Woke Up Like This(33)

His lips curve, teasing. “Well, you get to enjoy them all to yourself. I actually need the hour to prep for my health class after lunch.”

I raise a brow. This is very unlike Renner. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him crack open a book. And somehow, he still manages to pull off decent grades.

“It’s the STI unit,” he clarifies.

“You’re teaching sex ed today?” I can barely contain my giggle. I’d give my left arm to sit in on Renner’s sex ed class.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, very funny. I’m petrified, I’ll have you know.”

I snort. “Do they still have the sex ed treasure chest?”



“Oh yeah. It’s in my office. It was the first thing I saw when I walked in. It’s filled to the brim with condoms. And some dental dams,” he adds matter-of-factly. “I’m in over my head.”

I pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. For a flash, I think about offering to look over his lesson plan, until I remember we do not have that kind of relationship. We don’t help each other. We’re enemies, after all. So I settle for, “You’ll do just fine.”

He cringes. “But what if they have . . . questions?”

“Well, luckily you have a lot of experience,” I point out. As rumor has it, Renner lost his V-card in tenth grade to an eleventh grader named Harley at a tent party. Since then, he’s practically made his way through the female population of our class, as well as the class below. Not that I care.

He gives me a look. “Are you slut shaming me?”

“Not at all. It’s simply a fact.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “Okay, can we not talk about my sex life? I’m freaking out. I’m not qualified to teach shit. This feels illegal.”

“More illegal than giving a student advice on their educational future? Probably not. Let’s just get through the day without drawing suspicion. Do you have a lesson plan?”

“Yeah. It’s in a binder. I’m really into consent and protection, I guess, because I wrote pages’ worth of notes,” he adds.

“Just read straight from your lesson plan. They won’t even notice.”

“If only it were that easy . . .”

“Best of luck, Renner. Remember, the sexual health of the next generation rests on your shoulders!” I call back at him before exiting the gym.





FOURTEEN



Renner is like a golden retriever who magically turned human. On our drive to Ollie’s, he has his arm out the window, belting all the wrong lyrics to a Glass Animals song (on a 2020s station).

We were never supposed to go to Ollie’s. But the gym was occupied all day with students setting up for prom, leaving little privacy for our attempt at time travel. We plan to come back tonight after Ollie’s, when all the staff and students are gone.

I flash him a dirty look when he sings, “Sometimes all I do is love youuu,” instead of the correct lyrics, though it does nothing to dim his mood.

He’s still high from his sex ed class, which was a smashing success. In fact, he proudly declared it a “slam dunk” when he picked me up in the guidance office.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. Renner has the uncanny ability to pull everything off regardless of how much effort he puts in. Every time a big test or exam rolls around, I spend every waking hour studying, and he takes pleasure in “winging it.” Just like his student council speech.

“I think I got through to them, you know? They seemed like they really wanted to learn,” he says for the fourth time in the last three blocks. “Maybe teaching really is what I was meant to do.”

“Guess you’ve found your calling,” I say, cringing at the thought of Renner demonstrating how to place a condom on a banana. At the same time, I’m glad he’s in better spirits after his parents’ divorce news. I could tell that was a real blow.

“Hey, it’s a noble one at least,” he points out as we pull onto Ollie’s crowded street. My heart drops at the sight of his packed driveway and the cars lining up on either side of the road. I’d assumed this was an intimate gathering, despite what Nori said, but it appears she wasn’t exaggerating. Ollie invited the entire town.

What used to be a neighborhood full of eighties homes has undergone a makeover. Most of the old houses have been replaced with minimalist, boxy white and gray exteriors. Ollie’s place is no exception.

Renner stares through the windshield in awe. “Holy crap. Ollie’s rich.”

Before I can respond, Renner bolts from the car and starts up the driveway, clearly eager for a reunion with his best friend.

I groan and sprint after him. Just before he unlocks the gate, I yank him back by his veiny forearm. “Wait, wait, wait. We need to talk.”

“About what?” He shoots me a quizzical look, eyes flickering to my grip on his arm. His excitement literally radiates through his veins. He’s a quintessential extrovert, and the prospect of entering a party gives him life.

I drop his arm. “About how we’re going to act?” I shouldn’t have to pose this like a question. A question he should certainly have considered by this point.

He slowly blinks. “I’m not following.”

I take a step closer, close enough to envy the density of his lash line. “Renner, we’re supposedly engaged. Don’t you think we should figure out how to act like a couple? We can’t just avoid each other at our own party.” I hate myself for saying it, but it’s true. If we’re going to carry on as normal, like Nori suggested, we can’t change our behavior too drastically.