As we pulled into Marcy's parking lot, I made a decision. I decided to zip my lips. Penny deserved the chance to come out in her own time—to Adam and to me. I would wait for her to open up.
This opened my eyes, though: Adam wasn't into dudes, and Penny was playing for the ladies' team. Major curveballs.
And then the guilt hit. Here I was, locking lips with BOTH Adam and Mr. Scott behind their backs. What a tangled web! Somehow, I had stumbled into my very own love triangle. The rom-com gods were laughing.
So we finally made it to Marcy's, this family joint that had been around forever, as ancient as Adam's grandpa's bookshop—the ultimate spot for family celebrations in our town, like, generations.
They had this huge table set up for eight, two small ones mashed together to make this long table. I kind of hesitated, not sure where to sit down after Mr. Scott laid one on me earlier. My emotions were all over the place. I needed a sec to process, but I was also steering clear of Adam because he'd totally catch on that something was off.
I decided to slip into a seat between Belle and Audrey, thinking they'd be like my shield from any questions or chitchat. They both shot me these curious looks as I settled in, but no words were exchanged.
Our parents took over the chat during most of the meal. Belle and Audrey were deep into talking about school and friends. Me? I just pushed my food around, stealing glances at Adam. He was kind of quiet too, laser-focused on dissecting his steak into tiny bits.
I worried that Adam might have seen Mr. Scott kissing me, but his serious expression didn't align with someone who witnessed something somewhat shocking, like a teacher kissing a student. If he did see it, he'd likely confront me, not silently stab his dinner.
And what if he saw Penny and Melissa kissing? Again, he wouldn't keep it to himself; he'd urgently tell me, not sit in silence. I sighed with relief; it seemed my secrets were safe for now. Whatever occupied Adam, it didn't involve knowledge of any kisses tonight.
Finally, the chatter and clinking of silverware died down as everyone finished eating. Chairs scraped back from the tables as families started their goodbyes. Mrs. Brown enveloped me in another quick hug before following my parents out to the parking lot, still immersed in conversation. Our cars were parked side-by-side.
Gathering my stuff, Audrey sidled up with a playful grin. "Lover's quarrel?" she teased, giving me a wink. Belle mirrored her grin.
I quickly caught on to their teasing about me not sitting next to Adam during dinner. "No, Audrey," I said, shaking my head.
"I overheard a bunch of girls back there swooning over your boyfriend," Audrey continued.
"He's not my boyfriend," I told her again for the hundredth time.
She just shrugged, her smile unfazed. "Whatever you say..."
The girls exchanged one last amused glance as Adam approached us. They sauntered away, Audrey tossing a breezy "See you tomorrow!" over her shoulder.
I smiled up at Adam, brushing off their teasing. "I'm really proud of you tonight," I told him warmly.
"Just tonight?" he quipped, his eyes glinting playfully.
I hesitated, then asked, "Are you okay, though? You seemed lost in thought during dinner."
He nodded. "Are you? You were pretty focused on your plate back there."
"Yeah, just thinking," I replied.
"Me too," he echoed.
"See you tomorrow at Brown's?" I asked.
"If not sooner," he said with a swift smile.
I flashed him a smile and then made my way to where my family was waiting.
During the ride home, I shut my eyes and feigned sleep, hoping to dodge any conversations. After the day's rollercoaster of high emotions and stress, I felt completely drained. Once we pulled up at the house, I quickly gave each of my parents a goodnight kiss on the cheek to show my appreciation for them being there before heading inside.
Once in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, replaying the events in my mind. I kept glancing at my phone, waiting for a message from Mr. Scott or maybe a call from Penny, but my screen stayed disappointingly empty. Around 10 PM, worn out from overthinking everything, a knock on my door startled me from my thoughts.
"Go away, Belle," I shouted, assuming it was my sister.
Instead, Adam poked his head in. "Hi."
"Adam, what are you doing here—did my parents open the door willingly for you or did you pull some sneaky move?"
"Your father gave me the VIP pass," he explained. "Told him we had a little tiff before the show, and he gave me the green light to come over and apologize."
I raised an eyebrow. "So you lied to him?"
"Not exactly," Adam shrugged and sat on the bed with me. "We did have a disagreement."
"That was three days ago. And it wasn't even a disagreement."
"Well, we were both clearly bothered by something at dinner tonight."
I sighed, too drained to argue. "What do you want?"
"Just to talk. I couldn't sleep thinking maybe something was wrong."
I hesitated before replying. "Okay, you start then. Spill. What's going with you?"
Adam shook his head. "Nope, you start."
We bickered childishly over who would share their thoughts first, finally resorting to a quick round of rock-paper-scissors to decide.
"This is so childish..." I groaned.
He laughed. "Oh come on, don't act like we haven't used this peaceful method to settle our disputes before."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Yeah, back when we were in middle school." I made my move and threw out scissors, but my Adam's rock instantly defeated them.
I sighed in defeat, realizing that I would have to speak first after all.
"So, Wendy? What's bothering you?"
I hesitated, unsure whether to unload everything on him. But the kiss with Mr. Scott felt like a boiling teapot about to explode with steam and scalding water. I had to tell someone. Adam was my ride-or-die, my best friend above all else. A few kisses shouldn't mess with years of friendship, right?
"Okay, look, you need to promise you won't freak out," I warned slowly.
Adam's face clouded, steeling himself. Maybe I should have stopped there. But he was always the reasonable, pragmatic one out of us three. He'd hear me out, wouldn't he?
I took a deep breath, my brain urging me to spill, while my heart screamed that it was a terrible idea. I could practically hear it shouting, "You're telling the guy you've been smooching that another dude just kissed you? Seriously?"
It sounded so sordid when I framed it that way.
But Adam was still my go-to, the one who would give me an honest male perspective. I wanted to be straight with him, even if it stung a bit.
"Wendy, what is it already?" He pressed, impatience creeping into his tone as he settled beside me.
Going with my head over my heart, I spilled it. "After the play tonight...Mr. Scott, he..." I trailed off, not sure how to put it.
"He what?" Adam's face darkened. "What about him?"
I swallowed hard, the truth about to burst forth. "He kissed me."
"He did what?!"
"He did WHAT?!" Adam exploded like a volcano, rage contorting his features. An intense argument erupted with the force of a hurricane crashing into a trailer park.
I held up my palms, trying in vain to calm him. "Adam, you have to look at this rationally and not fly off the handle like -"
"Rationally?" he sputtered, indignant disbelief painted across his face. "I knew it! I knew something was up!"
"Adam, you have to listen to me..." I pleaded.
"Why?!"
"Why? What do you mean why? Why did he kiss me? I've no—"
"No! Why are you telling me this, Wendy?" Adam leapt from the bed. His hands were clenched at his sides, like he was ready for a brawl.
I flinched but held my ground. "Because no matter what's gone down between us, you're still my ride-or-die!" I shot back with some heat. "You're still my ride-or-die, aren't you?"
Adam prowled the room. "Scott is a teacher? You still get that fact? And you're in high school, Wendy! You're a high school student! This could get him fired or arrested if anyone found out!"
Logically, I knew Adam was on point, but I found myself arguing still. "He's just 26, okay? I think. I haven't exactly asked for his birth certificate. But he's in his 20s for sure. The age gap isn't that big. It doesn't matter." Even as I said it, I cringed inside.
Why was I defending this?
"It does matter!" Adam wheeled around, his face a mix of frustration. "Teacher-student relationships are illegal for a reason, Wendy. The power dynamics alone... Do you even hear yourself right now? I can't believe this..." He trailed off, dragging both hands down his face.
"I'm not an idiot, okay? I'm not plotting to run off with him or anything." My emotions were running wild. I couldn't seem to shut off the word flow. "I'm a grown-up, making my own decisions and my own choices!"
"Choices? You mean him?" Adam froze, staring at me with an expression of utter betrayal, as if I had plunged a dagger into his back. The room fell into a deafening silence, our ragged breaths the only sound piercing the heavy tension.
Why would he say that? I wasn't choosing Mr. Scott. Yet, as I pondered Adam's accusation, a dark tendril of doubt slithered through my mind. Was I subconsciously making excuses for Mr. Scott's inexcusable behavior? Did some twisted part of me revel in the forbidden thrill of his illicit attention amidst the sea of women fawning over him?
And why did Adam even care so much? Was it out of friendly concern, or was it because of the messy web we'd woven between us? I studied his face, but the emotions were like trying to read a foreign language.
I watched in trepidation as Adam turned toward the window, his back a tense, rigid wall separating us. For an agonizing eternity, a heavy silence hung in the air, thick enough to choke on.
Finally, with a weary sigh that seemed to emanate from the depths of his soul, Adam's shoulders slumped in resignation. "You know what, Wendy?" His voice was low. "I'm sorry, but I can't be that guy anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"You're smart. You know what I mean."
"Adam..."
He turned around, then stopped, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at me, his fingers fumbling in his pocket. Without a word, he crossed the room again and placed a small, messily-wrapped gift on bed. The tape crossed every which way, the bow stuck on crookedly. On any other day, we'd have laughed at his charming attempt.
Carefully, I took the box and opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he hurried out. I stared after him, my grip tightening on the present. As I traced my fingers over the uneven creases and wrinkled corners, tears sprang into my eyes. Our angry words echoed in my ears. A hollow ache spread through my chest.
My heart had warned me. I should have listened.