The Brightest Star in a Constellation

7: Call It a Coincidence

☆ Evan ☆

My shoes squeak against the bright floors of the gymnasium, coming around the corner for the fourth time. In front of me are the basketball nets, rising far above my head. A few students in my class are faster runners than I am; last week, when we evaluated who could run for the longest during the pacer test, I ended in eighth place.

The substitute teacher sits on the bleachers with her water bottle, taking note of every lap the class completes. As we aren't allowed to use our phones in class, I'm forced to run to the tinny country song playing on the stereo resting in the middle of the gym.

In the same class are the majority of the hockey team, not that I've spoken to them yet. Sam Fields forges a path in front of the group, like he thinks he's winning a medal for coming in first place. Not too far behind him is Lucas Azan, the cord of his headphones partially hidden from view by the collar of his sweatshirt.

I pass the girl in front of me, catching up to Lucas. His pace slows until we're running side by side, and he takes the earbud from his ears to look at me sidelong. "I heard you're quitting the soccer team," he says softly.

"I wasn't aware that was gossip," I reply.

He falls silent as we pass the teacher, as if making the extra effort to seem dedicated. And judging by how easily he's clearing each lap, he could overtake Sam if he wanted to.

"Anything is better than that party stuff," Lucas says. "I hope that blows over soon. I'd do anything to get back to the petty drama about you quitting the team or Jenny breaking up with Sebastian again."

"You're a bit late on the uptake there. They're back together now," I say between heaving breaths. We've slowed to a relative walking speed, but I pick up the pace when the teacher is watching.

Lucas chuckles. "Both are on student council together. Let's just say that one of them is going to have to quit if they want to get any planning done for prom. We haven't even decided on the theme yet."

Lately, all I ever hear about is prom. It's September, and one minute I can be minding my own business, talking about this class or that assignment—then, out of nowhere, Claire will start discussing prom, like we have a week instead of months. I need to buy a dress. You need to help me pick a colour. We have to match, Evan.

It's driving me mad.

"That's high school relationships for you. It never works out. They're practically destined to fail," I say simply.

Lucas shrugs. "If my parents weren't high school sweethearts, I'd agree with you. Maybe it's just North High relationships that are a new level of fucked up. No offence."

"None taken. Claire is annoying me to high hell with her gossip about the party. I don't understand her sometimes."

"I can't help you there. Girls are a mystery to me. But I didn't know you were at the party. I saw Claire, but where were you?"

"Left early," I say simply. "What about you?"

Lucas hesitates, sliding his phone from his pocket to change the song. "I was inside when it happened. It was a total frenzy. As far as I know, Sam was wasted and thought it was funny to play a prank on Peter and pretend to make a move. Obviously, that was a bad idea for more reasons than I can count."