Perfect Couple (Superlatives 2)

“I’ve got it,” Brody said, opening his wallet.

“Let’s split it,” I suggested, “since it’s a fake date anyway.” I sounded bitter.

Closing my purse, I picked up the camera and glanced again at my favorite of the photos on the view screen, the one with Brody looking truly enraptured with me, or in great pain. “I don’t know. Maybe Sawyer’s right. Should we try taking this photo again somewhere else?”

“You tell me,” Brody said. “You’re the one who’s so concerned about what Kennedy thinks.”

I looked Brody in the eye. He held my gaze. A chill washed over me. Electricity zinged between us just as it had in the pavilion, even though now we weren’t touching. It sounded like he was asking me to cheat on Kennedy with him, as if whether he cheated on Grace made no difference to him whatsoever.

But if that’s all he wanted, I couldn’t play along. I felt such a strong connection with him, way stronger than I’d ever felt with Kennedy. If he didn’t feel the same way about me—and he obviously didn’t, if he wanted to stay with Grace—we needed to take this relationship back to a friendly flirtation, where it belonged.

“I don’t have an idea for another photo right now.” I scooted out of the booth and stood.

“If you do,” he said, standing too, “let me know.”

*   *   *

I was left with the feeling that Brody and I were in a fight. But Brody didn’t do the silent treatment. The day after our non-date at the Crab Lab, he chatted with me in all the classes we had together, same as always. In fact, we talked more than I talked with Kennedy. Brody showed me his purple finger without the splint and told me it wasn’t broken. Kennedy only bugged me about my deadline.

The only way I could tell there was tension between Brody and me was that in study hall, he offered me a fist-bump but didn’t call me his girlfriend, even though Kennedy had stayed behind in journalism class again. Brody said “Hey,” not “Hey, girlfriend,” and that was it.

I wasn’t in study hall very long. As soon as Ms. Patel came in, I asked her to excuse me so I could mark some Superlative photos off my to-do list. I’d called several people who had stood me up for previous photo sessions and told them to meet me in the courtyard—or else. And then, wonder of wonders . . . they showed up! Being stressed out to the point of rudeness might wreak havoc on my nerves, but it was great for locking down these photos.

Halfway through my study hall period, I hurried into Principal Chen’s office. After Sawyer’s comment last night about all the Superlatives photos being taken in the courtyard except mine with Brody, I’d decided I’d better switch things up for some of the others. We had Ms. Chen’s permission to use her office while she was at lunch. I could take an adorable picture of Kaye and Aidan, Most Likely to Succeed, behind Ms. Chen’s desk. I’d asked Sawyer to meet me there too. I wasn’t sure what we would do for his Most Likely to Go to Jail photo, but surely there was something in Ms. Chen’s office he could steal or tag with graffiti. Sawyer would think of something.

When I arrived, Aidan already sat in Ms. Chen’s chair. Kaye stood nearby with her arms folded. “Harper,” she called sharply when she saw me, “you didn’t say Aidan should sit behind the desk while I stand by, ready to assist him, right? That’s not the message I got.”

“No,” I said impatiently. I had only fifteen minutes to snap this photo and Sawyer’s, or I would have to reschedule them for tomorrow. And I couldn’t do that, because I was photographing other people then. “Look, just—”

They both shifted their gaze over my shoulder. A six-foot pelican sauntered in behind me. Sawyer was dressed in his mascot costume. His backpack was slung over a feathered shoulder, and in one bird hand he held a tattered copy of the book we were reading for Mr. Frank’s class, Crime and Punishment.

“Sawyer,” I complained. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He bobbed his big head.

The purpose of the photos was to capture the Superlatives as people, not hiding in a costume, especially when the costume included a foam bird head. But I was desperate to complete this mission, and I wasn’t going to let any of these three go while I had them. I didn’t dare send Sawyer to change. And I didn’t want him to strip, because underneath he probably had on nothing but underwear. Maybe not even that, knowing him.

I opened the blinds over the windows onto the courtyard. Sunlight flooded the office and glinted on the four-foot-tall sports trophies too big to be stuffed into cases in the lobby. Then I turned back to Kaye and Aidan. They were arguing again. “I’m the president of the student council,” Aidan told Kaye haughtily. “You’re the vice president.”

“We’re both Most Likely to Succeed,” Kaye said. “We’re equal.”

“Not true,” Aidan said. “The class selected us for that title because we’re in charge of the student council. And in student council, I’m above you.”

“I hope to God that’s the only place he’s above you,” came Sawyer’s muffled voice from the depths of the foam head.

We all looked at him. I’d thought it was his rule to stay silent while in costume.

I couldn’t let this session devolve into a three-way fight. The two-way fight was already bad enough. I told Aidan and Kaye, “Let’s take some shots with Aidan behind the desk, then with Kaye behind the desk, then—You know what? Let’s kill two birds with one stone—”