cool. And I keep that smile on my face, despite the deep-down sensation of my soul being crushed in a trash compactor at Toby’s request.

Friends. Just friends. A step back. Putting on the brakes. I can’t think of a worse torture to ask of someone who’s so maddeningly in love with you, Toby Michaels.

18 | TOBY

I have to be completely out of my mind.

There is no other explanation.

I don’t see him before class anymore. And he doesn’t wait for me after his first period. When I sit next to him in chemistry, I can literally feel electricity crackling off of him and surging into me like some kind of gay, erotic energy wave. Ever since agreeing to just be friends, I have felt desperately hungry for his tight hugs, and his firm, full-mouthed, take-charge kisses.

Isn’t that what makes Vann who he is? His disregard for social norms and rules? What have I done to him? I feel like the sea hag who’s stolen the merman’s tongue, silencing everything about the love of my life that made him special.

After gym class, once again, we part ways with a simple, “See ya,” and then I don’t even get the pleasure of his company during lunch. Even as I sit at the theatre table, I can’t see where in the cafeteria he’s sitting anymore. For all I know, he takes his tray to the bathroom and eats in a stall by himself.