Queen Move
His head snaps up and there’s fire in his glare. “What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see I’m—”
“She was dancing with you. You disappeared. Now you’re back and she isn’t, so where is she?”
His scowl slides into a knowing smirk. “You into her, Stern?”
I don’t respond, but the mocking gleam in his eye lights a fire under my collar.
“You’re such a jerk, Jeremy,” Clarissa says, turning her head to look at me. “She was in the girls’ bathroom a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks.” I jog off the dance floor and out into the corridor toward the bathrooms. It’s empty, with only an overhead fluorescent panel shining light. I stop in front of the girls’ restroom.
“Is this really what you’re about to do, Stern?” I mutter to the empty hallway.
Yes. Yes, it is.
I ease the door open just a crack.
“Tru,” I shout-whisper. “You in here?”
The acoustics in the cavernous bathroom wrap my words in echo. This is stupid and some girl will walk out half-dressed any minute and report me to a chaperone.
“Kimba, are you—”
“Ezra, yes. Dang it. What do you want?”
My shoulders sag and the tight coil in my stomach loosens a little. I ease the door open a few more inches, poking my head in to see if anyone else is visible. It’s empty and before I can talk myself out of it, I speed-walk in, zipping past all the stalls until I see Kimba’s red flats. I tap on the door.
“You okay?”
“You can’t be in here. It’s the girls’ bathroom. Geez. Get out.”
“I know. I will. Just…are you okay?” I hesitate. “Did he…did Jeremy hurt you or something?”
Because if he did, I don’t care if he’s six feet taller than I am, I’ll find a way to crush him.
“No. Um, no. He didn’t hurt me.” Her laugh drifts under the stall door. “I probably hurt him.”
I lean against the door, wanting to be closer, even though I hear her just fine. “How?”
“He tried to kiss me and I bit his lip.”
A huge grin stretches over my face. It’s a relief that she isn’t hurt, but also a relief that she didn’t want to kiss him. Or maybe she did? I don’t understand.
“Why’d you bite him?”
After a moment, the handicapped stall door opens. Kimba doesn’t come out, but stays in place. She doesn’t look hurt, or like her dress is ripped or any of the awful things I imagined. I hesitate, then step inside and lock the stall door behind me.
“You sure you’re okay?” I ask. “When Jeremy came back by himself, I thought—”
“Told you I’m fine.” She leans against the wall and looks down at the floor, shrugging. “I just realized I didn’t want to kiss him.”
I press my lips together to fight the smile that wants to break out all over my body. “Oh. Okay.”
“Did you kiss Hannah?” she asks, her voice soft, her eyes still fixed on her shoes.
“Hannah? No. I didn’t want to.”
“You didn’t? I thought…never mind.”