Page 22

“Uh, actually, maybe I do have something going on with my ears today. Like the beginning of an ear infection?” The words keep coming, although I’m not sure what I’m saying. “I’ve heard it can affect your balance—you know, something with inner ear fluid?”

Inner ear fluid?All sense fell out of my brain when I tripped over my bag.

He lifts his hands to my shoulders, as if to keep me fromtipping over. “That sounds serious. I’ll help you to your door, but you should call the doctor when you get inside. Or I could call my mom? She’s a nurse.”

If we keep talking, I’m going to find myself in urgent care. I glance behind me, grab my bag, and take a step back.

“I’m okay, really. I’m already feeling better.” I wave him off and start toward the sidewalk to the front door.

“You’re sure?”

“I only bruised my ego.”

He considers me, then nods. “Yeah, okay. But call the doctor before it gets worse.”

He returns to his truck and pulls away, leaving me on the front step with a racing heart, confused thoughts, and dubious inner ear fluid.

Chapter Nine

I’m not thrilled about the possibility of more embarrassment, especially after my last conversation with Logan, but I agree to have Grandma pick me up from school on Monday.

“Are you sure it’s safe for her to be driving?” I asked at the dinner table the night before. Andrew was at a late practice, so it was just Mom, Dad, and me. “I was worried she might plow over a freshman the last time she dropped me off.”

“She’ll be driving twenty miles an hour around town,” Mom replied. “She’ll be okay for that distance.”

“You don’t understand how much it means to her. It’ll make her whole day,” Dad added.

“And you don’t understand how embarrassing it is when she leans out the window and yells at random kids.”

He chuckles. “True. Could you just let her pick you up every once in a while?”

And here we are. I climb into Grandma’s car, which smells like her floral perfume, and she smiles over at me.

“How’s it going? You look tired.”

“It’s going,” I reply.

I don’t exactly want to burden her with my problems, but I’m exhausted and stressed. Switching schools in the middle of the year is hard. None of the classes match exactly with my old ones, so I’m either behind or have already covered the same material. This is week two here, but I still feel disoriented in the school and classrooms—I keep expecting to turn the corner and be back at my old building—and I severely underestimated how difficult it would be to connect with people in my classes. No one is rude or anything; they’re just…apathetic. Their eyes seem to pass right through me like I’m not even there. Thank god for Kashvi, Sloane, and the D&D game, though I wish my class schedule lined up better with theirs. I don’t even have the same lunch as them.

Grandma purses her lips and takes me in. “Today is an ice cream day.”

“What? It’s forty-five degrees out.”

“As if temperature has anything to do with it. Some days call for ice cream and this is one of them.” She puts the car in reverse before I even have my seat belt buckled and then we’re flying out of the parking lot. So much for twenty miles per hour.

Soon she’s pulling into a local shop I’ve never been to before. I don’t know my way around the town yet. The inside is super cute with a teal-and-white-checkered floor, pink walls, and a mural of ice cream scoop mountains and strawberry syrup rivers.

“What’s your favorite flavor?” she asks.

“Peach,” I say immediately. “But that’s out of season. So…probably Buckeye.”

“Just like your father,” she says. “The boy never knew a jar of peanut butter he didn’t like.”

“What about you?” I glance toward the menu above the counter. Instead, my gaze falls directly on Logan.

I jolt as if the floor were electrified. He’s standing behind the counter, wearing a pink polo shirt and a pink visor with ice cream cones embroidered on both. And his name tag reads:Logan. My favorite flavor is mint chocolate chip!

He stares back at me until Grandma exclaims, “The boy who took our picture!”