Page 107 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

“Very emotional. I said goodbye to the entire council and thanked them for everything. Somehow I forgot Brandon Fletcher on my list, though.”

She cracks a grin. “How careless. Was he mad about it?”

“I think he was more mad when he was selected for a locker search and my old phone was found inside.”

Of course. “That’s an unprecedented abuse of power. How’d you manage it?”

“It had nothing to do with me. Apparently there was a complaint about the smell of a certain illicit substance emanating from his locker.” He blinks innocently. Right. “Are you planning to explain why you’re here?”

She gulps. Straight to the point. To buy herself time, she kicks off her shoes. “Um...”

She trails off pathetically. Charlie takes this in stride. “Want something to drink?” He moves through the living room towards the kitchen, almost businesslike, like he’s hosting her.

That’s what gets her moving. No. She doesn’t want that—for him to treat her like everyone else.

She catches him by the arm in the middle of the living room. The words fly from her mouth without a filter. “Charlie, I wanted to kiss you.”

She says it to his back. He goes very still. Recklessly, she plunges on. If his reaction hurts, if it’s humiliating, well, maybe that finally makes them even. “I wanted to kiss you every single time. At Provincials, and on deck, and below deck. It was never just about getting back at Liam or getting over him. It was aboutyou.”

He still doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. She steps closer. “Do you still feel the same way?”

He wrenches his arm out of her grasp. “I don’t know. Why don’t you just tell me how I feel? That seems to be your favour-ite pastime.” His voice is cutting, harsh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Narrowing her eyes, she moves around him to see his expression.

But he backs away from her swiftly, putting a couch between them. “Don’t come any closer. I—I—I—I can’t think,” he snaps when she moves to follow, and she stops, confused and hurt. “You know exactly what I meant. We’ve been through these motions more than once. I tell you I like you and you tell me I couldn’t possibly feel that way. We kiss and then you tell me togo take a hike. And now here you are again.Make up your mind.”

“Charlie, I—” She gapes. “I’m sorry. Back then, I couldn’t understand why you would like me when I look the way I do. And I know—Iknow—I am so much more than the way I look,” she adds when he opens his mouth. “I know I’m brave, and decent at debating, and that I have a killer penalty kick. I know those things matter more. But in the dating game, it feels like nothing matters if you’re not pretty, too.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Did I ever give you that impression?”

“No!” Her vision blurs with tears. “But I’ve been burned be-fore, and I couldn’t be sure. But now I think I can be. I trust you.”

It’s the biggest leap of faith, to not question his feelings, to let him in. But it feels like the right one, after everything.

Charlie still doesn’t move. There’s something in his expression—he’s not completely convinced. She takes a deep breath. “Remember that theory you had about me? You never did tell me what it was.”

He doesn’t speak.

Maybe he doesn’t remember. “It was that night after—”

“I know what night.” His voice is low. “I think it went back to being a hypothesis, after everything.”

“No.” She holds his gaze. “I promise you, it’s still a theory.”

Her words are followed by a long pause. Then:

“Enough of all the technical definitions.” He sets his jaw. “Let’s just call it a debate resolution. ‘This House Believes That TJ Powar likes Charlie Rosencrantz.’ ”

He says it strongly, just like any Side Proposition speaker would. But there’s an undercurrent to it, somethingvulnerable she sees in his expression.

She smiles to encourage him, and presses one knee into the couch cushion, drawing closer. He doesn’t move away this time. “As Side Proposition, you need to provide some definitions.”

His eyes are nearly black. “We define the terms as follows. ‘TJ Powar’ is the girl in question, who seems to think my attraction to her is inversely proportional to the amount of hair on her body.”

Her smile becomes a scowl. “You little—”

“We define ‘likes’ as...likelike.”