Chapter 6

Cross-country. One of Ellison’s many clubs, and guys and girls are already warming up on the track, drawing the attention of new students trying to decide which sports club to join.

It’s interesting here, the runners are friendly, and I’m glad I can capture my best friend in peak form at the start of preparation for the fall competitions.

“Hey, Jenkins! You look amazing, babe! Say cheeese!”

Running past in short shorts and a tank top, Trisha smiles and waves at me.

Amber asks the team coach, Miss Gonzalez, a few questions, after which I take a group shot of the team for posterity, and we can move on.

Table tennis isn’t as popular among upperclassmen as cross-country, and right now only one of the six tables in the special area is occupied. Just four students have gathered around it—two girls and two guys—and Couch and I let Phoebe ask them, with great seriousness, what they think about that.

“I don’t think anything about it!” answers a heavyset guy in an enormous sweatshirt, while one of the girls, a pretty Chinese girl, shows him how to hold the paddle properly. “Honestly, I don’t care at all. I’m planning to just have a good time, and Jen promised to teach me everything!”

“But don’t you want to share the spirit of competition with someone?” Phoebe asks, bewildered, trying at the same time to handle her nerves and not drop the notebook from her trembling hand. “Find like-minded people and build a strong team. Don’t you want to take part in competitions and bring glory to the club?”

“Ha! Why? So I can lose? No, I’m not stupid, kid. If you’re looking for glory, I’m definitely not your guy.”

Thrown off, Phoebe opens her mouth soundlessly, and Amber and I drag her along with us, promising we’ll come back to tennis later.

The chess club goes smoothly. There are about a dozen students here, and once again I manage with a couple of shots while Amber records a few sentences for the piece into her recorder, and then we can move on.

“So, Ashley, are you ready?” my friend asks with concern when we return to the stadium and head down the path toward the part where the lacrosse team is practicing and the guys can be seen crossing part of the field in short bursts. “We’re about to go up to the coach, and just forget about Renton. Old hag Moran will eat us alive if we don’t write anything about the new Golden Eagles season. They’re everyone’s favorites, so you know what people expect from us.”

“I’m fine, Ambi, don’t worry,” I hurry to reassure Couch, even managing a smirk. “I definitely won’t have time right now to think about my ex-boyfriend or our past relationship. I think Sean himself isn’t exactly dying to talk to me, or it would have happened already. And I definitely don’t need his explanations when everything is clear without words.”

“You know, if he acts like he doesn’t know you even now, it won’t be even remotely funny,” she says with a frown. “Everyone here saw you together and knows you dated. I still think only total assholes act like that. I don’t understand how Renton ever seemed like a normal guy to me. He spent six months wanting to date you. Asked me to introduce you, remember? Why? So he could dump you later for empty-headed Kate? Idiot. And after that, we’re supposed to trust guys?”

I’m not planning to trust anyone anymore either, and I don’t want to get upset. This day will end someday, school will end, and all of today’s pain, along with the mockery, will seem to me like something not worth even the smallest corner of my memory.

“Amber, I know why we’re here and what people expect from us. Don’t worry about me. Just do the interview, and I’ll take the pictures. Nothing unusual. It’s not our first time. I didn’t sit around doing nothing this summer. I took a course on the latest photography techniques. I promise Baker will be happy with us.”

Phoebe, still not letting go of her notebook, has been walking behind us this whole time, confusedly tucking her short light-brown curls behind her ears. But when she hears her new boss’s last name, she perks up and catches up to us.

“Girls, do you know if Baker is dating anyone? Does he have a girlfriend?”

My mind isn’t the only one occupied with something else. Amber’s is too. The question makes my friend and me exchange a look and turn with curiosity toward the new intern.

“Why? Do you like him?” I ask, though there’s nothing surprising about that. Zachary is an attractive guy.

“Well, I don’t know,” Phoebe says, not even thinking of getting embarrassed as she shrugs. “I haven’t figured it out yet, but he’s cute and looks like the actor Ricky Kim. Tall, with a good body. So does he have anyone?” she repeats, looking at us with interest. “Just please don’t tell me he’s gay.”

“No, he’s not gay,” I snort, and I’m just about to tell her that Zachary doesn’t seem to have a girlfriend when Amber suddenly declares:

“Me!”

She strides calmly along the asphalt path, swinging her white-and-pink braids, and only when she sees our stunned faces—mine wearing a confused “what is happening?” expression and Phoebe’s disappointed “I knew it!”—does she start laughing.

She bumps the sophomore with her shoulder, winks at her, and finishes:

“I could be, if Zack liked curvy girls! But sadly, he has no taste at all. Or he hides it really well.”

Oh God. All I can do is smile.

Impossible Couch. But that personality is exactly why I love her.

She manages to throw Phoebe off balance and lift my mood, and we approach Coach Hurley without extra nerves, ready to do our job.