Chapter 10: Grayson

At school the following day, I’m anxious to find Isabelle. She ran out of Parker’s so fast last night, and then she wouldn’t answer any of my messages. She said Cam wasn’t cheating on her, but he was there with another girl, and she had that look on her face. The one of stark realization and betrayal. I know that look too well—my father wore it for months after my mother cheated on him.

Fresh worry burrows inside of me, and I practically run through the hall. When I get closer to Isabelle’s locker, I slow down. She's standing in front of Cam, shoulders stiff and back ramrod straight. I can only imagine how tense her expression must be. Cam's face is red, and he’s gesturing wildly with his hands. I approach cautiously, not wanting to interrupt but desperate to know what’s going on. To help Isabelle if I can.

“There’s nothing to explain.” Isabelle’s voice is even and controlled. “I know what I saw, Cam.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think anymore. You broke up with me, remember?”

My steps falter. Cam broke up with Isabelle. When? He’s dumber than I thought, but her interactions with me last night suddenly make a lot more sense. No wonder she didn’t push me away or tell me to get my hands off her. If I had known this last night…it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Making a move on her at a cheesy pizza joint while both our fathers were close by was stupid.

But now all bets are off. She’s fair game.

“That’s the best part of breaking up. Neither of us has to care anymore,” she continues. “And really, it’s God you need explain yourself to. Not me.”

Cam says something I can’t hear and storms off. Isabelle’s shoulders relax, and then she rests her forehead on her locker.

“Everything all right?” I ask.

She gasps with surprise and jerks upright. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “I overheard you and Cam.”

Groaning, she crosses her arms. “Well, now you know, I guess.” Her eyes are bloodshot, as if she spent all night crying.

The idea of her crying over someone like Cam makes my blood boil. She’s way too good for him. I hope she sees that. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay. When you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“What makes you think I’m going to change my mind?”

My lips twitch with the desire to smile. I shrug. “I don’t know. Call it a guy’s intuition.”

“If you say so.”

I sigh, hating how sad and defeated she is right now. Where is the funny, smart-mouthed girl who can’t resist giving me a hard time?

“I got you something.” I pull my bag around to the front of my body and dig through it. “But I’m not sure I should give it to you.”

“Uh…okay?” Confusion blankets her face.

“Well, I wasn’t really thinking when I made it, and it’s probably really insensitive.”

“Just give it to me,” she says with exasperation.

“If you say so.” I hand her a trophy similar to the ones we got last night. Except this one has been altered—I taped a piece of paper across the front, replacing “#1 Player” with the words: #1 Cheater.

I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t take this joke the wrong way. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

She stares at it, and then, slowly, the corners of her mouth lift into a genuine smile. “I didn’t cheat. It’s not my fault you suck at arcade games.”

Relief washes over me. “I demand a do-over.” I slice a look at her to gauge her reaction. It’s too soon to ask her out on a date. I hope she doesn’t take it that way. If I screw up now, I might never get a second chance. Together, we head toward our Spanish class. Isabelle is quiet, and I want to smack myself for being so dumb.

“When?” she asks.

“What?” I open the door to our class and motion for her to go first.

“When do you want a do-over?” She takes her seat, and I sit next to her.

Wow. I fully expected her to laugh it off and not answer me—or worse, tell me no—but now she’s asking me when? I have no idea what to say. “Tonight?”

“Sorry. I’m busy tonight. And so are you, remember?” She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for me to say something.

I’m busy tonight? Doing what? I search my mind for what I should know… “Oh, right. I’m hanging out with Vick. Okay, how about tomorrow?”

“I’m busy tomorrow, too.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” The smirk on her face tells me she’s not really sorry.

“Ah, I see. Last night was beginner’s luck, and you’re afraid if I get a do-over, I’ll beat you, so you’re stalling.”

“Wrong.”

“Prove it.” I twist in my chair to face her. “This weekend. You and me and Parker’s arcade.” My heart thunders as I wait for her to answer. Even though I know it’s not a date, my nerves are frazzled. She’s single now, which means anything is possible.

“I promise I’m not stalling, but I really am busy all weekend.” She lowers her gaze to her hands. “Next week?” She looks up, hopeful.

Disappointment wraps around me. At least she didn’t give me a flat-out no. Still, waiting almost a full week to hang out? That sucks. But what choice do I have? “Next week works for me.”

She glances in my direction and grins. “I hope you’re ready to lose again.”

The bell rings, cutting off my reply. starts class and ins us we’ll be learning the dance for our presentations. Groans ripple through the room, but I couldn’t be happier. As a class, we head to the gym where an old CD player has been set up on a small table in the corner.

After fifteen minutes of instruction and demonstration, says, “Ahora tu intenta.” Now you try.

I step up to Isabelle and hold my arms in the proper frame position. “Ready?”

“Ah-ah.” tsks. “Español.”

Isabelle hesitates a moment before placing her hand in mine. When walks away, Isabelle whispers, “I can’t believe we have to do this.”

“Is the thought of dancing with me that repulsive?” I place my other hand on her waist, and she puts hers on my shoulder. She’s close enough I can count the freckles on her face.

“No, but I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.” She frowns. “I have no rhythm at all.”

“Don’t worry. I have enough for both of us.”

She rolls her eyes.

I grin.

Seorita Guzman demonstrates the steps one more time and then counts the timing. “Uno, dos, tres…” She snaps her fingers with each count. “Y ve!” And go.

All four pairs of students move, all of us out of sync. Isabelle is looking down at her feet. Her entire body is stiff, and her movements are robotic.

I squeeze her hand. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

She doesn’t relax, though. If anything, she becomes more self-conscious and awkward. If she doesn’t loosen up, we’ll never pass this part of the project. Then again, it’s only the first practice. Maybe with time she’ll improve. I hope. Regardless, I need to find a way to get her to relax and feel the music rather than thinking her way through it.

“Seor Alexander. Muy bien.” Very good. Seorita Guzmn smiles.

“Gracias.”

She moves down the row, stopping occasionally to give tips and advice. Isabelle finally looks up. “How do you know how to do this?”

“I don’t. I mean, not this dance specifically, but I spent a few years in Argentina.”

Isabelle stops moving completely. “You did?” Her voice is full of awe.

I nod. “That’s where my dad first met my mom. We lived there for six years.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“Baile!” Dance! glares at us.

Isabelle and I begin to dance again—if you can call it that. It’s going to take a lot of practice to make it look like we know what we’re doing, but forget actually being good. That’s never gonna happen.

***

I haven’t seen Isabelle since Spanish this morning, so when lunch rolls around, I rush to the cafeteria. Everyone is seated inside today, courtesy of maintenance mowing the lawn and repainting the tables, but Isabelle’s not at the table. Hannah is, and so are Vick and the other guys. But Cam and Isabelle are missing. Are they together, possibly working things out? My stomach sinks.

“Hey, man.” Vick holds out his fist, and I bump my knuckles to his. “We still hanging out today?”

“Sure. Where’s everyone else?” I ask causally, but I doubt I’m fooling either of them.

“Isabelle is hiding out in the library. She says she’s behind on a research project, but I think she’s trying to avoid Cam,” Hannah explains.

Everything in me wants to get up and go find Isabelle, but if she really is hiding, she probably wants to be left alone. I have to respect her privacy.

“And Cam is right there.” Hannah nods over my shoulder.

Cam and another guy I haven’t met approach the table and take the seats across from me and Vick.

“What’s up, Trevor?” Vick juts his chin out at the new guy.

“Not much, bro.” Trevor’s long, black hair is tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“This is Grayson.” Vick jabs his thumb in my direction.

“Hey,” I say to Trevor. He looks familiar, but I don’t know where I’ve seen him before.

“Don’t we have English together?” Trevor asks.

“Yup.” Well, that explains how I know him.

“Do you have yesterday’s notes? I missed class.”

“They’re in my locker, but I can give them to you later.” I unwrap my ham and cheese sandwich and take a large bite. The ham is a little dry, but the overabundance of mayonnaise helps it go down a little easier.

“So, you do know how to swim, don’t you?” Vick asks. He crunches on celery.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I’m teaching you the basics of surfing today.” He grins and slaps me on the back.

I nearly choke on my food and have to take a long drink of water to wash it down. “What?” I wipe my mouth. “You’re joking, right?”

“We’ve all had to suffer through one of Vick’s surfing lessons. It’s your turn now, bro.” Trevor laughs.

“The water’s going to be freezing,” I say.

“All right, I’m outta here.” Hannah stands, cell phone in her hand. “Catch ya guys later.”

She waves and leaves, and part of me hopes she’s going to be with Isabelle. Which is where I wish I was right now.

“It won’t be too bad. Besides, I have an extra wetsuit you can borrow.” Vick crunches on another celery stalk. “It’s going to be fun.”

“You have a messed-up idea of fun.” I finish my lunch as the guys talk about the upcoming football season. I’ve never been into sports, so I just listen. When I’m finished eating, I stand and turn to Vick. “I’ll meet you in the student parking lot after school, okay?”

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I, uh, forgot I have to meet with my guidance counselor. And, um, I’m gonna grab those notes for Trevor.” Could I come up with any lamer of an excuse? Truth is I want to find Isabelle. I know I shouldn’t, but I just need to know she’s okay.

Vick smiles like he knows I’m lying but eventually nods. “Yeah, see ya later.”

On my way to the exit, Brit intercepts me. I refrain from doing anything to show how annoyed I am.

“Grayson. Just the guy I was looking for.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Did you finish the physics homework?”

“Yeah.” I glance up at the wall clock. Will Isabelle still be in the library by the time I get out of here? Probably not. I sigh with aggravation.

“I don’t understand any of it.” Brit pouts. “Do you think you could help me?”

“Um, sure, but I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Right, of course. Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll call you later?”

I have a sinking feeling she doesn’t want my number just so I can help her with physics homework, but I’m in a rush, and I don’t want to stand here any longer, so I rattle off my number.

“I really gotta go.” I step around her and race up to the library, taking the stairs two at a time.

When I open the door and step inside, I take a deep breath. There’s still twenty minutes left for lunch, so I walk around, looking for Isabelle. She’s not at any of the tables, though. I move my search to the stacks of books, but I still can’t find her. She must have already left.