Page 88 of The Comeback Pact

“We lead different lives,” the woman argues.

I lean toward the TV, engrossed by the Hallmark-like movie.

“And I said that’s stupid.”

“No, you’re being naïve.”

Say it girl.It’s like he’s the devil on my shoulder, and she’s the rational part of my brain. I bet he works for some major company in the city that goes directly against what she believes in.

He walks toward her, grabbing her hands.

Oh…I stand up straighter. The look in his eyes. He’s determined, I can tell. For a moment, I picture me and West, and my heart begins to hammer.

“You’ve changed my life. What if I don’t want to be that person anymore? I don’t care where we live, I just want to be with you.”

Aww.My eyes start to tear.

The girl is waffling, I can see it. My hand grips the remote tighter…

And then my phone rings.

I gasp at the intrusion, and then lean forward.Sydneyscrolls across the screen, so I hurry to pick it up. “SOS,” she says as soon as I have the phone to my ear. “I forgot my glitter scrunchies in my room!” The stress in her voice bleeds through. “If I don’t have them, it’s going to completely throw off my outfit. Please, Kenna, I beg you.”

“Whoa, okay. No problem. Glitter scrunchies, I got it.”

I’m already moving toward her room when she says, “Go to the east gate. They’re going to let you in, I gave them your name, so just make sure you have your student ID with you.”

“You got it,” I tell her, scanning her room. It’s no wonder that she forgot her glitter scrunchies. It looks like her closet threw up in here.

“Hurry, please!”

“On it,” I tell her as I start throwing clothes around. She hangs up, and I shove my phone in my back pocket while I search. I finally find them on her dresser, which had not only clothes on it but her bathroom towel.

I grab the scrunchies and stuff them in my pocket. A pang of guilt hits me that I kept her up last night talking about West when she was obviously super nervous about today. I grab my keys and head outside. A sea of royal blue hits me. Banners on cars. People walking with our school colors. What a madhouse.

Before I leave, I check my small purse to make sure my ID is in there, and then I take off, dodging people as I go. The closer I get to campus, the stronger the smell of food wafts my way. Smoke and charcoal. Delicious barbecue. I’ve never seen the stadium area so busy. I’ve always avoided homecoming like the plague, and now I remember why. It’s a madhouse.

I’m forced to walk once I get closer to the east gate, the area is so packed. To my right, the cheerleaders are rallying the onlookers into the Bulldog fight song, blue and white striped cones pressed against their mouths. “Fight, fight, fight!”

My mom told me never to budge a line, but I make an exception for today. I bypass as many people as I can until I get to the east gate attendant, who looks at me annoyedly. Before she can send me to the back of the line, I say, “Kenna Knowles. I’m here for the halftime show performer.”

She nods. “ID?”

I pull it out of my wallet and show it to her. She stamps a big blue dot on my hand. “No reentry.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, taking off again. It’s almost worse inside the stadium. The food vendors are lined against the wall. People are walking around, looking for their seats or just plain meandering. The smell of popcorn is overwhelming, and because of all the buzz, I almost don’t hear my name being called.

A guy holds on to a metal exit door and waves at me. He’s wearing a bright-gold shirt that saysStadium Staffon it. I recognize him as someone Sydney introduced me to briefly once.

I head his way, speed walking, and he rushes me through a back tunnel, shutting the door behind him. “Thank God you made it. Sydney’s a wreck.”

“She has nervous energy on a good day,” I tell him with a smile.

Sweat dots his temples as he shakes his head. It sounds like Sydney is being a handful, but I never expected anything less.

“Do you want to see her first, and then you can take your seat?”

“Oh, I don’t have a ticket.”

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