The past month had been a blissful blur of chat boxes, coding, and the club that shall not be named. The image of Amber, a crease in her brow from concentrating so hard on trying to beat me at CTF, made me goofy-grin. Every. Single. Time.

Even now. When it shouldn’t. Since I was headed to the principal’s office.

Principal Tanner had emailed me early Saturday morning to “request” my presence here today. We both knew it wasn’t a request—if I didn’t show, there would be repercussions to deal with. He still blamed me for not catching the video soon enough, and I didn’t need him forgetting to recommend me when MIT admissions emailed him about my grades and performance. I didn’t have time for that. I barely had time for the punishment he placed upon me, although, to be fair, Code Club had turned out more incredible than I could’ve ever imagined. Sure, maintaining the school’s website was something I could do in my sleep, but the club? It had become something I looked forward to.

Because of Amber.

I’d spent every weekend since it started resisting the urge to text her. Visiting her work a few Fridays ago had been pure instinct, and I hadn’t been lying when I said I’d gotten bored without her. She was too much fun—whether I was teasing her to rile her up or talking hacks or movie preferences. Nothing seemed boring when she was around.

Maybe this weekend I’d text her.

But I knew she was still warming up to letting me fully in as her friend, and I didn’t want to push my luck. Overextend myself.

My bag bumped heavily on my hip as I approached the principal’s office. The halls were so quiet this early in the morning, something I might have relished if not for the reason I was here.

“Mr. Winters,” Tanner’s secretary—Mrs. Stone—greeted me as I walked inside. “He’s expecting you.” She motioned toward the second door that led to his personal office.

“Thanks,” I said, not bothering to knock on the closed door.

Principal Tanner stood behind his desk, his palms placed on the smooth wooden surface as he leaned over his Mac. He glared at it, the muscles in his shoulders taut.

I cleared my throat, and Tanner snapped his eyes to me then the large clock on his wall.

I was ten minutes early. Figured that was safer than being a second late.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and the ease in his tone as he stood to a normal position raised my hackles. “I need your advice.”

Pinching myself seemed like the smartest move—surely, I’d fallen into some Twilight Zone dream—but I was too shocked to move.