He was at his locker one afternoon when the group of boys nearby started their usual routine. One of them said something about prom. Another said something about him. Then: “Maybe somebody’ll take you if she’s blind.”
He was already turning away from it, which he had learned was the fastest path to the end of it.
“He’s not going with somebody blind. He’s going with me.”
He turned back.
Charlotte was standing in the hallway in her cheer uniform. Calm, the way a person is calm when they have made a decision and are no longer deliberating. She was the head cheerleader and the prettiest girl in the
junior class by consensus, and every person in that hallway — including Tyler — stood very still.
He looked behind him to confirm she was addressing someone else.
She smiled. “No, Tyler. You.”
His face went hot. “Is this — is this a joke?”
