After a moment, I said, “I didn’t know you do Gandalf. That’s one of my favorites.”
Ash chucked the stick back to where it’d come from, sauntering over with a grin. “It’s nothing.”
“No, that was awesome. Wasn’t it Becks?” I turned but Becks wasn’t there anymore. He’d rejoined the team on the field. The whistle blew and the coach called the stragglers back to practice.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ash said, but I did. I couldn’t help it.
Mount Tabor went down fighting, but between Becks and Ash, there was no contest. I’d waited until after school to approach Becks and congratulate him. He’d been surrounded all day. It was Becks’s senior year, and he was in a good way to get State MVP and win yet another championship. Some athletes crumbled beneath the pressure but not my Becks. I was so proud of him; I could barely see straight.
After Roxy finally left (she’d been talking his ear off, flashing him her cleavage for about fifteen minutes), I walked over to Becks, finding him in one of those rare moments that he was alone.
He’d zipped his bag, and I’d opened my mouth, wearing a smile just for him, when he said, “If this is about Stryker, I don’t want to hear it.”
I recoiled. “I just came over to say great job,” I said. “You did it, Becks. CHS has a chance at State, third year in a row.”
“Thanks, I know,” he said. “Was there something else?”
“No.” Again, I was taken aback. Who was this cold person, and what had they done with my Becks? “I’m…I’m proud of you. That’s all.”
Becks looked at me for a long moment.
“Ash said you guys are likely to win if you can—”
“If you’re going to talk about Ash, don’t talk to me.”
“Becks…”
“See ya,” he said, turning away. No Sal, no grin, nothing.
Ash came up behind me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, Spitz, want to go to a party tonight?”
I was too numb to speak, so instead I listened to Ash as he invited me to another one of Mercedes’s parties. It was supposed to be bigger and better than any of the others so far, a real celebration since Chariot had made it to the final round. He said that everyone was going. I must’ve agreed, though I definitely didn’t remember doing so.
Hooker had come to my house to fix my hair and make-up, and Ash drove us to Mercedes’s house. We got there late, the party already half-over when we arrived. That was mostly my doing. I’d taken a lot of time getting ready, so I wouldn’t have to stay long. Ash hadn’t minded. “Just an appearance,” he’d said. “We’ll just make an appearance then leave.” I was still wary. My last visit to Mercedes’s house had ended in heartbreak, tears, and a lot of German swearing. I was determined not to let that happen again.
But the first thing I saw when I walked inside was Becks sitting slumped between two girls I’d never met before. They were both smiling, happy as all get out to be that close to the man that was going to lead Chariot to its next victory.
The sight made my anger rise—not at them, but at myself.
Becks looked horrible. His eyes were downcast, his beard looked a little rougher than usual, and his head drooped on his shoulders. Was this what having a boyfriend meant? Leaving all my other friends behind? I didn’t even know what was bothering him. Seeing him in that state made me hate myself a little.
“I’m going to go get myself something to drink,” Ash said into my ear, “you want anything?”
I shook my head.
“Be right back.” He dashed off without another word.
As if he’d been waiting for Ash to leave, Becks lifted his head, his eyes going straight to mine. What had put that sadness there? I wondered as he rose and walked up to me.
“Sal,” he said, voice soft.
“Becks.”
“You want to dance?”
“Sure,” I said, taking his hand. The contact still sent tingles running through me.
We made our way to the center of the living room where other couples were already dancing. I hardly noticed. After Becks put his hands on my waist, my arms reaching up to twine around his neck, I was gone. It was just him and me. Nothing else mattered.
“Sorry about earlier,” he said.
“That’s okay.” I rested my cheek against his chest and felt the strong beat of his heart, steady, sure. “I’m sorry you’re so sad,” I said quietly.
Becks sighed, pulling me closer. “I’m not sad, Sal.”
“You’re not?”
After a moment, Becks whispered, “I miss you.”