Free Delicate by Stephanie Campbell

have something to prove.

- Twelve -
     
    “Morning, baby,” Trevor says. I almost jog right past him on my way to first period, trying not to be late. I back up and kiss him quickly. “Did you oversleep?”
    “No, I just lost track of time at gym. Then I had to get back home to make sure Maisy was up…”
    “You take on too much,” he says, pulling me in as we walk together. I try to pick up the pace. I really don’t want to be late, but Trevor is in no hurry. He’s a senior and it’s second semester. H e’s got all the time in the world.
    “Not anymore than usual, I guess.”
    “Maybe not. I just wish we could spend more time together,” he says.
    “We spend a lot of time together,” I say.
    “Not really. Not outside of school anymore. Think about it, when was the last time you let me take you to dinner?”
    I shrug.
    “It’s just Nationals are coming up, and I’ve been swamped with homework…”
    “Okay. But will you let me take you out?”
    I smile. I love this new attentiveness, but, when Trevor finds out about the cameras wanting to follow me around now… As quick as I think it, I replace the thought with the look of dad’s look of relief when I was picked for the show. Though he’d never said anything, I kn o w what a big deal it i s. How much it will help.
    “Yes. Absolutely. We’ll talk about it at lunch.”
    I slip into the door of Oceanography just as the second bell rings.
    Grant glances up as I slide into my chair. As soon as I see his face, I remember my annoyance from Saturday night. I unpack my binder and book and don’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him, but I can feel him staring at me.
    Mrs. Drez walks down the aisles passing out permission slips for a field trip to the Atlanta Aquarium. Quinn would be happy to know that her assessment of the class ’ s activities was half true. Instead of sliding mine to me, Grant holds it hostage.
    “Sydney?” he says, holding the paper to his chest.
    He’s going to freaking force me to have to look at him.
    “What?” I ask, reaching for the permission slip. He doesn’t hand it over.
    “Did you have a good time Saturday night?” he asks politely.
    “Did you?” I snap.
    He doesn’t seem affected by my sour tone.
    “Eh,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
    Oh, nice. You stay the night with the most beautiful girl in school and all she garners is an, “eh?” He’s more arrogant than I had thought.
    “I had an incredible time, actually,” I say smugly.
    “What’d you do after prom?” he asks.
    I let out a loud laugh and Mrs. Drez shoots a warning look my direction.
    “What do you think I did?”
    “Um, is this a trick question? I have no idea. I was just trying to make conversation,” he says. Did he seriously not see me at the lake house? Was he really that oblivious when he was with Shayna? I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s never lied to me before.
    “I went to my boyfriend’s lake house. And you were there, too,” I say flatly.
    He mulls this over for a second.
    “That was your boyfriends place?” His voice holds a twinge of amusement.
    “Yep. And it sure seemed like you were enjoying yourself,” I mumble. “Now, can I have my permission slip?”
    “What?” he asks.
    I shake my head without repeating myself. He looks puzzled as he processes the accusation.
    “No, Sydney, it’s not like that,” he says. “I can totally explain.”
    “I’m sure you can,” I say.
    “Sydney, just listen.”
    “I’m not interested in what happened, Grant. Just answer this for me. Was Shayna to get back at me for not telling you about Trevor?”
    He scoffs.
    “So, what, Trevor was the quid and Shayna was the pro quo ? I don’t think so, Syd. Playing games isn’t my style.”
    He slides the permission slip across the table and positions his chair away from mine.
     
    When I get to English, Quinn is practically foaming at the mouth for details about my night with Trevor. Her round of