I snort. “No shortage of confidence over there.”
“Hey, nothing wrong with confidence.” Renner’s eyes sparkle with interest, as they always do when someone pads his ego. “I’d be into Andie. She’s pretty hot.”
Kassie squeals, delighted that she’s made at least one suitable match. “Oh my god. You two would have beautiful babies.”
I’m overcome by a heaving gag, triggered by the thought of Renner in action, no matter how many abs he has （six, but who’s counting?）。 The scent of someone’s microwaved fish lunch a few tables over isn’t helping.
And that’s when I spot Clay exiting the cafeteria. In a rare turn of events, he’s alone, not surrounded by all his supersmart friends. Maybe this is my chance.
Besides, Kassie’s right. I’ve nursed this pathetic crush on Clay for all of high school and I’ve done absolutely nothing about it, which is so unlike me. I’m a go-getter. I make things happen, headfirst, elbows out. I can prompose to a guy my damn self. Screw the bucket list.
I stand up and follow him out.
FIVE
Clay is nowhere to be seen by the time I amble out of the cafeteria, baby toes pinched in my prom heels.
Nori thought it would be a good idea to “break them in.” But I’m about ready to toss them in the trash. So much for “orthopedist approved.” I’m convinced high heels are the devil’s footwear.
The rainbow smattering of freshly painted bricks catches my eye as I limp to my locker to get my books for next period, defeated. It’s tradition that each graduating student paints one brick with their name, immortalizing themself on the MHS walls. I’ve already reserved mine next to Kassie’s and Ollie’s joint brick, though I haven’t started painting yet—mostly because putting brush to wall feels so final.
I still remember walking these halls for the first time. Kassie and I busted through the doors giggling, arms linked, ready to take on the world. We were buzzing with anticipation, swapping gossip about all the kids from other feeder middle schools.
Of course, my confidence was a facade, unlike Kassie’s. Truthfully, my gut was more twisted than a plate of lo mein noodles when we entered the noisy gymnasium for the freshman welcome assembly. Kassie gripped my wrist and whispered, “Straighten your posture and smile.” I followed close behind as she led us up the bleachers, past a sea of anxious faces. I’d pulled us left when I spotted an empty row, but she yanked me to the right, conveniently smack-dab in front of Ollie and Renner.
I was envious of Kassie’s ability to waltz up to the dude she’d made out with days before like it was no big deal. Turns out, the smile wasn’t for Renner. She’d zeroed right in on Ollie.
Renner flashed me a megawatt smile that nearly sent me sideways off the bleachers and said, “I’m J. T.” Just as I went to shake his hand, Kassie flashed me a warning look, reminding me not be one of those “basic girls” who falls for his cult-leader charisma.
In return, I smiled shyly and turned away, just in case Kassie still liked him. She had him first, after all.
I veer left into a relatively empty hallway, and a pair of heavy, Paul Bunyan–style footsteps gain on me. Renner. He narrows his gaze as he passes like one of those professional speed walkers. He has one goal, as do I: to get to our locker first.
Unlike the beautiful, shiny, full-length lockers in the movies, Maplewood High lockers are those obnoxious half-size stacked ones, one on top, one on the bottom. And because life has it out for me, mine is directly below Renner’s. We can’t comfortably be at our lockers at the same time without my head winding up somewhere near his crotch.
Every day it’s a mad dash to see who will claim the territory first. I’ve beaten him about 70 percent of the time, not that I’m counting or anything.
I channel Emily in Paris charging through cobblestone streets in her four-inch stilettos, even though I look more like a severely injured crab missing a leg.
Triumphantly, Renner arrives first. At nearly a foot taller, he has an unfair advantage.
“By the way,” he starts, stance wide as he takes his sweet time with his combination. “I’m planning on going to the party rental store after school to grab the prom decor. Wanna come with?” It’s tradition that student council decorates in the mornings so we get to participate in Senior Week fun.
I slow blink. “Why are you inviting me? Shouldn’t the president have it under control?”
“I do. I was supposed to go with Ollie but he bailed like usual. Like Kassie does with you,” he says knowingly.