The Easy Part of Impossible - Sarah Tomp Page 0,9

stood in the driveway, near his mother’s sedan. “Come closer. I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” She laughed, then shifted so he would be the one leaning against the car. She hated being trapped without a getaway route. Not that he’d given her any reason to need one. He knew he was her first boyfriend, and he’d been nothing but sweet. He’d put up with her weird and limited schedule. Understood when she was too tired and sore to go out.

Now, she let him pull her close. He kissed her, gently at first, but quickly warming up to where they’d left off the last time they’d been together. He locked his hips on hers, let her feel how much he liked this. She liked it too. She was curious what was on the other side of all this kissing and touching, but she also knew Sean had rules about what and when and how, only he hadn’t explained them yet. And now he kept bumping her bruised chin with his.

The outside light flashed on, off, then on, above them.

“I guess I better go.” His voice sounded raspy and deep.

“I guess so.” She slipped out of his reach.

“Senior year is going to be better than you think.” He grinned and played with her hair. “You’ll look back on it and see how I was right.”

“So I should look forward to how I’ll look back?”

“What?”

“Forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow—at the Senior Roost.” She kissed him, then opened his door, sending him on his way.

Looking forward, looking backward, anytime looked better than right now.

Six

The first day of school was always about seeing and being seen. Who was wearing what. Who’d lost or gained weight over the summer. New tats and piercings. The status of romances—breakups and hookups. Figuring out who’s in what class and when. Where paths cross. Anticipation. Senior year was all that, on steroids.

As soon as Ria walked through the doorway to school, she knew she’d worn the wrong thing. Gym shorts or yoga pants along with dive T-shirts had always been her uniform. Here at school, she liked to be anonymous. Invisible. For today she’d let Maggie talk her into wearing a sundress, skimpy and slinky, an explosion of color. In her bedroom, with only her reflection to judge, the dress had felt right. Looked sexy. Now, in the loud and crowded space, it felt too tight and too bright. Aware of being seen, she touched her chin in reflex, even though she knew the bruise was barely noticeable under makeup, especially if she kept her head tilted.

“You look hot.” Sean sidled up close, keeping one arm behind him. It was clear he had something hidden back there. He was big on surprises. Knowing one was coming was both better and worse. Then he frowned. “You always flinch when I come near you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I think it’s because of diving.”

“What?”

Ria stepped back. Her cheeks flushed. Just because he’d been at the pool, sitting in his lifeguard chair, being useless and irrelevant, didn’t mean he knew everything. Or anything.

“It’s okay. I understand. It’s just hard for you to relax now after working so hard for so long.”

“I’m fine. I’m good. Great.” She grabbed his belt loop, shaking off the feeling she’d been blindsided.

“Okay, good, great. I brought you something.” He swung his arm out from behind his back, presenting her with a bouquet of flowers. Before she could thank him or even get a decent hold of them, he kissed her in front of all his friends.

A chorus of “Ooooh” broke out around them. Someone coughed the word “whipped.” Sean grinned. He bumped fists with his friends, making the rounds, leaving her to watch and wonder if the kiss had been for her or for them.

Maggie appeared at her side, smelling of shampoo and lotion. She greeted everyone with that comfortable way of hers.

Ria tugged her wet ponytail and said, “Did you wake up late?”

“I had practice.”

“You had a morning workout? Today?” Practice on the first day of school was hard-core, even for Benny.

“It was a one-on-one. I want to get my gainer solid.”

“Right,” said Ria. But it wasn’t. Maggie’s parents never paid extra for diving. The possibility of an Uden scholarship must have influence. She hoped it was worth it. It felt like too little, too late. She sniffed the flowers in her hand. They already looked bored and wistful.

“This is for you, too.” Maggie handed her a small silver thermos.

She opened it and was hit with the smell of

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