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My eyebrows popped up. “Oh, really? When did you finallykiss?”

“Wouldn’t this be the time you leave the listeners wanting more?”

“Are you trying to steal my job?” I asked.

“Never.” She slid the headphones off and set them on the desk.Her eyes seemed distant tonight. Far away. Maybe even a bit sad. “I love you, baby girl. Thanks for that walk down memory lane.”

I stood and gave her a hug. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”

When she pulled the door shut, I relistened to the episode.

“He thought a real artist was trained and had the right supplies and a specific amount of experience and was recognized by others,” my grandma’s voice said over the speakers.

My stomach churned. It wasn’t the same. Unlike Andrew, I’d already put myself out there. I wasn’t picked for the school podcast. And the past podcast episodes I had published were still sitting there, not listened to, proof that I was obviously doing something wrong. The publish button stared back at me as my grandma’s words continued over the speaker: “Wouldn’t this be the time to leave your listeners wanting more?”

I sighed. At the very least, my friends wanted to listen to it. I could give them that. So after a thorough edit, I pushed publish.

Chapter

eighteen

AS I WALKED THROUGH THEparking lot at school Friday morning, a sea of pastels greeted me—pink potted flowers and light green balloons and lavender bouquets. It took me approximately fifteen strides to remember it was Bring on Spring. Every year, on the first day of spring, the student council sold flowers and candy and balloons to raise money for prom.

Last year, Jensen had bought me two dozen pink roses. I received four in every period, each with a handwritten note. I’d saved those notes, I remembered. Where were they now? Somewhere in some box in my closet or under my bed. Today seemed like a good day to destroy them. I never did get to burn his things at the party a week ago. He’d somehow walked away from that night in possession of all of them.

“Hey,” Theo said, suddenly at my side. “Thoughts on the first day of spring?”

“I was just thinking that it felt like a good day to burn things.”

He smiled. “Not a fan of flowers?”

“What about you?”

“I have received gifts every year. I’m hoping to get a few thisyear.”

“You have?” I asked. “From who?” I had no idea what Theo’s dating history was. As far as I knew, he hadn’t had a girlfriend. At least not one that went to our school. But there were often girls hanging out with their group, so maybe I was wrong.

“From my many admirers. Be honest, are you sending me one this year?”

“Absolutely not.”

“As your coach, I thought you would be more grateful. I see where I rank.”

“I’m not burning any of your stuff, so you’re not at the very bottom.”

I stepped to the side of the hall, pulling him with me and turned to face him. “Be honest—am I wasting my time? And yours?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. Are you talking right now? If so, the answer is yes, a little. Or are you referring to the upcoming weekend activities?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I said.

He went quiet for a moment, as though taking my question to heart. So I believed him when he met my eyes again and in a sincere voice said, “It’s only been a week. Technically only two days of training. But I would’ve never agreed to this in the first place if you didn’t already have a natural ability. Muscle memory from your years of soccer, I’m guessing. And on top of that you’re picking upthe technique fast, Finley. You’re driving the ball straight. That’s a good sign. Do you want to add more practices?”

“More?” I already thought I was asking too much of him.

“I have time today, if you want.”

As though someone couldn’t wait a second longer, a small potted succulent was suddenly shoved between us. We both looked down. I reached for it without thinking, when the girl who held it said, “Theo, happy spring.”