Forevermore

Sixteen

"Ah!" Layla squeals as she sits down across from Linh and I. "You guys look so cute."

Homecoming is this weekend, which means it's a spirit week. I still haven't outgrown dressing up for it. Thankfully, neither has Linh.

Currently, we're matching for twin day.

It was a last minute decision, which is why we're wearing the outfits we bought for twin day last year.

A white tank top with a blue floral pattern and lace that adorns the neckline. Thanks to the dress code, we have to wear a baby blue cardigan to cover our shoulders–how else would the boys be able to focus in class? I want to roll my eyes at the thought.

We're wearing matching jeans, but our Chuck Taylor's are different colors. Mine are black, hers are white. I personally don't trust myself with white shoes since I'm very careless with where I step. I'm likely to stain them in an instant.

Linh's hair is pulled into a carefully crafted bun that sits low on the back of her head, while mine is in a loose braid that hangs off of my shoulder.

The other three girls of our group are wearing matching black dresses with square necklines and long sleeves.

We all have on matching silver necklaces with a heart pendant that has the words good riddance engraved onto it. We got them back in April after going to a Gracie Abrams concert together.

I personally think our group looks pretty cute.

Before either of us gets the chance to respond to Layla's compliment, music starts playing from a speaker.

Everyone's attention snaps towards the middle of the cafeteria where the sound is coming from.

Various players on the football team are doing some kind of dance to Can't Take My Eyes off You. Their movements are stiff and would look unnatural if it weren't for the confidence oozing from each of the players.

For a moment, I think it's some stunt to promote the game on Friday, or the dance on Saturday. But then a player from the highschool's football team steps towards a table with a sign that has blocky black letters that read out HOCO?

He says something unintelligible to a girl at the table he's standing in front of, and she jumps up to give him a hug.

"That's a little dramatic for homecoming," Linh says from beside me.

I nod in agreement, but my eyes remain on the guys who are still dancing. It's amusing, honestly.

The weight of someone's stare distracts me from the spectacle. I turn my head to my left and see Ezra at a nearby table, his eyes resting on me. Or in my direction.

But maybe I'm just delusional, because he swiftly looks away the second our eyes connect.

Maybe he was just zoning out.

Yeah.

Zoning out.

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Wednesday is surfers versus bikers and I'm wearing a simple white t-shirt and denim jeans, but that's because I'm waiting for someone to give me what I need.

"Hey." Speaking of said someone.

Ezra sets two things on my desk in AP Biology. The floral button-up polo that he wore yesterday for decades day and a clear plastic cup of coffee.

"You got me this?" I ask, reading the order printed out on the sticker on the cup. Surprisingly, it's my exact order. A medium iced coffee, cream, three pumps of caramel and a blueberry flavor shot. "How did you remember?"

I finally look over at him where he's now sitting at the desk beside me, his legs angled towards me. He shrugs, but my attention is on his biker-themed outfit. He has a black leather jacket over a Rolling Stones t-shirt. And if that wasn't enough, his hair is slicked back with hair gel, pulling it all together. My brother got into a similar outfit this morning, so I'm assuming they're sort of matching.

"Asked your dad before I went," he answers. "Don't give me that look, I had the truck this morning and decided to get stuff for all of my friends."

Friends.

I can't help the grin that spreads over my face. "Well, thank you. For everything." I slide the floral shirt over my arms, adjusting it to fit. The scent of laundry detergent swarms the air around me, which means he probably cleaned it in between school yesterday and this morning.

"Of course." He takes a sip from his own drink before tucking his legs under the desk and facing forward.

After the bell rings and the class pledges allegiance–which is a ritual that is still a little odd to me despite the fact that this is my eleventh year of school–Mrs. Janko drops a textbook on her lectern, sending a loud thud through the classroom. It's an effective way to get the talking to stop.

"Alright!" Her animated voice exclaims. "It's probably wrong to be as lenient with AP students as I am with the lower levels, but in all honesty, this week is wearing me out. Which is why I'm not going to be doing a lab." She pauses, looking up from her lectern. Her classes always feel like watching a performance. "You will choose one partner– and yes I mean one unless you can strangle pity from me."

Weariness drills through my veins. I don't have any friends in this class–besides Ezra now, I guess–so I'll probably end up working either alone or in an awkward pairing.

"You guys will work together to make a presentation about any topic from the first unit. There's only a few things I ask of you, alright?" Mrs. Janko begins ticking the list off with her fingers. "Demonstrate a clear understanding of the topic of your choice, organize it properly, and do something more than white background and Arial font. Extra credit for the prettiest presentation. Extra credit for the funniest. Extra-extra credit if both. It's not that hard so I expect the best. Got it?" Her assignments are never very serious, but I get the sense that the fun aspect of them is why most kids get work done so easily.

The class is silent as she smiles at us until at once, she claps twice. "Chop, chop."

I put my hands on my desk and stare at my fingers while everyone chooses their partners.

Typically, everyone ignores me, but today? I feel a piece of paper lightly graze my hand.

I look to my right where Ezra is busy on his phone, though I suspect it came from him.

When I unfold the paper, it reveals semi-messy handwriting that reads, partner-in-crime? -e.c

A smile spreads across my lips before I can stop it. I pick up my pen and write back. You could've just asked me, but I suppose I can accept this way too. Given the free coffee. -I.M.

I hand the paper back to Ezra and watch as he unfolds it to read. He looks up at me before nodding with a sly grin. I let out a soft laugh. This should be fun.

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A/N: Forgive me, but I won't be showing them doing the project because I seriously don't understand anything when it comes to science! It does get brought up later, but you won't see them making the presentation and stuff. Sorry!!!