and I usually go as friends.”
Zara and I gave each other a look.
“When are you and Carson going to admit you’re in love?” I asked.
Callie’s cheeks turned bright pink. “I’m not in love with Carson.”
“Uh-huh,” Zara said.
“I’m not,” she asserted. “I’ll have you know I happen to like someone else.”
The light tone in her voice did nothing to soften her deepening blush.
Like she’d become a magnet, we each leaned in closer, desperate to hear the news.
“Who?” Jordan asked, voicing each of our questions.
Callie looked around before whispering, “It’s my brother’s best friend.”
“The college guy?” Zara let out an excited squeal. “You are bad!”
Callie nodded sheepishly, then groaned. “He hardly even knows I exist outside of being Jacob’s kid sister.”
Rory waggled her eyebrows. “We can change that. I owe you guys for helping set me up with Beckett.”
“No, no, no,” Callie said. “It’s probably best to leave it as a fantasy.”
Seeming disappointed, Rory turned to me. “What about you? I’m guessing you’re not going with Ray.”
I snorted. “Not if you paid me.”
Jordan lifted her chin. “He’s just being petty because Ginger’s an awesome videographer and he’s learning how much he pales in comparison.”
“No, because I can’t even come up with a good idea for this video.” I looked down at my freckled hands gripping my backpack straps.
Callie put a comforting hand on my arm. “Don’t let him make you question yourself.”
“Exactly,” Zara said. “You’re a bomb videographer, and you’re going places—with or without his approval.”
The bell rang, and as we parted ways, I remembered something Jordan said. “What was the other news you had?”
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “My mom got her first check from YouTube.”
I grinned back at her, just as excited. “No way! That’s awesome! Was it massive?” We’d started her mom’s channel on cleaning tips a little bit more than a month ago, and she’d quickly taken off.
Blushing, Jordan said quietly, “It replaced her old income and then some.”
“This is only the beginning,” I said. “You two keep up with your videos, and you won’t believe how well it goes.”
“Thank you for helping us so much,” Jordan answered, her deep brown eyes wide. “We couldn’t have pulled it off without you. And you know my mom signed up for a course on how to create online courses and trainings? She’s never even gone to college, but she’s pushing herself to learn more, with or without a degree. I’m so proud of her.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” I couldn’t believe how much had changed for them in only a few months.
She rubbed my shoulder. “It’s all because of you. You helped her dream again.”
My eyes stung, even as I smiled wide. I loved helping them out of their hard place. Loved that Jordan’s mom was making a name for herself that she so deserved.
“Don’t cry,” Jordan said, sounding concerned.
I wiped at my eyes. “I’m just so—”
Merritt crossed in front of us. “I’d cry too if I had a body like yours.” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she continued down the hall with her two friends.
Jordan and I gave each other a look as we reached the doorway to Mr. Davis’s classroom.
“Where’s her broomstick?” I asked.
Jordan made her voice sound all light and airy in an imitation of Merritt. “It’s at the dry cleaners.”
Laughing, I shook my head.
A disgruntled voice came from behind us. “Can I get into class?”
“Oh, sorry—” I began, stepping out of the way, but then I saw the source of the complaint. Did Ray only have one setting? Or was he just permanently stuck on rude?
After he passed, Jordan widened her eyes and whispered, “Okay, he seriously needs to chill.”
“Right?” I muttered and went to my regular seat at the computer nearest the whiteboard. Jordan sat down next to me, and we bent over our backpacks, getting out our notes.
Mr. Davis came into the room from the adjoining AV room and said, “Sit with your partners, class.”
Jordan and I frowned at each other before getting up from our chairs. Of course Ray was waiting with his chiseled face set into a frown. Why did he look so hot when he was frowning, yet I only ended up looking like a bulldog. Did he have to have all the luck?
“Let’s hear your ideas,” he said without preamble.
“I’ve given all the ideas so far. You first.”
He glanced up from his notebook with an even expression and deadpanned, “A day in the life of a snob. A day in the life of a propaganda promoter. A day in the life