Page 30 of Between Love and War
I demonstrate it by dribbling an imaginary ball while patting my head. Justin giggles. “When did you get good?”
“I don’t remember. I just didn’t think about it. It doesn’t matter if you’re the best or if you look silly sometimes. Basketball’s supposed to be fun. You play, you laugh, you try again. That’s how you get better without even noticing.”
Justin nods, grinning so hard his ears practically wiggle. I ruffle his hair. “If the ball bounces off me, it’s okay?” he asks.
“Of course. We’ll run after it together.”
He gives me a fist bump and runs back to his chair, just as everyone starts to wake up from nap time.
I stand, brushing off my knees, and glance across the room. My eyes make contact with Kate’s. She’s watching with arms folded and gaze intense.
The second I catch her, she snaps her gaze away and pretends to be busy wiping the paint off her.
And that makes me grin, too.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kate
“Katherine, this is you.”
Bon slides into the booth at the Corner Bistro, nearly knocking over the ketchup bottle with her elbow. Today is Saturday, my day of seclusion. Her phone is already in my face before I can finish chewing what might be the world’s crispiest grilled cheese.
“It’s trending everywhere.” I take my glasses off and wipe it with my dress, only to squint at the phone Bon is thrusting toward my face (shakily, if I may add). I hold her wrist to keep the phone in place, and then I see the photo. It’s a photo of the school hallway, with my very obvious head poking out.
“Okay?” I ask.
“People are calling you Michael Lee’s secret girlfriend.”
“What?” I snatch the phone away from her hand. At first I didn’t know what the big deal was. So Michael posted a photo of the hallway. Then I remember that he’s not a normal citizen. It’s hard to remember that he’s a major celebrity sometimes. He seems so… normal.
Sure enough, there it is. “‘Mystery Girl with the Curls,’” I read aloud. “‘Michael Lee soft launches new flame? Let’s investigate.’ They’re writing think pieces about myhair,Bon. My hair.”
“Well, it is aggressively curly,” she says, lifting a few strands of my hair.
I groan and slump over my grilled cheese. “This is why I should never leave my classroom. Or peek out of doors. Or have hair.”
“Chill,” she says. “It’s not like they know it’s you. And it’s not like they know where you live. It’ll die down like most gossip does.” She takes the sandwich in my hand and bites it. I don’t even care anymore. My mind is spiraling.
“Sorry, Bon, I have to go,” I say hastily.
“What are you gonna do?” she asks, like she’s not sure if I’m going to really do something about this issue.
“Nothing, just forgot to drop off my pastries at Lily’s.” Lie. Thankfully, Bon doesn’t call me out. She just leans back and finishes my grilled cheese. I bolt out of the bistro, my brain firing off a million worst-case scenarios as I go.
Outside, it’s exactly fifty-three degrees Celsius. Okay, maybe notexactly, but close enough that my bra has started a small rebellion against my skin. The Philippines in November is not the cool, breezy season our elementary school textbooks promised. Just the same sweaty, sticky climate with slightly more Christmas lights.
As I speed walk, I can’t help but smile at neighbors and wave at kids playing hopscotch near our house. I can’t help it. They’re nice to me, I’m nice back. If they’re mean to me, I’ll probably be nice still.
Unless your name is Michael Lee.
I approach his house, meaning to knock at the front door. But then, for absolutely no reason at all except for muscle memory, I sneak into the backyard.
The gate creaks as I slip in. I scan the perimeter like I expect lasers or a motion sensor to go off. Nothing. Just some potted plants, a basketball, and a garden gnome that’s seen better days. I run across the grass until I make it to the patio and plant myself in the shade.
And that’s when I hear it.
“You’re trespassing again, Katie.” Michael’s voice comes from behind me, and I whirl to see him wearing gym shorts and a baseball cap. No other articles of clothing.
