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This was exactly the kind of joke the Great, Ethereal Being liked to play on me to keep things interesting. I could picture it up there with dozens of other mystical figures from every religion in existence, watching this on a magical television in the clouds, laughing themselves silly at the bewildered look on my face.

After an eternity the bell rang. I knew Will didn’t want me to speak to him where people could see, but I did not give one crap. I headed straight over to him and put a hand on his desk. “What’s going on?” I asked.

He blinked innocently. “Oh, hey, Ollie. I forgot you took this class.”

“You didnot.”

Will grinned at me. Well, glad he found this so amusing. “The career counselor said I needed to ditch peer tutoring for a class with credit. I figured why not this? It’ll make me an all-rounder for college applications.”

I folded my arms, exasperated. “This class isn’t an easy ride, you know. Can you even name one music period?”

He shook his head, sliding his textbook into his bag. “I figured if I got confused, I had a friend who’s pretty good at music who could help.”

“Oh, really? Who is it? I assume it’s someone you can be seen with?” I said coolly.

Will took a second to reply. “That’s right. Speaking of, Darnell wants to sit with you guys in the cafeteria today. He’s totally into Niamh, have you noticed? Are you hanging here to practice, or are you eating?”

“I was gonna eat, today.” Actually, I’d been planning on practicing, but surely that’s what he’d been hoping to hear. And I didn’t want to give him that. I glared at him, silently daring him to ask me to skip lunch so he didn’t have to worry about me addressing him at the table.

“Awesome. Let’s head over together, then.” He stood up, ready to go.

I paused. I understood what he’d said, but I didn’t trust it. A wild, paranoid part of me even wondered if there was a hidden camera somewhere. Before I remembered this was real life. “Um…”

“What?”

What,he asked. Like he hadn’t been so terrified of being seen near me last week he’d shoved me into a mop bucket.

Sure. I’d play along. “Okay. Let’s go,” I said.

The whole time I expected him to make an excuse to leave. Or tell me he was only kidding. Or inexplicably produce a mop bucket from thin air and throw it in front of me to slow me down while he escaped.

But he didn’t. He just walked with me all the way to the cafeteria, talking about his family, and the basketball team, and my friends back home. No one accused us of being in love. No black holes materialized to tear apart the fabric of the universe. We didn’t even trigger a natural disaster.

What the hell had sparked this sudden change?

“Ollie, your phone made a noise,” Crista called out from the living room.

I was in the middle of making three mugs of hot chocolate in the kitchen a few days after Will’s sudden class transfer. More specifically, I was holding Dylan up to the counter so he could stir the powder into the milk. Aunt Linda and Uncle Roy had come home from the hospital earlier than we’d anticipated, right after I’d promised the kids some warm drinks. Uncle Roy offered to take me home, but I wasn’t in any particular rush. I’d gotten my homework done during a rousingPaw Patrolmarathon. So he dove straight into the shower. Probably his first in a few days, given how run off their feet he and Aunt Linda were.

“Can I try to read the message to you?” Crista continued when I didn’t respond.

Earlier that evening I’d been messaging Ryan about my new band, so I figured it was a reply from him. “Go ahead,” I called back.

“‘Hey… wanna sit… next… to me… tomorrow in… music? I p-prow… m-eyes’? ‘Prow-mies’? Mama, what does this word say?”

My life flashed before my eyes, and I detached Dylan from the hot chocolates with a jiggle so I could sprint into the living room, still holding him. “D-don’t, don’t read the rest, it’s okay, I’ll read it.”

Crista was already in the process of passing the phone to Aunt Linda, who sat stretched out on her recliner under a bright blue Snuggie. Aunt Linda raised an eyebrow mischievously and held out the phone. “And who’sthisfrom?” she asked.

“No one.” I jostled Dylan onto my hip and reached for my phone.

“Is it aboy?”

“Come on.”

“Please, Ollie, let me be the cool aunt,” Aunt Linda said. “You used to tell me everything. I want to gush.”

“No gushing.”