Page 6 of The Pass
I give her a death stare and she nudges me with her elbow. “What happened with you two the other night?”
“Nothing really. He showed me the gym, we played basketball, and then you were there for the rest.”
“That’s it?” She seems disappointed. Me too, girl. Me too.
“He asked for my number.”
Her eyes widen. “Did he text?”
“I didn’t give it to him, but I got his.”
“Wait.” She stops. “He asked for your number and you told him no? Are you crazy? You’ve been completely hung up on this guy for over a year.”
Okay, so obviously I haven’t played it cool.
“If I’d given him my number and he hadn’t called I’d be disappointed or worse, sitting around waiting and hoping he’d call. This way I have the power.” Power I now realize that I don’t want.
“I guess. So, what did you say when you texted him?”
“I haven’t yet.”
“Oh.” She blows out a breath. “Why not? He isn’t the kind of guy you play hard to get with.”
We fall back into step heading to our communications class. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach that I’ve screwed this up. Tanner can get any girl he wants. Excited, eager girls who don’t hesitate when he asks for their number.
My stomach is queasy when we push into the auditorium and I spot Tanner in his usual seat. I stare at my feet as Emily and I pass by, but I can feel the moment his gaze lands on me. I can’t help it. I look up and meet his stare. He smiles and a little bit of the uneasiness fades.
Professor Sanchez starts just as I sit. I steal another quick glance at Tanner, his eyes still on me, and then pull out my notebook and my phone.
I start out jotting down notes for the group project that was assigned last class, but five minutes in, I’m scrolling through my phone and looking for Tanner in my contacts. When I find him, I click on his number and create a new message.
Me: Hey, it’s Sydney.
Power reassigned.
Setting my phone down, I don’t dare look back to see if he’s checking his phone. Maybe he doesn’t even bring it to—
My heart skips when a new message lights up the screen.
Tanner: Hey! Forty-eight hours... I thought you were never going to text.
Me: More like thirty-three hours.
Tanner: Thirty-three too many. What are you up to tonight? Want to hang out?
It feelslike we’re volleying back and forth and I just want him to keep the ball on his side of the net. I’m not usually one to back down or shy away from a good back and forth, but Tanner makes me feel all spun up and out of sorts. I’m too into him and I really hate that.
Me: Free after practice. Sounds fun.
Tanner: Shit, I forgot we have a team dinner tonight. Maybe this weekend?
Me: Maybe.
3
Tanner
I’m hangingin the theater room, texting around to see what’s going on tonight, when Nathan pops in. “Hey, what are you doing later?”
