Our Beating Hearts

10

THE SECOND I STEP OFF the bus on Monday, Calum's in my face. "Hey," he says casually, falling into step beside me. "So, last night was weird."

"Uh, yeah." I wince as soon as I say it. I have this problem sometimes where I sound bitchier than I mean to, and it's a thousand times worse when it comes to Calum. Luke once asked me point-blank why I dislike Calum so much. But here's the thing: I don't even dislike Cal. It's just that my brain doesn't work right around him.

It doesn't help that he looks so fucking hot-a black tank top and black skinny jeans. He opens his water bottle, drinking it, and then catches my eye and grins.

"Okay, so I have a proposition for you," he says.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm." He tilts his head sideways and his eyes glint like he's about to make a joke. He's an inch or two taller than me, and probably twice my weight. Or not. I don't know. He's not actually that big. Just kind of trim and muscular.

"So, this campus tour," he says when we get to my locker. "I'm not going with my parents. Not doing it."

"Everyone brings their parents."

He shakes his head. "Not me."

"You sound very certain about that." I feel myself smiling.

"Do you want to come with me?" he asks. "Spring break. Any day. I can borrow my mom's car and drive us up there, and we can stay with my cousin's friend. It could be like a whole road trip."

"Like Michael and Luke?"

"Uh, they wish they were coming on our trip. Because we'll get to go to parties and do whatever we want. It'll be amazing. We'll actually get a real idea of what it's like there."

I look at him, speechless. Other than Simon Cowell's bathroom, I don't think we've been alone in a room together for over a year. But suddenly Calum's talking like we're the kind of friends who go to parties and take selfies and split French fries at midnight. Am I losing my mind?

"Or not," he adds quickly. "We don't have to go to parties. I seriously don't care. Totally up to you."

"So, you want me to go with you to Sydney," I say slowly. Then I realize my fingers are tapping out a drumbeat. On my locker. I let my hand fall.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

I shake my head quickly, staring at my shoes. "We're not . . ." I shut my eyes.

I'm not friends with Calum Hood. I'm not anything with Calum Hood. And to be honest, this whole thing is fucking me up a little.

"Obviously, I know you have to ask your mom and everything."

"I just . . ."

I glance up in time to see Jenny charging toward me, hands clasped together like she means business.

"We'll talk," Calum says, the palm of his hand grazing my arm. Then he disappears up the stairs like he was never here at all.

"So?" Jennifer says with a big, expectant smile.

My eyes drift toward the staircase. "What's up?" I say halfheartedly.

"So, what did you think?"

"What did I think?"

"Of the play!"

"Oh," I say. "It was great. Congrats."

"Thank you! Are we still on for rehearsal?"