closer before resuming our position. The music was long forgotten now. “I’m so proud of you, Beckett!”
The smile that crossed his face was pure and unfiltered. I loved seeing him this way. “That means the world, Cupcake.”
“Good,” I breathed. “Because you mean the world to me.”
As Beckett and I resumed our dance, I reveled in this wonderful world—one where two hearts could find each other. Where the curvy girl and the quarterback could realize they had more in common than they ever expected. One where I realized I could fall in love—with him, and even more surprisingly, myself.
Epilogue
Jordan
Rory and Beckett were so cute together. Back when the girls and I started our plans for Beckett to fall for Rory, part of me thought he would be just like every other popular, rich high school guy. The kind who only looked at girls on the surface and only wanted the physical stuff out of a relationship. But then again, I’d dated a college guy, and he’d ripped my heart to shreds just as thoroughly as any high school guy could.
I had worried Beckett wouldn’t take a second look past Rory’s size and into her heart like I thought my ex had done for me. Even though Rory kept it to herself, I knew she had a good heart. I had seen all the sweet things she did when she thought no one was looking—like picking up stray pieces of trash in the hallway or helping if someone dropped their books.
As Ginger, Zara, Callie, and I walked away from the AV room, I could still hear the music playing softly. The plan was to work on homework here while they had their “homecoming dance” and then do the teardown. Luckily, I had the night free from helping Mom with her new custodial service—JJ Cleaning.
It was sweet of her to name the company after the two of us—Jacinda and Jordan Junco—but to me, it was just another reminder of how out of place I was at Emerson Academy. Sure, the school uniforms were designed to make us appear the same, but no one saw how many nights Mom and I had to eat ramen at home to make up for the exorbitant cost of clothes through the special distributor the school had chosen. Not to mention all the work we did just to make ends meet and pay back medical bills.
I knew I was lucky to have a scholarship that covered my tuition, but sometimes, it felt like wearing golden handcuffs while the rest of me was done up with drugstore beauty products.
Zara bumped my arm at our lockers. “Jordan?”
The way she said it made me feel like I’d missed my name being spoken a few times already.
“Sorry, yeah?” I said. “Yes, I mean.” I’d been trying to stay away from the Chicano way all my public-school friends talked. It just didn’t fit at Emerson Academy. I didn’t fit at Emerson Academy.
“Can you compare your trig assignment to mine?” she asked.
“Sure,” I answered. “I need to double-check my work anyway.”
“Me too,” Ginger added. “You’re so lucky you don’t have trig, Callie.”
Callie didn’t argue.
After Zara grabbed her books, we walked together to my locker, and they waited while I retrieved my trig folder and textbook. I’d bought the book used, and it showed. I couldn’t help but eye Zara’s brand-new edition with envy.
We started back toward the gym, which was always left open for athletes who wanted to stay around and exercise and students who wanted to stay and do homework. Ad meliora, all the way, even if it meant zero sleep and presidential-level stress.
But I had no doubt the hard work was worth it. People who graduated from Emerson didn’t just go to Yale and disappear. There were presidents, diplomats, famous actors, producers—you name it. I wanted to be one of the successful people. The kind who lifted my entire family out of poverty, just like my mom was trying to do with her business.
Music poured through the closed door of the music room, enveloping our group with haunting and wistful violin notes.
I paused, and the other girls followed suit. The window to the music room was open, but whoever played was at the front, only our music teacher in the room with them. Her eyes were closed, listening.
“Who is it?” I asked.
Zara shrugged, and Ginger did the same.
We turned to Callie, since she was in the band. “My guess is Kai Rush,” she said. “He’s first chair violin for orchestra.”
My expression immediately