Page 51 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove
“Youcouldn’t have told me—”
“Not everything is about you!” Simran shouts, and TJ’s taken aback enough to stop talking. The cardplayers go quiet, too. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to give myself hope that it would happen! But you never consider that. No, obviously, it has to be aboutyouandyourproblems. We lose a debate, and it’s about you. I get into a music camp I’ve worked really hard for, and it’s about you. I get humiliated on the internet, and even thatis about you.”
TJ’s shocked into speaking again. “That’s not what I—”
“Do you think Ilikeleaving you with Charlie?” Simran pushes her glasses up in a rather violent motion. “I don’t. I wastrying to figure out some way to tell you. I even considered backing out of the music camp because I didn’t want to put you in that situation. But eventually I decided—just this once—to make something about me. Sorry it’s inconvenient.”
She slams the cashbox shut and stands. TJ reaches for her. “Simran, I—”
Simran brushes past her. Leaving TJ alone with a bunch of nosy cardplayers and the equally nosy French teacher, staring at her. She huffs and exits, but her cousin’s already somehow halfway down the hall. “Simran!” she yells, drawing stares from the horde of eighth graders loitering by the lockers, but she’s disappeared around the corner.
TJ takes several steps forward to follow before she realizes she doesn’t even know what to say.
Now that she thinks back, she can sort of see what Simran was talking about. TJ only ever came over to complain about stuff that was botheringher, after all. Has Simran always felt this way, and if so, why did TJ never notice?
She can’t process this right now. One thing at a time.
Dazed, TJ heads back to Mrs. Scott’s classroom instead.
Mrs. Scott looks up from where she’s sorting through the book boxes. “Well? Who’s going to Nationals?”
TJ hovers in the doorway and opens her mouth, then pauses. Shecouldgive the spot up to Nate. It’d raise some eyebrows, but she could probably convince most of the debate people that she’s more passionate about soccer.
But why should she? It’s not likeCharlie’sbacking out of the tournament, although he must know TJ’s next up after Simran.
She straightens her shoulders. If he’s not backing out,neither is she. There’s no way she’s giving him that power over her. “I am.”
Mrs. Scott nods, approval in her eyes. “You should text Charlie. We can set up some practices.”
She’s looking at TJ expectantly, like she’s waiting for her to do it right now. God, this is going to be humiliating. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of punishing her for being an ass to Simran. Giving her something she wants so badly—Nationals—except adding a nightmarish twist.
TJ sighs and pulls out her phone.
FOURTEEN
***
The following afternoon, TJ paces Mrs. Scott’s classroom, sweat slicking her palms. She glances at her phone for the umpteenth time to reread her chat with Charlie.
It’s only used on occasion, and always to fire off logistical questions during out-of-town tournaments when no one else is answering their phones. Stuff likewhere is everyone??Orwhat time are we meeting?There’s no correspondence at all since Provincials. At least, until TJ texted him yesterday:
Apparently I’m going to Nationals, not Simran. Meet tomorrow?
His answer was immediate:3:30 ok? Your school or mine?
He didn’t seem surprised. She’d bet her life he and Simran had already talked about it. But then why hadn’t Charlie reached out to her? Floundering and confused, TJ had to scrounge some control out of the situation.Mine.
She’d thought Mrs. Scott would be here to play referee when he arrived, but Mrs. Scott said she had a quick staff meeting after school, and that they should do some brainstorming for their topic while they waited for her. So here TJ is, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
That’s not to say she hadn’t prepared for this. She had. Yesterday afternoon, she’d started an email to Coach to tell him she’d be missing the last soccer tournament, but thenimagined him blowing a gasket and decided it could wait. Instead she made a list of possible contentions for the resolution and rehearsed what she was going to say to Charlie. She has a game plan, but this isCharlie. He specializes in tripping her up.
The door opens. TJ freezes midstride like Bigfoot caught on camera.
Charlie steps through, bag slung over his shoulder, and closes it behind him. There’s a second of silence.
She takes him in. His face is unreadable, his hair in its impeccable side part, and he wears his customary button-down and a pair of fitted chinos—no tie, but he still looks very put together.
She remembers pulling on his tie while they kissed. He wasn’t so put together then. She zeroes in on the hollow of his throat, where the knot would theoretically sit. Right now, he’s left that button undone, so she has just the barest peek at his collarbone.