The Problem with Forever

Well, realizing that sucked.

Keira laughed. “Yeah, but neither of us threw up!” She clapped her hands together. “Yay, us!”

A smile broke out across my face.

“There were a couple of rough seconds where I thought it was going to happen,” she said, watching Rider as he swooped down and picked up my bag. “But I managed not to do it.”

“We all appreciated that,” Rider teased. He put my notebook in my bag.

“I bet,” she replied. “So what about your speech? I’m sure you’re just going to be awesome.”

“Something like that,” he said.

Standing, I reached for my bag. Our fingers brushed, the brief touch a strange jolt to my system, and I jerked my hand back. My gaze flew up to his and our eyes met. Pink infused his cheeks as he looked away, focusing on what appeared to be the monumental task of finding the perfect spot in my bag for my notebook to occupy. The skipping in my pulse turned into a hopping in my chest.

“So, yeah...” Keira murmured as she glanced at Rider. Grinning, she started to back away. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Rider gave a curt nod as he zipped up my bag.

I wiggled my fingers in her direction.

“You ready?” he asked.

Nodding again, I followed him toward the front of the classroom, but before we could walk out, Mr. Santos appeared.

“Rider,” he said, taking off his glasses. “You got a moment?”

He glanced at me and back to the teacher. “Yeah.”

Mr. Santos smiled in my direction as he placed his hand on Rider’s shoulder and led him to the center

of the chalkboard. Even though I was by the door and there was a lot going on out in the hallway, I could still hear them.

“You ready for your speech?” Mr. Santos asked.

“Of course,” he replied.

A look of doubt crossed the teacher’s face. “Are you sure about that?”

One side of Rider’s lips curled up, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ve given you a lot of passes in class. I know you get bored and you’d rather be using your hands, creating something, but I need you to take this class seriously.”

Rider didn’t respond, and I shifted where I stood, uncomfortable.

“You know I’m here if you need to talk,” Mr. Santos said, and the smirk slipped off Rider’s face. He stiffened. “Don’t throw your talent away. Okay?”

Rider didn’t reply and then he was dismissed. My gaze was glued to him. A muscle along his jaw worked as he walked over to me. Why would Rider need to talk to Santos? What did Mr. Santos know about Rider that I didn’t?

I knew the answer to that question without asking.

Everything.

We walked out into the crowded hall. “Is...is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yes.” He glanced down at me, features slightly relaxed. “Look at you.”

“Look at me?”