The Problem with Forever

Now Rider missed school whenever he wanted.

Now Rider had a girlfriend.

Rider was invited to parties.

Me? I was the way I’d been before and would be forever.

I would never miss school.

I didn’t have a boyfriend.

I didn’t go to parties, and with the exception of Ainsley’s sweet sixteen last year, I wasn’t invited to them.

“Not sure,” Rider responded. “I have to head in to the garage. Might be there most of the night.”

The garage? I wanted to ask about that, but figured this was not the time to step out of my shell and speak up.

Paige’s smile froze. “I was really looking forward to going.”

“Go,” he urged, and he smiled at her. I couldn’t see it, but I knew the right dimple was there. “If I can get out in time, I’ll meet you there. Okay?”

Paige was still for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.” Reaching over, she folded a hand around the nape of his neck. “I’m going to miss you, though.”

I really needed to look away.

“Are you?” Warm amusement colored Rider’s tone.

I didn’t look away.

Paige’s fingers tightened and... Was he leaning toward her? I looked away...for about five seconds before my gaze shot back to them. He was sitting straight, and all of Paige’s body parts were in her chair.

A second passed and Rider looked over, catching me watching them and totally up in their conversation. His smile went deeper, and now I saw the dimple. Lowering my gaze, I refocused on my own desk...and my own business.

Mr. Santos appeared at the front of the class like there had been a trapdoor in the ceiling he’d fallen out of. That took talent. “All right, kiddos. We’re going to start class off with a little exercise.” He clapped his hands together, startling the boy in the front of the room that had already drifted off to sleep. “When it comes to public speaking, practice is key. The more you do it, the easier it gets. Trust me.”

A tingling started in my fingers as I straightened.

“When I was your age—”

“A century ago,” someone muttered.

Santos shot the kid a droll look. “Cute. Anyway, when I was your age a few decades ago, the thought of talking in front of a bunch of people made me want to vomit.”

“Yikes,” murmured a girl.

There was a good chance I was going to hurl, myself.

“So it was something I had to work at. We all do. That means we’re going to kick off with a quick introduction.”

“Oh, shit,” Rider muttered under his breath.

Santos continued, oblivious to the fact that I was staring at him with my eyes peeled so wide it was like I no longer had eyelids. “Each of you will stand up, face the class, give us your name and tell us one thing you like—keep it classy, folks—and one thing you don’t like. Again, PG rated.”

Laughter followed, but the blood was draining from my head so fast I felt dizzy. No. I had weeks to prepare for this. Talking in front of the class was not supposed to happen today or tomorrow or next week.

“Mallory.” Rider called my name in a whisper.

My hands gripped the edge of the desk as my pulse did its own version of house music. My throat was tightening up as my eyes swung in his direction. Hector’s and Paige’s faces were a blur. A chair scratched across the floor and my gaze followed the sound.