I really couldn’t have asked for a warmer welcome. When the girls’ track team marched in through the glass doors of the school entrance, at least half the senior class was crowded throughout the entrance and connecting hallways. People were clapping and whistling. Teachers were cheering from their classroom doors. I beamed up at Tommy, who was holding my hand.
“It’s all for you, baby,” he said over the commotion. And then he winked at me.
Which is when I remembered Laura Browning and her Facebook flirtation with my boyfriend. I looked up at Tommy uncertainly, but he didn’t notice my expression. Now that we’re out of the crowd and into more typical hallway traffic, I consider my words carefully.
I end up settling on, “So, since when are you friends with Laura Browning?”
“Laura Browning,” I repeat. We’ve reached Tommy’s locker and now he’s busy looking for his history book under a pile of papers.
“Oh, her. She’s in my calculus class. Why?”
I bite my lip, trying to figure out a way to say this that doesn’t make me look like a jealous mess.
“No reason. I just noticed you two were talking.”
Tommy gives me a blank look. “I don’t remember that.”
“On Facebook.”
“Oh, yeah—about homework.” Tommy gives me a funny look. “Seems like you know more about it than I do, though.”
I shrug. “Your convo popped up on my newsfeed this morning.”
“Uh-huh.”
He’s smirking at me, and I feel my cheeks coloring. “Anyway,” I say, trying to sound breezy, “I’ve got to run by the Student Activities office before class. Since I resigned my post as secretary, they talked me into running the graduation committee. I’ll see you at lunch?”
“Of course.”
I lean in to give him a kiss, and he pulls me in close.
“You know you’re the only girl for me, Marijke,” Tommy whispers in my ear. I smile against his neck. Those are the only words I ever want to hear.
Well, those words, plus three more little ones . . .
“All right, folks, move along please.” Ms. Jensen, my science teacher, is standing next to us with her arms crossed. Tommy shoots her a winning smile.
“Sorry, Ms. J. We were just saying good morning. I hope yours is lovely as well.”
In spite of herself, Ms. Jensen chuckles and shakes her head.
“Let’s just move along to class, Mr. Lawson. Okay?”
Tommy tips an imaginary hat to her and I just smile, looking down. Tommy’s a natural-born charmer—it’s in his genes or something. As my grandfather would say, “He could sell a bottle of ketchup to a lady in white gloves.”
“Have a good day, baby.”
Tommy grabs my hand and raises it to his mouth. He brushes a light kiss over my fingers.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.” Then he swings into his history class.
I walk down the hall, grinning with the knowledge that half a dozen girls are watching me with undisguised jealousy. Days like this make me think that my life is just about perfect—I’m going to states, I’ve got a hot boyfriend, and there’s still prom, graduation, and senior week to look forward to. Everything is coming up Marijke.