Page 38 of Every Hidden Truth

I burst into disbelieving laughter. “You mean winter dance? We’re not going to that.” I glanced at Ben, disappointed at the lack of amusement I expected.

“You don’t want to?” He cocked his head to the side, curious.

I sobered quickly. “W-what?”

“The dance? You don’t want to go?”

Was he serious or fucking with me?

I faced him head-on, smothering my bewildered laughter. “Wait, you do?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

My jaw dropped. “Are you insane? The dance committee would drive us off with torches and pitchforks, and we’d probably give the principal a heart attack.”

“You realize nobody actually cares, right?”

I tore off a piece of chicken and dunked it viciously in ranch. “They’d probably stone us.”

“Weren’t you just talking about starting a queer club at this very school?”

“Yeah, for queer people and allies. Not everyone else!”

Irritation colored his face. “You know, eventually, you’ll have to get over this complex of yours, right?”

“Complex?”

“You don’t want to go to the dance? Fine. But don’t blame it on other people.” He waved his hand around the room, his tone clipped. “No one gives a shit whether we go together or not. So stop pretending like we’ll get burned at the stake and you’re somehow doing me a favor.”

He stabbed his spaghetti violently with his fork, and the table fell into awkward silence. Harris stared at his plate as Kim and Caroline exchanged a heavy look. Jordan drummed his fingers on the table, and Ronnie did his best not to laugh outright.

As the back of my neck heated, I focused on my plate, no longer hungry. I felt like a child being scolded, and my defenses rose instinctively.

“Well, I don’t even dance,” I snapped after an uncomfortably long silence, and Ben’s shoulders slumped.

“Fine, then don’t go.” He fished his wallet from his pocket and retrieved two tickets, tossing them at Jordan. “Here, you still need to buy tickets, right?”

He’d bought us tickets?

Guilt assaulted me as Jordan saved the tickets from drowning in ketchup, mumbling a thanks. Kim and Caroline glared at me as Ben forced himself to eat, his face drawn.

Well, shit on a stick!

Swallowing my pride, I tentatively reached for his arm. “We can go, if you want.”

“It’s not a big deal, Silas.” He withdrew from my touch. “It’s just a dance. Don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t know you bought tickets.”

“It’s fine.”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s not fine. I didn’t know you wanted to go or that you made plans. I just… you could’ve just asked.”

The splotchy red on his cheeks leaked down his neck as he pushed his pasta around on his plate. “Well, I was going to—it doesn’t matter.”

A smile teased my lips at his sudden shyness as my fingers grazed over the back of his wrist. “You were going to do one of those lame, superfluous, asking-me-to-the-dance things, weren’t you?”

Embarrassed, he shrugged noncommittally.

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