“Mine too.” Our eyes lock. She’s standing inches from me and I’m barely breathing. Adrenaline pumps into my blood like high-octane fuel. For nearly five years I’ve fought to keep this friendship a friendship. I want to reach out and pull her in. Her breath mingles with mine and I can almost taste the mocha truffles Nana made special for Logan. A lifetime passes in a blink of an eye. Holding her hand, being here with her, adds fuel to this slow-burning fire. But just as I lean in, Logan steps back and turns to the table. “All right, Clyde. We have work to do.” And she hands me a notebook.

Chapter 14: Logan

Just like in a debate competition, I had told Cade we needed to dress up and make an impression on Principal McNeil and Mr. Bartley. We’ll make an impression, all right. But this isn’t quite what I had in mind. I take in Cade’s church clothes—white oxford and pressed black chinos—then appraise my untucked fitted white dress shirt I borrowed from Dad and my black pants. I swear Cade and I didn’t plan it this way. Even our black Converse high-tops match.

Cade shakes his head and laughs, shuts his locker, and joins me at mine as I arrange the papers we need for our meeting with Mr. Bartley and Principal McNeil.

Cade says, “You want me to change into my gym T-shirt?”

“And spoil our fun?” I say in jest.

“You’re sure? I could run to the locker room. It’ll take two minutes. Five max.”

“I’m sure,” I say, lying through my teeth. But it’s better for us to be a bit early than late.

We’re not a couple, but we look like one and I’m even more self-conscious. At the museum, I had wanted to kiss Cade. I had wanted him to kiss me. I think he was going to, but I panicked. We spent the rest of the night keeping a safe distance from one another, pretending like we’d never held hands and that everything was status quo between us.

The way we’re dressed is definitely not status quo. We look like one of those couples. If I saw a couple dressed like this, I’d make a sarcastic comment about it to Cade, have a good laugh over their color-coordinated coupledom, and maybe make gagging noises once they were out of earshot. Why didn’t I wear my red or purple Converse? At least that would have given me some individuality.

Cade leans in and whispers, “We’ve got this.”