The idea that Blake stole my book haunts me for the rest of the evening. Deep down, I know it can't be true. It's Blake I'm talking about, the boy who couldn't care less about my campaign, let alone care enough to make copies of my notes and pass them to Chase, but that's what happens when the people you care about shatter your trust. You can't trust anyone.
The worst part about this – maybe not the worst part, but it's up there – is that I have no one to talk to about it. It kills me even to think it, but Blake O'Hare is my only friend.
When did that happen?
To calm down, I spend the next hour designing to-do list templates on my Ipad. It's an easy distraction, and I don't have to think about what Chase and Libby did. I don't drive myself crazy wondering whether Blake had anything to do with it. I don't think, period.
By the time I finish, I've made three templates I'll likely never use and color-coded my calendar. The clock hits seven. It's usually around this time I'd set off to Blake's, not that he's asked me over, but his friends did. I'm supposed to be celebrating my speech playing Beat Saber right now, not sitting in my room making templates. And even though I haven't decided if I trust Blake or not, I can't bring myself to stay away from him.
I peel myself off my bedroom floor and change into something more comfortable. When I'm ready, I lie and tell my parents I'm going to Angela's to celebrate my speech. The second Mom takes to lower her book is torture. I half-expect her to have already heard Angela's running for president and catch me in a bare-faced lie.
Instead, she smiles. "Have fun, Rose."
"Love you, Rosebud," Dad adds.
"Thanks, love you guys," I say and dash through the rain to my car. The weather from this morning hasn't eased up, making driving precarious. I drive extra slowly as I navigate the winding roads leading to Blake's house, telling myself I'm not going for him but because Liv invited me. Not going to Beat Saber Wednesday would be rude.
My heart is pounding as I pull up to his drive. Today's events have made me a wreck, but something about seeing his house calms me, as though I know once inside, I'll be safe. I don't have to worry about Chase or Libby or keep up the smile around my parents; I can breathe.
I kill the engine and flick up my hood before dashing to the basement. Blake is on the sofa alone when I open the door, watching tv. With it already nearing eight, I'd expected the others to be ready for Beat Saber. I close the door, which makes Blake look over. He doesn't say anything, doesn't bring up my breakdown, or ask me why I'm here; I'm grateful. I drop my bag and sink into the space beside him. My body relaxes, and even though the air is smoky, I was right: I can breathe.
After a moment, I glance at his profile, trying to find something in his expression that tells me whether I can trust him. Whether or not he's capable of stealing my campaign book. Everything I've learned about him so far tells me he isn't, but didn't I think the same about Chase?
He half-turns and catches me looking. Embarrassed, I blurt out, "Liv invited me to Beat Saber Wednesday." It's my excuse, and I'll cling to it.
"What," he wants to know, sounding amused, "is Beat Saber Wednesday?"
"Beat Saber Wednesday," I repeat, but he's looking at me like I'm a martian. "The game you guys play on VR. You have to drink when you lose."
Blake puts his beer down and turns to me. "That's not a thing."
"What do you mean that's not a thing?"
"I mean we played it once in the summer because Kenny wouldn't shut up about it. He got so dizzy that we had to hose him down with the water pipe to stop him from puking."
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Checkmate
Teen Fiction[FREE STORY w/ bonus paid chapters] When a scandal hits perfect seventeen-year-old Rose in the run-up to an election, she starts to believe that her dreams of becoming Class President are over. But in the shreds of her reputation is where she meets...
