Breaking Walls (7 page)

“Yeah, maybe,” I said with a smile, knowing it was better left unsaid that I had
zero
intentions of playwriting, screenwriting, script writing, or basically
any
kind of writing that would inevitably impress my mother.

Mr. Davies
carried the stack of boxes outside to load into the back of Fletcher’s truck, so I turned to my teammate, watching as he continued to fold and pack.

“Hey, Fletcher?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” I stopped packing as I watched him move across the gym to break down the borrowed coat racks.

“Do you think Sugar Creek has a real chance at winning this thing?”

“For sure,” he said, nodding. “The team’s pulled out all the stops. Gretchen has her six-week focus on placing the shelter animals in permanent homes. Katie’s bake sales and car washes have been successful each time, and Alan started collaborating with Carla last week at the church to kick-start a canned food drive. Between all of that and the money we’ve raised, I don’t see how we can lose. Plus, let’s not forget Carla’s soup kitchen.”

Right.
Because who could forget that?

“Do you think she’ll win the scholarship?” I asked, hearing the crack in my voice.

I didn’t know why I’d asked; I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to hear his answer.

“I think we all have just as much of a chance as she does,” he said. “Lashell said it’s not all about who comes up with what. There are other skills and stuff the leaders are looking at. I don’t think it’s so cut and dried.”

Right. Yes, I knew that. Wasn’t that something she’d pointed out on the first day?
There is only one scholarship, and it will be awarded to the student at the winning school who exhibits the most drive, the most commitment, and the best attitude within the project. It’s not solely dependent on the outcome of any specific idea or action you may bring to the table.

“Just because Carla came up with the soup kitchen doesn’t mean she’s a shoo-in for the money,” Fletcher continued. “I mean, you have the dance finale to take credit for.”
Not anymore.
“We have all the fundraisers, the clothing drive. Everyone’s been really great and supportive of the rest of the group; the teamwork’s paid off. We’ve put in lots of hours. I’d like to think we’re all still in this to the finish. It’s not over ‘til it’s over.”

I hoped that was the case. I hoped that, with only three weeks left to go, that there was still plenty of time to keep making impressions. But what if our current impressions were all we were guaranteed? Then what would I do? I needed time for damage control. What if everyone else thought the same as Carla? What if they all thought that I’d only showed up at the park to drum up pity and secure the win for myself?

“So you don’t think that I’m— ”

“Guaranteed the scholarship just because you were
hookin’ up with Gabe?” he asked, and my jaw unhinged at the accusation. “No.” He straightened his stance and looked me square in the eyes, making sure that I understood that this was his heart-felt honesty. “There’s been talk amongst the group, but no one’s giving it much weight. You’re a nice girl. Gabe’s a great guy. We’ve all accepted that this could pan out in your favor, and if it does, then it’s because you earned it, and not because . . . you know.”

“Oh boy.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Fletcher, I wasn’t going to . . . I was just wondering if . . . okay, that’s
not
what I was going to ask you.”

But it didn’t matter anymore what I planned to ask. He’d already assured me that at least
he
believed that if I won, I would win by my own merit. If Fletcher thought that I could still earn my way to the top, even after everything that had happened with Gabe, then it only gave me more hope that I could keep things moving in my favor.

“Just for the record, though, Gabe and I weren’t…” I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. I just… I just really, really liked him, that’s all.”

“Oh,” his mouth twitched. “Sorry. I just assumed—”

“Apparently assumptions aren’t worth much around here,” I said, forcing a smile, though I knew he’d never understand. “But thank you.”

He scrunched his brow, uncertain as to why I thanked him. Still, he shrugged as if to say
no problem
. Even
I
wasn’t sure why I’d offered up my thanks. Maybe because he’d given me a little peace of mind when it came to my place in the group, or possibly because he was just doing what any nice person would do—offering some much-needed solace and comfort.

I was glad to call Fletcher my friend. I just hoped he wouldn’t turn out to be the same kind of friend as Carla. I liked him too much to have to hate him.

Chapter Five

I was drowning in a sea of uncertainties. It was already Wednesday, bringing us officially two and
a half weeks away from the end of the program, and I still had yet to find a way to tip the scales of the RI scholarship in my favor. It wouldn’t be easy, especially in competition with Carla, but it
was
doable.
That
was the silver lining. I just had to stop, think, and figure out what would resonate with our group and with our town. What would it take to really make a difference around here?

I’d been
wracking my brain for days, scouring the web, doing everything I could to come up with a new idea, but I felt like all of the really great ideas were either spoken for or two difficult to pull off with such a short time constraint.

I thought of asking
Fletcher if he could help me drum up something earth-shattering and amazing. But then again, I figured if he had something in mind that was grand enough to take the cake, he was probably saving that idea for himself. Maybe he wouldn’t mind putting our heads together and trying to focus our attention on another new project like we’d done with the clothing drive. I was open to any collaborative ideas, but I wasn’t sure he would be. I knew if I pitched the idea to tackle another huge task together, he’d sense my desperation, and he’d probably bring up the dance finale again.
Don’t sweat it, Parker. You’re doing great. You’ve got the dance finale to take credit for
. So then I’d have two options: tell him the truth that Carla had taken over and refused to let me have a hand in it, or shrug it off and pretend like I just wanted to take on more.

I wouldn’t throw Carla under the bus. That wasn’t an option. I didn’t like what she was doing, and I especially detested her attitude about the whole thing, but I wasn’t going to sink that low. She’d already accused me of doing something really awful, and I wasn’t going to turn around and prove her right by trying to gain sympathy from anyone. She kept the dance. Okay. I’d get it over, move on, and let bygones be bygones.
Eventually.

“Okay, let’s think,” Jones said, kicking his feet up on a foot stool. He settled himself into one of the corner chairs at
Lexy’s Book Nook—the only bookstore in town. It was small, functional, and had a scaled-down aura of any of the larger and more popular brick and mortar stores. The small café along the back wall was probably the highlight of the whole shop. While I’d stopped in a hundred times on my own to browse the shelves or enjoy a steaming cup of hot chocolate, it was the first time I’d ever been inside the store with Jones. We were only there, bouncing ideas off of one another, waiting to meet up with Bailey.

I paced the floor in front of him, gnawing on my lip and shaking my head.

“You could set up a blood drive?”

“A blood drive would be great,” I said. “But there’s no time. I read on-line that you have to schedule those things like six months in advance.”

“Okay . . . ” He dropped his head back and looked up to the ceiling. “Do something for the old folks, like . . . offer to rake their leaves or something.”

He was just as frustrated, if not more so, than I was. Jones was the only person I’d turned to with the information of what happened between Carla and
me at the diner, and the only reason I told him was because I nearly had an emotional breakdown at work last night. After giving him the play-by-play of how everything had gone down, brutal detail after brutal detail, he was eager to kick Carla’s butt—both in the competition and in reality. To Jones, watching Carla Tally lose the competition had just become very personal. He’d stop at nothing to make sure I won.

“There are so many things working against us here.”

“Like what?”

“For one,” I said, still pacing
, “Carla.”

“I’m not worried about her.”

“Of course
you’re
not,” I said. “You’re not competing against her.”

“I’m just saying, I think if you really bust your butt, you can win this thing with flying colors. She’s only as much of a threat as you let her be.”

“Yeah, but I have to be careful about how much I take on. I can’t function on a sleepless body for the next two and a half weeks. In this case, simplicity is key.”

“God, Mandy, this sucks,” he said, sitting up straight again. He let his eyes wander across the book shelves before he turned back to me. “Are you sure you didn’t do something to this girl?”

“To Carla? No. Not that I know of anyway.”

“Think harder.”

“
I’ve been thinking!
I haven’t
stopped
thinking about it since the moment I walked out of the diner on Sunday morning. But I swear I haven’t done anything.”

“It just doesn’t add up,” he said. “That whole load of nonsense about targeting you because of what happened at the park. It’s bogus. She’s grasping at straws. There’s something she’s not saying.”

“It doesn’t matter, though. Even if she has other reasons, we can’t undo what’s been done, so we have to keep going.”
Keep moving forward.
That was one rule worth sticking to.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving a hand.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” I said, starting toward the back wall. “You want anything?”

“I’ll come with you.”

Jones and I made our way back to the café. Lexy, the bookstore owner, was known to slide in behind the café counter every now and then to help the baristas. But on a business day as slow as this one, there wasn’t even a regular barista on site. The store owner took our orders and filled both steaming cups with hot chocolate.

“Topped with extra marshmallows,” she promised with a wink.

We paid and said our thanks. I turned away, balancing my drink in hand as Jones sipped at his. The bell over the front entrance chimed, and we both turned, thinking we’d find Bailey as she made her grand entrance. But no such luck. We stared at the front of the store as Gabe entered, stopping Jones dead in his tracks. I didn’t bother stopping; I acted much faster, ducking behind a shelf and completely out of sight.

“What—are—you—doing?” Jones whispered through his teeth, and then he joined me behind the shelf.

Trying to give myself time to think of something to say, that’s what!

I set my hot chocolate next to the books and wiped my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. As I looked up again, I saw that Bailey had already arrived in
our absence. She was settled in the seat Jones had vacated only moments before we went to order our drinks.

“Dude, Bailey’s right there,” he said. “She’s waiting on us. We can’t just hide
here—”

“I can’t get over there without him seeing me,” I said. “I just need a minute to compose myself before I walk out there,” I said quietly, still watching him through the slats between the books. “
Why is even here
? It’s Wednesday. He shouldn’t be in Sugar Creek. We don’t have any events scheduled today.”

“Again, you’re hiding
why
? This is your territory, not his.”

“Yeah, but he’s dodged me more over the past week than Carla has,” I whispered, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. “This is the first time I’m seeing him outside the program.”

“Yeah?”

“Jones, I’ve thought so much about what I’d say to him when I finally got the chance to talk, but I don’t know that I’m ready. I didn’t expect to just run into him, and I don’t have my thoughts together. I don’t want to say something I might—”

“Hey, Gabe, how are ya?”
Bailey said, drowning out my last few words. I ducked lower as my sister greeted him, making sure that he wouldn’t see me if he happened to look over.
Great
. Not only were we hiding, but we’d officially become spies. Jones ducked down next to me, looking just as guilty for eavesdropping.

“Maybe I should go over there.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said to him. “If she knows you’re here, then she’ll know I’m already here. And if
he
knows I’m here, then he’ll just run or subject me to a weird and uncomfortable one-sided conversation. We’re waiting.”

“Pull up a chair, have a seat,” Bailey said to Gabe, and his footsteps grew louder. He took the empty seat across from her.

Please don’t see us, please don’t see us.