Chapter 1

  *Love Interest*

  Marjorie Madden can never find out I’m in love with her. There are so many reasons, one of the big ones being that I’m not out. Of course Marjorie is. She has that confidence that makes you unsure whether you want to be her or be with her. The confidence that sometimes makes you want to slap her but also makes you want to kiss her. Right now, it’s all the latter for me, as I watch her lips move while she speaks to me. Shit. I hope she didn’t notice. I force my eyes away from those lips as she continues to speak.

  I look up just in time to see her toss her perfectly straight, long blonde hair behind her back and laugh at something she just said. Was it a joke? Who knows. Certainly not me. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

  And just like that, she’s walking away from me. I can’t tear my eyes off her backside as she sashays away. Marjorie Madden knows she’s popular. She knows everyone wants her. She would never speak that out loud though, because that’s not the kind of person she is. She’s not like other high school students who become popular by being cutthroat. She didn’t become popular because people felt threatened by her. She’s popular because she’s so nice. So fucking nice. Almost to the point that it’s infuriating. Is someone really that nice? I’ve always wanted to believe the best in people, but I can’t help but think most things people do are to benefit themselves, even if what they’re doing appears nice. I wish I didn’t believe that, but years of experience have taught me otherwise. Sure, I’m only a teenager, but I’ve seen enough shit to show me the world can be pretty crappy.

  I sigh out loud. I hate when I get in my own head like this. My mom calls me a pessimistic optimist. I want to see the best in people. I want to believe the best about the world, but I can’t. I’m a realist stuck in a dreamer’s body.

  My mind drifts to Marjorie as I drive home. The way she laughs—so loud and bold. The smile that never leaves her face. Her overall zest for life. I can’t help but wonder if she’s truly as happy as she always seems to be. I hope she is. I hate the thought of her ever being sad. God, I’m pathetic.

  When I get home, I lock myself in my room and begin to write. After spending time with Marjorie, the words flow easily from my pen to the paper.

  Do you know how beautiful you are? Do you know that the way your eyes shine brings a light to my life that I didn’t know before I met you? I bet you don’t. How could you?

  I’m gay. Not many people know that about me, and I don’t dare tell anyone else. You don’t have that same reservation though. You are so unapologetically yourself that it makes me want to be the same way. I’m not brave like you though. I’m not sure I ever will be.

  I want you to know how amazing you are. I know you hear that all the time, but I want you to hear it from someone who wants absolutely nothing in return, except to see a smile on your face. Too often, we wonder if people mean the words they say to us. At least, I do. If you are like me and you wonder this too, know that my words are true. Writing these words to you does nothing for me. I’m not even brave enough to sign my name. I’ll probably never even be brave enough to give this to you. It will remain locked away just like all of the feelings I have for you.

  I promise I’m not crazy. I’m just a girl who admires so much about you. A girl who dreams about a life where I have enough courage to be like you. Having enough courage to ever speak these words out loud to you is something that could only happen in another world, galaxies away. But just know, because of you, I wake up with a smile on my face. I look forward to the moments I get to see you and cherish the time I spend with you. There’s a light in you that makes this world a better place. Please don’t ever lose that.

  I rip the note from my notebook, fold it as if I’m actually going to hand it off, then shove it into the pocket of my pants. When I change for bed, I move the note into the pocket of my pajama pants. For some reason when I wake the next day, I do the same, transferring it from my pajamas to the jean shorts I’m wearing to school. It burns a hole in my pocket throughout the day. When I see Marjorie and talk to her, it seems to burn even hotter. It sits there, tempting me. Screaming for me to let the words be free.

  When I get home later that night, my mom is in the kitchen making us a late dinner. “Hi, sweetheart,” she shouts, not turning away from the food on the stove as I sling myself into one of the kitchen chairs.

  It’s just my mom and me. My dad is one of the shitty things that I learned about this world at much too young of an age. He was around for the first five years of my life, but barely. I, along with my mom, thought that was because of his busy work schedule, but we later found out it was because he was having an affair. An affair that eventually led to a pregnancy that led to him leaving us. Apparently, a younger woman and a son were much more appealing than a woman his age and a daughter. Last I heard, he had two more kids, both boys, but I only know that because I live in a small town surrounded by even smaller towns, and he’s only fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes, yet he still hasn’t talked to his only daughter in almost ten years. Whatever.

  Just thinking about my dad causes my anxiety to rise, so I chew on my nails, a habit that started not long after he left. My mom notices and comes over to slap my hand away from my mouth. “Stop that,” she scolds, but the smile on her face tells me she isn’t actually mad.

  Since my hand is no longer occupied, I move it to my pocket to make sure the note is still there. I let out a breath when I feel it.

  My mom watches me and lifts an eyebrow knowingly. “You know, you could just tell her.”

  My mom knows I’m gay, which makes sense, since I share everything with her. She also knows about my crush on Marjorie and the notes that I write her that I wouldn’t dare actually give her. The only other person who knows is my friend, Bug. That’s not his actual name, but it’s what I’ve called him from the time we met when we were little. Bug goes to a different school so we don’t have any of the same friends anyway.

  I shake my head in response to my mom’s suggestion. “Absolutely not.”

  My mom crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down in a way that only a mom can. “And why not?”

  I roll my eyes because we’ve been through this. “You know why not.”

  “I know the excuses you’ve given me, but none of them make any sense.”

  I shrug. “You have to say that. You’re my mom.”

  As she turns around to continue making dinner, a part of me wonders if she’s right. Not that I have the guts to ever actually tell Marjorie how I feel, but I wonder if I should give her the note. Not directly. Just the thought of that makes me want to throw up. But, I could always sneak it to her. She deserves to know how special she is, even if the person who sees her that way is too much of a coward to do anything about it. I touch the note in my pocket one more time. We’ll see.

  Chapter 2

  Marjorie

  “Mar! Wait up!”

  I turn around to see my best friend, Lydia, running after me. When she catches up, she’s taking big, heaving breaths. Knowing Lydia, that run down the hall was probably the most she’s run in weeks. Even though we resemble each other with our blonde hair and tall, skinny builds, that’s where the similarities end. I love Lydia, but the girl doesn’t have an athletic bone in her body (and wouldn’t use them if she did). She’s never missed a home basketball game since I started playing in middle school though. She has no idea what’s happening, but she still sits in the stands, cheering me on.

  “Are you going to the soccer game tonight?” she asks as she walks beside me.

  “Guys or girls?”

  I ask the question even though I already know the answer. Lydia laughs as though I’m crazy. “Guys, obviously. I’ve been single way too long. I need to scope out my next target.”

  I roll my eyes at Lydia. Her definition of way too long is much different than mine. She broke up with her summer fling a few weeks before school started, and we hadn’t even been back for a month. “Maybe I want to scope out my next target.”

  Lydia stares at me for a long time, and I wonder what could possibly be going through her mind. Normally, I know exactly what she’s thinking, but right now, I’m unsure. She tilts her head slightly as a smile comes to her face. “Since when were you looking for a girlfriend? I thought your focus was on basketball and basketball only.”

  Lydia knows me way too well, because she’s exactly right. I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now. At the end of the last basketball season, I finally started to see some time on the varsity team. Now that I’m a junior and four out of the five starters from last year graduated, I’m pretty sure I have a good chance of starting this year. I just need to put all my attention on basketball. Hence, why I’m not looking. “Okay. You’re right,” I conceded, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view.”

  Always one to be super touchy, Lydia loops her arm through mine as we continue through the hall. “Fine. We can go to the girl’s game, but don’t blame me when I’m up your ass because I’m bored and don’t have a guy to entertain me.”

  How sweet. “I’m just messing with you. I can’t go to any games tonight. I work.”

  Lydia groans and drops my arm. “You work all the time.”

  “I have to. Once basketball starts, I can barely work at all. Gotta make the money now.” I’ve explained this to Lydia multiple times, but she can’t seem to get it through her head.

  Lydia pushes her lip out in an exaggerated pout, causing her to resemble the girl I met back when we we
re in first grade. “Fine. But you better call me when you get home, so I can update you.”

  She slaps my ass and walks backward away from me, throwing me a wink before turning around. The bell rings just as I walk into my first period English class and my friend, Jazmin Hunte, taps the desk next to her in the back of the room, as if there was a chance I would sit anywhere else.

  I immediately direct my attention to the front of the room, but I’m distracted by another tap on my desk. I look down to find a note from Jazmin.

  Wanna stay after school and do some shooting drills?

  I smile at the note. I love my friendship with Jazmin because we have the exact same goals. Being on varsity is all either of us care about right now. I try my best to pay attention to my teacher, who is talking about how we are about to start Lord of the Flies, while writing back to Jazmin.

  Can’t. Work :(

  It doesn’t take long for Jazmin to write back. Apparently, she isn’t as worried about paying attention, which could have to do with the fact that we’ve both already read Lord of the Flies. After becoming obsessed with the first season of The Wilds, we decided to read it since we heard there were similarities. Jazmin loved it. I really enjoyed it, but it could never compare to The Wilds since there were no lesbians.

  You always work!

  I laugh quietly before responding. You sound like Lydia.

  Must be true then. When do you get off? Want to come over to my house afterward to shoot hoops? My mom can make snacks.

  Jazmin certainly knows the way to my heart. You had me at snacks. I’ll be over around 8. I just need to stop at home quick after work.

  ***

  As soon as school ends, I swap my T-shirt for my blue polo that sports the name of the small ice cream shop I work at. I grab the matching blue visor from my locker but refuse to put that on until I absolutely have to. To say that thing is an eyesore would be the understatement of the century.

  I clock into work just before 3:30, which means I’ll get about three and a half hours tonight. The shop is owned by an older couple, and they insist the high school students working there leave by seven if they come right from school. The only way you’re allowed to work later is if you do your homework first and promise them that it’s all done before starting. It’s a bit extra, but I like it. It’s kind of like having another set of grandparents. I’m lucky enough to have two sets living within a half hour of me, but I’d never complain about more.

  As soon as I’m standing at the front, my visor now in place, Delilah Howard slides up beside me. We don’t run in the exact same social circles at school, but there is some overlap, and she’s my favorite person in the world to work with. “Lydia tells me you were talking about checking out the girls’ soccer team. Have any prospects in mind?”

  I stop myself from rolling my eyes. Lydia is such a gossip, and if I didn’t love her so much, it would probably annoy the shit out of me. I know that’s just Lydia though. “Lydia told you that?” I asked instead of addressing the actual question.

  As if picking up on my unspoken question, Delilah nods in response. “We have physics together. We’re partners for a project.”

  “Well, Lydia is getting you excited for no reason at all. I just said I wanted to go to a girls’ game for the eye candy. I’m not looking to date anyone.”

  Delilah nods once again. “I feel that. My focus is on my AP classes right now. Dating is the last thing on my mind.”

  Delilah is by far the smartest person at my school, and the only reason she isn’t number one in our class is because of Genesis Brimstone. She’s taking the easiest class load just so she can be on top. I get along with pretty much everyone and although I don’t dislike anyone, there are two people who rub me the wrong way, and one of them is Genesis. She’s on the basketball team with me and actually requested to stay on the JV team throughout her high school career. She says it’s so she can be a guide for the younger players, but we all know it’s because she thinks if she plays JV long enough, she eventually will be the best player. On top of that, she’s also ridiculously religious, hence the name her parents gave her, so she’s always had a problem with the fact that I’m gay. She’s never said it directly, but she’s asked me to come to church with her multiple times, making comments about how she thinks it could be beneficial for me. What else could that possibly mean?

  The last thing I want to do is get angry thinking about Genesis, so I crane my neck to try to peer around the corner. When I realize there is no hope of figuring out who is over there, I turn my attention back to Delilah. “Who is on the outside window tonight?”

  The ice cream shop has a little inside area with a few tables that allow it to be open year-round, but there is also a window that people can walk up to from outside. This window tends to be much busier at this time of year when it’s still nice outside. I always feel bad for the people who get stuck working over there.

  “Eli is over there by himself right now. Payton should be joining him soon.”

  Eli Dubs is a year behind me in school and mostly sticks to himself at work, so I don’t know too much about him. Payton Benner is also somewhat of a mystery since she goes to a different school than the rest of us. Her school is fifteen minutes from ours and one of our biggest rivals in most sports, but since she doesn’t play any sports, all I know about her is what I’ve learned from working with her. That isn’t much since she’s pretty shy most of the time. In fact, the only person she really seems to open up to ever is Eli.

  Between working with Delilah and visits from other classmates, the next three hours seem to fly by. I remember to take my visor off and put it into my work locker before leaving this time. Thank God. I hate taking that thing to school because my friends make such fun of it.

  The drive back to my house is less than ten minutes, and as soon as I walk through the front door, I’m greeted by my little sister, Morgan, and her best friend, Jocelyn Raemer. Little is a bit of an exaggeration though, given that my sister is just slightly more than a year younger than me and only a grade below me in school. That still doesn’t stop me from seeing her as my annoying little sister though, so I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes when they run to the door as soon as I walk in.

  “Want to go for ice cream?” she asks as she bounces from foot to foot. I know that’s actually code for do you want to take us for ice cream since they don’t have their licenses yet. “Both JV and varsity girls won tonight and Joc scored three goals, so we want to celebrate.”

  “You want me to take you to get ice cream…” I draw out my words for dramatic effect. “From the place I work… that I literally just left.”

  Jocelyn shakes her head. “You really don’t have to.” Jocelyn is a year younger than my sister, which makes her just two years younger than me, but that age difference is glaringly obvious. This is probably because Jocelyn is still so shy around me even though we have known each other most of our lives. I have no idea why that is since I’ve always tried my best to make her feel comfortable and wanted, even when my sister is on my last nerve.

  “Three goals though?” I sigh because I know I’m about to give in.

  Jocelyn’s face turns red as she looks toward the ground and shrugs. “Yeah, but just for JV.”

  I reach out and squeeze Jocelyn’s shoulder. “Still amazing. Plus, it won’t be JV for long with the way you’re killing it.” I’m not just saying that. I’ve seen Jocelyn play and if I had to guess, I’d say she’ll see some time in a varsity game by the end of the season. “I’m going over to Jazmin’s house soon, but we can go.” I hitched my thumb toward the stairs. “Just let me ask Marcus if he wants anything.”

  “Yes!” Morgan puts her hand up to high five Jocelyn then looks back at me. “Fair warning. Abby is here. Make sure you knock first.”

  Abby is my brother’s girlfriend. They’ve been dating since their freshman year and are now seniors. Even after three years together, they still act like a new couple. I love the two of them together, but it’s a little much how they can’t seem to ever be apart. I never want to be like that with someone, but I guess I can’t blame them since Abby doesn’t have the best home life. I don’t know the extent of it. I just know my brother said that’s why she likes spending so much time with our family.