The Problem with Forever

“You did.”

Our gazes connected and the look on his face was soft. The swelling motion was back, and this time I let it lift me to the ceiling.

I’d done something I never thought I could do.

Chapter 19

“Want to grab something real quick to eat?” Rider offered as we walked down the hall, away from speech. “You have time.”

My stomach was still in knots, but since the speech was done, I knew I could eat a slice of pizza. I nodded.

“Awesome.”

We headed toward the cafeteria and the closer we got, the more I realized that the hum of conversation and laughter wasn’t as harsh to my ears as it had been the first week. Today there was something welcoming about the noise and the scent of unidentifiable food. My steps felt lighter. I was—

“Mr. Stark,” said a deep voice. “Why am I not surprised to see you in the hallway when I am ninety-nine percent confident you’re supposed to be in class right now?”

I stopped and turned. Rider did the same. Principal Washington stood by an open door with his arms across his chest. Light glinted off his smooth, bald head.

Uh-oh.

“You’re not a hundred percent sure?” Rider replied, much to my surprise. “Don’t you think you should always be a hundred percent sure?”

Principal Washington smiled. “Clever, Mr. Stark. It’s a shame you don’t take that quick wit and apply it to your studies, but that would be expecting too much, wouldn’t it?”

A muscle thrummed along Rider’s jaw. “I guess so.”

The forced smile faded. “Get to your class, Mr. Stark.”

For a moment I didn’t think Rider was going to leave. He eyed the principal, a challenging smirk on his lips. Then, after a stuttered heartbeat, he stepped back and to the side. “I’ll see you later, Mouse.”

“Hopefully not in the hall when you’re supposed to be in class,” Principal Washington interjected.

Rider laughed under his breath as he pivoted around. “I don’t know, man. That might be expecting too much.”

The principal’s large chest rose with a deep, patience-seeking breath and then he looked at me. He squinted. “That’s not the kind of boy you want to be spending your time with,” he advised, and I flinched at the wild assumption. I didn’t even think he knew who I was, even if Carl and Rosa had spoken to him. “The path that boy’s heading down is not one you want to be along for the ride on. You’d better be on the way to wherever you’re supposed to be.”

Before I could respond, Principal Washington was off, stalking down the hall and toward the offices. The happy buzz from completing my speech faded as I replayed the principal’s words and tone, the way he’d treated Rider, in my head.

No expectation.

No respect.

* * *

Keira gave her speech in class without any projectile body fluid, so the good feels returned and the run-in at lunch felt like forever ago. I was even happy for Paige when she strutted up to the front of the class and delivered her speech on the first five presidents of the United States.

She was back to herself. Sort of. Gone were the baggy sweats and messy ponytail. She was back in skintight blue jeans and sweater, and her hair was sleek and straight. She’d been ignoring me the last couple of days, so I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t look in my direction when she took her seat.

There hadn’t been a lot of brain space lately to think about where Paige and Rider were, but I did notice that there wasn’t any touching or kissing. They spoke. They smiled at one another. Well, Paige smiled at him and I couldn’t see his response, but that was the extent of it.

When the bell rang, I heard Paige ask Rider to call her and then she left the class as Keira walked up to my desk. “How did you do at lunch? No hurling?”

“Good...I guess. No hurling.” I paused as my right hand squeezed tight against my thigh. “You did awesome.”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “God, I am so glad to be done with it.”

Rider stood and reached over to my desk, picking up my notebook and paper as he rose a brow. “One speech down. Only a billion more to go.”