to voice mail. I swipe my finger across the screen and then roll off the bed and head to my bathroom for more privacy. I sit on the edge of the tub.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry. It’s too much to text.”
“You’re kind of freaking me out with all the innuendos.”
“Oh. No, it’s all good. Don’t be nervous. I just should have said this to you in person.” Miller inhales a deep breath, and then on the exhale, he starts talking. “When I was fifteen, I watched you in a school play. You had the lead role, and at one point, you performed a monologue that went on for like two whole minutes. You were so convincing and you looked so heartbroken I was ready to walk onto the stage and hug you. When the play was finally over and the actors came back out onto the stage, you were smiling and laughing, and there wasn’t a trace of that character left in you. I was in awe, Clara. You have this charisma about you that I don’t think you’re aware of, but it’s captivating. I was a scrawny kid as a sophomore, and even though I’m a year older than you, I hadn’t quite filled out yet, and I had acne and felt inferior to you, so I never worked up the courage to approach you. Another year went by, and I continued to admire you from afar. Like that time you ran for school treasurer and tripped walking off the stage, but you jumped up and did this weird little kick and threw your arms up in the air and made the entire audience laugh. Or that time Mark Avery popped your bra strap in the hallway, and you were so sick of him doing it that you followed him to his classroom, reached inside your hoodie, and took off your bra and then threw it at him. I remember you yelling something like, ‘If you want to touch a bra so damn bad, just keep it, you perv!’ Then you stormed out. It was epic. Everything you do is epic, Clara. Which is why I never had the courage to approach you, because an epic girl needs an equally epic guy, and I guess I’ve just never felt epic enough for you. I’ve said epic so many times in the last fifteen seconds—I’m so sorry.”
He’s out of breath when he finally stops talking.
I’m smiling so hard my cheeks ache. I had no idea he felt this way. No idea.
I wait a few seconds to make sure he’s done; then I finally respond. I’m pretty sure he can hear from my voice alone that I’m smiling. “First of all, it’s hard to believe you were ever insecure. And second, I think you’re pretty epic, too, Miller. Always have. Even when you were scrawny and had acne.”
He laughs a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I can hear him sigh. “Glad I got that off my chest, then. See you at school tomorrow?”
“Good night.”
We end the call, and I don’t know how long I sit and stare at my phone. I can’t even process the gravity of this. He actually has real feelings for me. He’s had feelings for me. I can’t believe I’ve been so oblivious to it.
I eventually unlock my screen because I need to call Aunt Jenny and tell her every bit of that conversation. I’m scrolling through my contacts when it hits me.
I can’t call her. I can never call her again.
When is that finally going to sink in?
Lexie doesn’t even have a chance to fasten her seat belt before I assault her with the news. “I kissed Miller Adams, and I think maybe we’re a thing now.”
“Wow. Okay,” she says, nodding. “But . . . what about Shelby?”
“He broke up with her two weeks ago.”
She takes a moment to let this sink in. I back out of her driveway, and she’s staring forward, thinking hard about it. Then she looks at me and says, “I don’t know, Clara. Seems a little quick, like maybe it’s a rebound.”
“I know. I kind of thought the same thing, but it doesn’t feel that way at all. I can’t explain it, but . . . I don’t know. I get the feeling he didn’t have this kind of connection with Shelby.”
I can feel her giving me a look. “I’m your friend, so I feel the need to say this, but you sound kind of crazy right now. He dated Shelby for an entire year. You