Opposite Force

Chapter Thirteen

Mikaela Martin | Present

All week, I feel like I'm flying. Peyton and I spend every second we can together. We sit outside at the picnic tables for lunch, just the two of us. He's at my locker every morning. When the final bell rings, he's there again, and I stay after school with him, stealing kisses in empty hallways until football practice starts.

On Wednesday, his one day off from practice, he comes over and does homework with me. As in, Peyton Warner visits my house, sits at my kitchen table, and does math problems. He even accepts Ava and Evan's invitation to play Hungry Hungry Hippos, ultimately declaring Ava the hippo champion of the universe. I never in a million years would have guessed that this would be my life, but it is, and it's amazing.

The school was abuzz with news of Peyton asking me out via the football scoreboard on Monday, but by Wednesday, it's old news. By Thursday, I'm saying hello to people who never even knew my name before in the hallway, sometimes even when Peyton isn't with me.

And on Friday, I'm at Crystal Hannity's house with her boyfriend Will, Sarah, Robbie, Jake, Jake's date Brianne, Peyton, and a very irked Annalise. Liam declined Crystal's invitation, claiming that he needed to shower at home after tennis practice. He has over an hour between the end of practice and our photo plans, so he could easily swing by after his shower, but he insists on meeting us at the school.

Long after my cheeks go numb from the million pictures we pose for, we pile into the limo Crystal's parents rented us. I slide across the smooth black leather seats, claiming a spot in the corner. Peyton follows behind me, not leaving an inch of space between us. He immediately interlaces our fingers, resting our hands on my knee.

"You look beautiful," he whispers into my ear.

I shiver. "You look handsome," I reply when I regain the ability to speak, which takes a while.

Annalise plants herself on the seat perpendicular to mine and purses her lips. "Liam got to the school fifteen minutes ago. He literally could have taken photos," she growls. "I'm going to murder him."

"Make sure you get a picture first," Peyton suggests.

She points her lip gloss at him like he's an orchestra and she's the conductor. "You picked a smart one, Micky."

I blush, squeezing Peyton's hand a little. I did pick a smart one. Well, more like a smart one picked me. "Yeah—" I start.

"The yearbook people are making all the sports teams take pictures when we get there," Jake announces.

A chorus of groans erupts around the limo. Annalise and I shrug. Not our problem. "Guess it's me, you, and Liam to start," Annalise grumbles. Liam plays tennis through a private club, not the school.

My stomach sinks. I really hope Liam's in a better mood than he has been the past week. We've barely spoken since Sunday, and I'm absolutely terrified to see him tonight. If he makes me cry at formal, I don't think our friendship will recover for a long time.

I peek out the tinted window as the limo slows. Oh. We're here already.

A flurry of excitement and anxiety fills my chest as we file out of the limo into the cool autumn air. I hold Peyton's hand as tightly as possible. My heels are anything but high, but I regularly trip in flats, so this is a dangerous journey for me. Our shoes clack against the pavement and cement sidewalk, which carries us to the open gym door. The doorway was hastily decorated with balloons with varying amounts of air in them. Pieces of scotch tape stick out and catch in the light, but I don't care that the decorations leave much to be desired. I'm at fall formal with Peyton.

We show our school IDs to the parents volunteering as bouncers. They stamp our hands with ugly puke-green ink, probably for school spirit, and we're in. I take in the scene before me. More deflated balloons taped to the walls cast shadows in the dim lights. A huge greenscreen takes up most of the wall where the gym mats are typically stacked, and I briefly wonder what poor soul had to move those. They're heavier than they look.

People mostly stand around in small groups, with the occasional person rushing across the gym to greet and compliment friends they see making it past the bouncers. The music, some pop song I probably should have heard before, plays quietly over the speakers.

"I've never gotten to one of these things early," Peyton comments.

"Me neither," I mumble. I never get anywhere early. Well, anywhere except class. Arriving early means there's a chance my friends won't have shown up yet. Standing awkwardly by myself—or worse, with acquaintances I have nothing to talk about with—is a nightmare. When you have social anxiety, fashionably late is the second best option after not going in the first place.

"Yeah, they need to get this party started," Annalise says loudly.

The music volume suddenly increases. I guess the DJ can take a hint. Our group exchanges glances and bursts into laughter while Annalise pretends to bow.

"Hey!" Liam yells, tapping Annalise's shoulder.

"Date! You better take pictures with me after all the sporty people hog the greenscreen," she demands.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." I see him inhale deeply before he says, "You guys look great, Sarah, Micky, Annalise, Crystal."

Peyton's fingers tighten around my waist ever-so-slightly as we all say our thanks to Liam, and I feel myself blushing. He has no reason to worry about Liam, but it's still sweet.

After ten awkward minutes of small talk and compliments, which Peyton makes sure to involve me in, a parent clears her throat directly into the speaker and instructs athletes to line up by team in front of the greenscreen.

With a sigh, Peyton lets go of my waist. "I'll be back," he murmurs into my ear.

I can't control the massive, goofy smile that overtakes my face. He's so cute and doting. "See you soon," I murmur back.

The moment our athlete friends—I can't believe I'm calling popular people friends, but I think some of them actually are!—start milling together at the back of the gym, Liam turns to me. "Mikaela, I need to talk to you." His voice is sharp, the same tone he took at the mall.

"No, you don't," Annalise snaps.

"Yes, I do," he snaps back.

"This isn't the time, Liam," she says, arms crossed. Despite her stern posture, there's something gentle and compassionate in her voice that causes my stomach to sink. If Annalise feels bad for him, whatever he has to say is going to hurt.

What if it's something else about Olivia? Did Peyton know about that? Did Peyton... No, he would never.

"What is it, Liam?" I ask, trying to swallow my anxiety.

"Come outside with me."

"Don't," Annalise sighs.

"Can Annalise come?" I'm not going without her. She can shut him up before he makes me cry. I refuse to ruin the makeup she spent nearly an hour on.

"Will you go otherwise?"

"No," Annalise and I reply at the same time.

"Fine." He turns on his heel and power-walks towards the exit. Annalise and I exchange a weary glance and follow. She's right. Whatever this is, fall formal is not the time, but now that he piqued my curiosity and anxiety, I can't not know what's on his mind.

The cool breeze whips my face, sending a curl into my eye. Great. Watering already. "What's—" I start.

"I'm in love with you, Mikaela," he blurts out.