The Problem With Forever

Sounded totally crazy, but also possible, because I felt like anything was possible.

As I headed toward the lunch line, trying to determine what the hell was on the menu, because what I saw a guy carrying did not look like roasted chicken, Keira glanced up and waved.

Relief nearly took my legs out from underneath me. If she waved, she most likely wouldn’t laugh at me when I walked up to her table. My smile was probably really creepy, so I hurried to the lunch line, no longer concerned by the fact that what was being slopped on my plate actually smelled like fish instead of chicken. Still, my hands shook as I clutched the tray.

I faced the cafeteria, wishing Rider would show up and cart me away.

Hope sparked in my chest the moment that thought completed itself. I caught my breath. That was wrong—all of it wrong, the hope and then need that filled me. Relying on him to swoop in instead of doing this myself wasn’t what I wanted or needed. My grip tightened on the tray as I squared my shoulders. Knots took over my stomach, leaving no room for an appetite.

I can do this.

Drawing in a deep breath, I forced my feet to carry me over to the table. I took two steps. I had to walk around it to make it to Keira’s side, and that had to be one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Eyes lifted from cell phones, landing on me. The stares were curious and confused, and the weight dragged down each of my steps. My chest felt tight with unfurling panic as I heard a girl at the table whisper, and Keira looked up at me.

Time seemed to have stopped.

And then a wide smile broke out across Keira’s face. “Hey, girl, I saved you a seat.” She patted the space beside her.

There was a buzz in my head, like an army of bees had burst from a hive within me. It took every ounce of concentration and effort to place the tray on the table without spilling anything and to sit without falling over. When my butt finally hit the hard plastic of the chair, I felt like I’d just climbed a rock wall.

“This is Mallory Dodge—your last name is Dodge, right?” she asked, dark eyes glimmering in the bright overhead lights.

I nodded, trying to get my lips to form a smile that didn’t make people want to run and hide their kids or something.

“Mallory’s in my English and speech classes. This is her first year here,” Keira continued, leaning back in the seat. She gestured at the girl with green eyes next to her. “This is Rachel.”

The pretty blonde wiggled her fingers in my direction.

“And that is Jo.” Keira nodded across the table at a dark-skinned girl with curly hair like hers. “And this is Anna. She’s the one who broke her wrist. She’s normally a base, but she was showing off. We all know how that ended.”

The brunette next to Jo raised her left arm, showing off a hot pink cast that circled her forearm and half of her hand. “I probably should’ve just let my face break my fall.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, if you broke your nose, you could still cheer.” Jo grinned at her.

Anna flipped her off with her good hand.

Keira laughed.

I rubbed my damp palms along my thighs. I really hoped no one shook my hand. Did people shake hands anymore? I didn’t think so. At least not at school, because that would be weird.

“You think?” Anna replied drily, raising brown eyebrows.

“Anyway.” Keira drew the word out, and then continued to introduce the other people at the table.

Everyone smiled or waved, and I liked to think the grimace on my face was more of a grin. My hands were folded so tight in my lap that my fingers were bloodless. During the flash round of introductions, two guys ended up at the table. One of them, who I recognized from one of my classes and thought was named Peter, draped an arm over Anna’s shoulder. The other sat next to Jo.

“You’re in my history class, right?” Possibly Peter asked, eyes narrowing thoughtfully on me.

My tongue was a lead pipe in my mouth so all I could do was nod.

“Cool,” he replied as he swiped a grape off Anna’s plate. Leaning to the side, he pulled out his phone. “I thought I saw you in there before I fell asleep.”

The other guy snorted.

Anna giggled. “I have no idea how you pass your classes. Seriously.”

He winked at her. “It’s my charm.”

“That’s doubtful,” Keira replied wryly as she looked at Peter. “I saw your picture this morning on Instagram. Did your shirt happen to conveniently fall off?”

Peter looked up from his phone. “This body?” He waved his free hand over his chest. “Needs to be shared with the world. See. Two hundred likes already.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “Two hundred likes isn’t something to brag about.”

I didn’t have an Instagram account. Mainly because I had no idea what I’d take pictures of. Soap carvings? That would be lame, but now I felt like I really needed to get on that.

The group fell into an easy conversation that I was ridiculously envious of. The comradeship and joking, the genuine affection for each other, was something I had such limited experience with. I watched them as if I were a scientist studying an unknown species. I mean, I was close to Ainsley, but we didn’t go to school together like this.

I coasted through lunch, picking at my so-called chicken and what I think might have been scalloped potatoes. Chatter surrounded me. Every so often someone would ask a question or make a comment, and I would nod or shake my head in response. If anyone thought it was weird, no one said anything or acted different, but they had to have noticed that I hadn’t spoken a word.

Frustration bloomed inside me, because I knew I could talk, but every time there was the perfect moment for me to speak up, I got too caught up in overthinking what I could say. I remained silent, as if there was a cap plugging my throat closed, allowing only the minimal amount of air through.

Words were not the enemy or the monster under my bed, but they held such power over me. They were like the ghost of a loved one, forever haunting me.

Lunch ended without me talking but also without a major disaster, and I wanted to bound out of the cafeteria total Sound of Music style, with my arms spread wide. I was a complete dork, but as Keira and I parted ways, there was a happy buzz in my veins.

Today was a first.

I might not have spoken, but never had I ever sat at a lunch table with girls before. Years ago, when I attended school with Rider, I’d eaten lunch with him and sometimes with the other kids that came and went from our table, but never like this. Never on my own.

Never without someone there to speak for me.

It was major. There was probably a lame bounce in my step as I headed to class, and a small, almost triumphant smile was plastered across my face. Today was a freaking success. Go me. As speech class rolled around and I walked inside, I saw Paige in her seat, and some of the bounce went out of my step. She didn’t say anything as I took my seat, but I could feel her stare as I busied myself with pulling out my textbook. Once that was on my desk, I took a deep breath and looked up. A moment passed.

“He’s not coming. Neither is Hector.”

I blinked at the sound of Paige’s voice, and my gaze shot to her.

Paige was leaning back in her chair, her long legs stretched out underneath the desk and crossed at the ankles. Her dark eyes were fixed on me. “So, you know, you can stop staring at the door anytime now.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I opened my mouth to tell her that I wasn’t watching for Rider, but that...that would be a lie. Heat invaded my cheeks.

One side of her lips curled up as she drew her legs in under the desk and leaned over, placing her hand on Rider’s empty seat. Her voice was low when she spoke. “I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but Rider is not available.”

Air caught in my throat as I stilled.

“Like I told you the other day, I’m his girlfriend,” she continued. “And I’ve got to say, sitting here and watching you wait for him to come in here is not cool.”