Chapters (44)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Julie Murphy
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
“You’ve made yourself pretty clear.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe I’m stuck doing another project with you. I’m so close to being done with this place and then the gods of high school throw down one last gauntlet.” I roll my shoulders back in a sad attempt to relieve the tension in my body and in this truck. “You know what? Never mind. What are we going to do for these projects?”
Tucker shrugs, totally chill and completely unmoved. “We could do a breakfast like Mrs. Leonard said.”
I shake my head. “That’s not inventive. Me winning this thing is a long shot, but I’ll die before I’m boring. What would you want if you were a teacher?”
He laughs. “A day off.”
That gets a slight smile from me. “Fair, but I don’t think we have that kind of authority. What about, like, a spa day?”
“That sounds really awkward. I use three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, so I don’t think that’s really my speed.”
And admittedly, outside of the occasional sheet mask, I’m no pro either. “Well, do you have any ideas for the legacy project at least?”
He shrugs. “I could build something. Like a bench. Or a planter box.”
“Are you trying to flex on me? I can build something with a piece of wood and four legs too.”
Tucker watches the road disappear behind us through his rearview mirror and smiles. “I didn’t say you weren’t good with your hands.”
“Not explicitly.”
“And I didn’t want to end up with Melissa, for the record.”
“Good for you. I don’t really keep up with all the straight romance gossip. Sue me.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to say he doesn’t mind that we’re partnered up, but honestly, I don’t care. My time left in high school is limited and I’m sure not wasting it trying to be friends with some guy who can’t even follow through on a class project.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.
“Can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“Was the video real? Did you really want to audition for that show?”
“Does it matter?” I ask as the truck chugs up the hill.
“To me it does.”
I swallow audibly. I’m not going to give this guy an inch. “I think I love fried chicken more than my family.”
He leans back and takes a whiff of our fried surroundings. “I would die for two things: a real-life Ewok and fried okra.”
“Wow, does the student body know you’re a nerd?” I park in front of the trailer office and hit the e-brake.