Page 74 of I Knew You Were Trouble

Tanner nods, his face impassive. “And this morning.”

“What do you mean?” I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but my curiosity wins out. What did he see this morning?

He lets out a giant breath and finally looks my way. “She was bouncing off the walls. And singing. Very badly, I might add. Woke me right up.”

I chuckle at the imagery, pride swelling in my chest. It’s not like we did much last night. I was a little disappointed to wake up without her hand in mine and the other side of our pillow barrier empty. I figured she was too embarrassed to stay there, but maybe it was just Candace being Candace, waking up early.

“See?” Maddie says after a beat. “What are you so worried about? The sooner you tell her, the sooner you guys can kiss whenever you want.”

She doesn’t know the most complicated part—the part that holds me back. Am I the second choice? Zach was a no go, so here, take Pete. Maddie might be sure of how Candace feels, but I’m not.

The intercom crackles to life, and Josh’s voice booms across the indoor amusement park. “Hey Troublemakers, it’s closing time. Thanks for making trouble with us, and come again soon.”

Maddie drops her board to the ground and grins. “Here’s your chance. She’s in the arcade tonight, right?”

I nod.

“I’ll help Tanner close up, and you go talk to her. Please.”

“And if she laughs in my face?”

“She won’t.”

“If she does.”

“Then I’ll ask her out,” Tanner jumps in. He’s joking, a smirk curling his lips, but I know exactly what he’s saying. I doubt he was all that thrilled to be a part of this conversation, and he’s in the same position I was in last night—watching a fool not take a chance with an amazing girl.

I take my hat off and run a hand over my head. I won’t be that fool. If she laughs in my face, she’ll at least know that there’s one person who loves her for who she is and not who she’s pretending to be. That’ll be worth it to me.

Pete

I jog over to the arcade, taking the steps two at a time up to the blinking lights and booming music from the machines. Patrons climb down opposite me, heading toward the exit. Guess most people were in this zone tonight; ours was empty except for Maddie.

I catch my breath when I hit the top step, scanning through the games for Candace’s red shirt and reddish ponytail. Aislynn’s behind the redemption area, and she pops up from behind the counter, her pink hair fraying out from underneath her hat. She waves, and I mouth, “Where’s Candace?” It’ll be pointless to shout with all the noise.

She jabs a finger to the back corner and mouths, “Skeeball.” I rush over there before I lose my nerve.

I got no clue what to say or how to say it, and I’m praying that whatever spews from my mouth is more articulate than what I said to her last night.

I weave through the ticket games, past the racing games, and find her crouched in front of the middle Skeeball, the metal front where the card reader rests propped open. The closer I get, the more I hear her grumbles.

“Stupid, son of a b-word…”

“Giving you trouble?” I kick my foot up on the Skeeball lane. Her shoulders jerk with the surprise of my arrival, but her eyes brighten when she looks up.

“Hey. I actually need to talk to you.”

“You want me to fix it?” The Skeeball reader is notorious for going out, and we’re all trained, but some of us are better at getting it back up than others.

She’s better than I am, and we both know it, so she ignores my lame attempt at a joke.

She locks the game up and rises from her crouch. Grease stains her forefinger. She actually let herself get messy.

Or she doesn’t know.

Yeah, I’m going with that one.

“So, I know we only agreed on a month of lessons, but humor me for a second,” she says, diving in before I get a word in edgewise.

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