A-ver-y!”
“Don’t be shy,” Zac said. “Come on up!”
My body was frozen in place, my fingers poised in mid-tap over my leg. All I could think about was our eighth grade graduation, when I had been called onstage to accept an academic achievement award. I had tripped while going up the steps, fallen on my face and then slid the rest of the way back off the stage. The entire auditorium—students, parents, and teachers—had laughed at my imperfect moment. Elliott had teased me all summer whenever we passed on the sidewalk outside our houses, asking if I’d been on “any good trips” lately.
“It’ll be fun.” Zac smiled wide at me over the microphone. “Come on up, Avery.”
My body finally released itself from the freeze and I could move again. But I didn’t go toward the stage. I leaped out of the bean bag chair and zigzagged through the crowd of tables and people toward the door.
I burst out of the diner, sucking in the warm night air as if I were suffocating. My head spun sickeningly and I bent over, bracing one arm against the brick wall to steady myself. Everything came pouring out of me in hot tears streaming down my cheeks.
He found me there, still bent over and sobbing. Without a word, he pulled me into him, slipping his arms around me and holding me close. I buried my face into his shoulder. I wasn’t even sure exactly why I was crying, but a million reasons flooded into my head all at once. Because of that memory from eighth grade. Because I had wanted to kiss Zac. Because Molly was in love with Elliott. Because Elliott and Hannah had destroyed me. Because Dad was dating Trisha and Ian actually liked her.
Or because my mom had become a stranger and I didn’t know if she ever even thought about us.
I realized Zac was talking as he rubbed a hand over the back of my head and I choked down a sob.
“Sorry,” he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
I tilted my face up to look at him. He gazed back at me, his expression soft. He swept his thumb over my cheek, wiping away tears. I closed my eyes, leaning into the gentle touch of his hand.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his breath hot on my cheek.
When I opened my eyes, he was so close, his nose barely an inch from mine. If I leaned forward only slightly, my lips would brush his.
I pulled back and put some distance between us. My body missed the warmth of his and I had the urge to settle back into his embrace. But I fought it down as I wiped at my cheeks.
“It’s okay.” My voice sounded deeper and crackling after my crying.
“I didn’t know you had such bad stage fright,” Zac said. “I wouldn’t have asked you up there if I’d known.”
I shook my head, but it would be hard to explain to Zac why I’d reacted the way I had. So I changed the subject. “Sorry for getting snot all over your shirt.”
Zac shrugged. “A little snot never hurt.”
“And sorry for ruining your routine.”
“You didn’t ruin it. If anything, people will talk about me more now. The guy with the friend who freaked out. Any publicity is good in my book.”
I cringed. I did not freak out like that, not in front of people. Reactions like that were best kept behind closed doors where no one could see them. I was humiliated that Zac had seen me like this, crying and acting like a crazy person.
“Maybe I should go home,” I said, taking a step back toward the safety of my car.
“And leave me stranded?” Zac asked, reminding me that I was his ride. “No way. We have to go get slushies before going home.”
“I’m not in the mood for a slushie.”
“Not in the mood for a slushie? That’s impossible. Any time is perfect for a slushie. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
He clasped his hands together, pleading with me to agree to a slushie. He looked so pathetic, with those big brown eyes staring at me and his lower lip poked out.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Slushies, then we’re going home and going to bed like normal people.” I realized what I’d said and added, “To our separate homes and separate beds, I mean.”
“You put a lot of emphasis on what ‘normal’ people are expected to do,” Zac said once we