Jesse had my phone with him again the next day.

He scanned the hallway sometimes, maybe wondering if the Cinderella from Homecoming would meet his eyes and smile before walking up to him.

In the cafeteria, he made his way to a seat, his eyes darting this way and that. I stared down at the tray in front of me.

Harper said something about finding something to do after school. I could hardly pay attention, so all I did was nod.

Lena gave me a weird look, but I was glad when she didn’t say anything.

And Rey scribbled away in her notebook, only looking up to chime in with ideas for Harper.

There were doodles, flowers, suns, moons, and stars on one side of her journal. She had abandoned them in favor of a new page, where she drew 3D letters spelling out her name.

I glanced at Jesse. He was in a similar situation—surrounded by friends but not really paying attention.

Part of me wanted to tell him, wanted to come face to face with him again, like at the dance. He had the most incredible smile, and I loved the way I had to look up at him for my eyes to meet his.

Everything about him was perfect.

I could just go up to him right now…

Then I saw the cheerleaders and jocks around him, with their perfectly styled hair, unwavering confidence, and good looks. They belonged in a magazine. I would never fit in with them. Plus, Lindsay and Courtney would rather die than allow me to become one of them.

“You getting back to class or what?” Lena asked. “Ella? Your class is gone.”

“What? Oh,” I said, springing up, tray in hand. “I’ll see you guys later.”

I went through the day in a daze.

On my way to chemistry, I felt my heart rate go way up, as if I was running there instead of making my legs walk me there.

Part of me thought maybe Jesse would recognize me somehow, but a bigger part of me realized that was simply impossible. Guys like Jesse didn’t even look my way.

I sat down in my usual seat, not looking anywhere but my desk.

He was already there, chatting with his friends.

Rey’s seat remained empty, so I sat alone, waiting for class to start. The packet of homework from last night rested on top of my binder, ready to be turned in.

Rey came in a minute later, waving as she made her way to her seat, her notebook and favorite pen clutched against her chest. She tucked her short, caramel-colored hair behind her ear.

The bell rang, and the teacher came up to the board, starting today’s lecture immediately. I got out a fresh piece of paper and scribbled notes on chemical reactions.

Today, instead of doing a worksheet, we were actually going to do an experiment. Mr. Green began calling out pairs, and we put our stuff away, all except our pencils, which we’d need to write up a lab report afterward.

I waited for my name to be called.

“Jeffrey and Paula, you’ll be working together,” the teacher said, looking around the room and making pairs on the fly. “Briana and Ben. Jesse and Ella. Tommy and Sara Beth.”

He went on, but I didn’t hear much after that, especially with the scrapes of chairs as people moved closer to their partners.

Jesse and Ella? Seriously? It felt like the universe was playing a horrible prank on me.

“Mr. Green, do I have to work with Tommy?” Sara Beth asked.

“Yes, you do,” the teacher said, not missing a beat. He finished calling out pairs.

I was frozen in the same spot. Normally, the teacher let us pick our own partners in this class, so it was a given I’d work with Rey.

But the class had gotten on the teacher’s last nerve lately.

And now this had happened.

Rey mouthed something, but I couldn’t tell what she was trying to say. She looked just as surprised as me. Rey spun her desk around to work with a guy behind her.

I tried to keep my breathing steady as Jesse moved his desk over so it was in front of mine. I didn’t dare look up at him and meet his eyes. I had seen the unsure look on his face when Mr. Green had called our names. He obviously didn’t know who I was.

“Hey,” he said, not looking up either. “I’ll go get the supplies.”

Just like that, he was gone again, and I watched him walk to the back of the classroom to grab the materials for the experiment.

Oh my god. How was I going to get through this?

All too soon, he was back, and it was too late to figure out some kind of plan for how to act.

He lay down a balloon, an empty bottle, vinegar, and baking soda between both of our desks.

The teacher explained what we were supposed to do, but I could hardly keep up.

“Alright, get to work. I’ll walk around in case anyone has questions. Or causes an explosion.”

Sara Beth, who wasn’t too far away, said, “He’s joking, right?”

I turned back to Jesse. He finally looked at me.

“Uh, do you remember what to do?” he asked.

“Um, I think the directions are on the board,” I said. I worried that he’d recognize my voice, but I sounded different anyway. Not nearly as confident as the night of Homecoming.

He twisted around. “Oh yeah. Okay, so we need to, uh, take this,” he said, picking up the baking soda.

I took the bottle and held it out for him.

“And measure two tablespoons,” he finished, turning to me again. “Oh, thanks. You hold, I pour?”

I nodded.

He poured, and I focused on not messing up the simple act of holding the empty bottle steady.

After that, we checked the board again. The silence between us frayed my nerves.

“I think we pour the vinegar next?” I said.

He studied the directions. “I think we’re supposed to have the balloon ready to place over the bottle opening first?”

Oops. He was right. “Duh,” I said. “Sorry.”

He gave me a small smile before grabbing the balloon. “You want to do the vinegar?”

“Sure.” I measured it out. “Ready?” I met his eyes for a second. My face grew hot. It felt like I was back at Homecoming, slow dancing with his arms around me.

“Ready,” he said, interrupting my brief daydream.

I poured the vinegar quickly, and he immediately pulled the rubber balloon over the bottle. The chemical reaction was already taking place. We were supposed to be wearing goggles, but everyone knew this was harmless enough. Only Tommy could possibly mess this up.

As if on cue, we heard Sara Beth scream as the bottle of baking soda and vinegar landed in her lap, and the balloon flew to the ceiling. It landed at our feet with a plop.

We laughed, turning back to our experiment. Jesse’s hand reached out and caught the bottle as it threatened to topple under the ever-growing balloon.

My body relaxed, and with every centimeter the balloon between us filled with air, the tension between us evaporated.

Will got Jesse’s attention with a small wave. Will thought I wasn’t looking, but I was.

And I could read the look on his face, the look that said what he thought about me. That it sucked for Jesse that he’d gotten stuck with me as partner.

I grabbed the balloon at the spout of the bottle with one quick motion, Jesse’s hand still wrapped around the bottom. I let it deflate and set the wrinkly balloon aside.

I clenched my jaw and wrote up the lab report, determined to act like I hadn’t seen a thing.

How had Jesse reacted? I hadn’t been able to see that part.

I blinked hard. No, I couldn’t let myself get like this. Just because Jesse’s friend was a typical high school jerk didn’t mean that he was too. He’d proven that.

I took a deep breath and finished writing and working out the chemistry equation representing the chemical reaction that had taken place during the experiment.

A few minutes later, I looked up at the sound of Jesse’s voice. “Did you get 270 mL for the vinegar on the second part of the equation?”

“Um, I think it’s supposed to be 160,” I replied.

His brow furrowed in confusion, and my eyes immediately went to his paper. It took me a minute to make sense of it since his paper was upside down, but I saw his mistake.

I pointed it out. “You forgot to simplify here.”

He saw it too and started erasing. “Thanks,” he said, shaking his head. “I always do that.”

“I know,” I said, smiling and then freezing at my mistake.

Jesse stopped and looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I mean—um, it’s a common mistake,” I said, trying to recover.

He nodded and went back to fixing his math problem, muttering to himself. “Who’d have thought there’d be more math in this class than actual science?”

I laughed, and he looked at me again. I was about to apologize when he smiled. That was a totally Jesse thing to say.

“I actually like the math,” I confessed.

He raised his brow. “Really?”

I nodded.

“I have a friend like that. Like you, I mean. She loves math. Me? I can never quite get the hang of numbers. As soon as I think I do, I manage to get something wrong again.”

My breath had caught at the mention of his friend. He had to mean me. I smiled at him, but he was already back to the equation.

“Maybe it’s how other people see basketball,” I said.

He gave me his full attention.

“Some of us couldn’t dribble a ball or make a basket to save our lives,” I finished.

He shrugged. “At the end of the day, though, it’s a game. People who can do math, though, can launch people into space or figure out other important stuff. Or at least pass chemistry.”

I laughed. “I guess, but basketball takes just as much skill and talent as anything else, don’t you think? Not to mention working under pressure and being part of a team. Not everyone can do that.”

Our eyes met again, and he smiled. “Thanks.”

He wrote his name at the top of his paper before turning to the materials scattered across our table. “I’ll take this stuff back,” he said.

“Okay, I’ll turn these in.” I took our lab reports to the tray, noticing his small but neat handwriting.

We had a few minutes left in class, so we sat there, our desks still facing each other. Jesse scrolled through something on his phone while I sat across from him, arms crossed.

All I could hear was the quiet murmur of the class as they finished working with the occasional question for the teacher or giggle.

I glanced at Jesse. He was looking at something on his phone.

This moment could be it. When would he and I have a chance like this again?

I needed my phone back. But more than that, I had to know what he’d think of me. Like this. No makeup, no perfect waves in my hair, no dress and mask to hide behind.

Part of me screamed that this was the wrong place, the wrong time, but I pushed that away.

I opened my mouth. It was now or never.

The harsh sound of the bell ending class filled my ears.

And then he was gone.

All this time, he had been searching for his Cinderella, and she’d been right in front of him. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved at his failure to recognize my voice or maybe my eyes, or let down because of it.

The state science and technology fair was on the same day as the next varsity basketball game of the season. The boys played at home tonight while the girls traveled to an away game.

The bus for the girls’ team had pulled away from the school not long after lunch. I had been making my way to the gym with my giant tri-fold board.

I was ready. I’d spent all of yesterday rehearsing and memorizing my presentation as I swept the kitchen, vacuumed, and scrubbed dirty dishes. I had double-checked everything from the app’s proposed design and layout to its purpose and functionality.

The presentations would start in a matter of minutes. Then it’d be time for the boys’ varsity basketball game.

The gym was already half full of tables, and most of them were already set up with a project.

I found an empty one off to the side and got ready, carefully opening up the poster and standing it up. After that, I had a lot of time to kill. The judges wouldn’t reach my section of the gym until after school.

The science and technology fair was for the state, so there were lots of students here who weren’t from our school or even our county. Each high school had the option of sending one student to compete, and I had been chosen to represent Westwood High. Even so, there were about a hundred students, and they all looked ready in their business casual attire. For the boys, it meant jackets and khakis while the girls wore skirts or dress pants, blouses, and close-toed shoes. I studied the posters around me and wasn’t surprised at the high level of work that had obviously gone into them.

The buzz died down as the presentations began. It’d be a while before it was my turn, so I pulled out my math homework. A while later, I finished the last problem. The final bell rang, and I put my stuff away and got ready, shoving my backpack under my table.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the boys’ varsity basketball team. They walked onto the far side of the gym as a group. Jesse led them, ball in hand.

My table was in the middle of the gym, at the edge of the science fair. The varsity coach, Jesse’s dad, walked onto the court, clipboard in hand, his face clearly showing that he wasn’t too happy about something wholly unimportant like a science fair taking up space in his gym. On the day of his team’s first home game.

He started yelling something at the team, and I turned my attention back to my poster. I looked it over, making sure everything was there. The examples of the layout, the questions. Some research and statistics on bullying in high school. Everything.

The title of the app, “Honestly,” was in big, bright letters across the top.

Rey had helped me draw them, so of course, nothing could compare. They were the first thing someone would notice. The whole poster had a theme she’d helped me create.

If I won today, or even placed, it’d be thanks to her. The judges really cared about a project’s appearance, especially if it stood apart from the competition. This was hand-done, but it looked even better than the professionally printed posters a lot of kids had.

I got out my notecards and began practicing in my head. They were insurance more than anything else. After weeks of hard work, I knew this presentation inside and out. Ms. Moreau had told me that was another thing the judges were looking for—poise and a clear, engaging voice. But talking to someone that didn’t include Lena, Rey, or Harper was hard. Talking to several judges in front of a bunch of people like this was really hard. But somehow, knowing how proud my dad would be of my idea and all my work made it seem easier.

I repeated the introduction to myself one more time but was interrupted by the sound of my name.

Lena waved at me as she made her way to my table along with Rey and Harper. They passed the large area now empty thanks to the retractable bleachers.

I waved back, putting my notecards carefully back in the back pocket of my pants.

“You look great,” Lena said, touching the sleeves of the navy blue blazer over my white button-down, long-sleeve shirt. “And those pants.”

I looked down at my black skinny-style but professional-looking pants and smiled. “Thanks.”

“You look amazing,” Harper nodded.

I had used up almost all of my meager babysitting earnings on this outfit, so I was glad she liked it.

They complimented me on my poster but then quickly noticed the basketball team beyond us.

“Is that PC over there?” Rey asked with a wink.

I shrugged, trying to pretend I hadn’t noticed.

Harper turned to me. “Does he know you’re presenting today?”

I shook my head. “He knows about the app and that there is a presentation. But not that it’s today.”

Technically, he could come over and potentially recognize the project, but I doubted his dad, the coach, would let him come within three feet of the science and tech competition. Not when the game was in less than a couple hours.

Lena seemed to realize the same thing. “So close…and so far away.”

Jesse dribbled a ball in each of his hands on the sidelines, looking nowhere but in front of him. Sweat glistened on his forehead and shoulders.

“We should probably go,” Lena said. “I have soccer practice. Good luck. I’m sure you’ll wow those judges.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“My mom’s waiting for us outside,” Rey said, glancing at Harper. “Break a leg.”

Harper laughed. “Isn’t that for the theater?”

Rey shrugged.

“Anyway,” Harper said, “my mom’s working late again, so Rey’s giving me a ride home. I just wanted to show up for some moral support.”

I squeezed her back, then hugged Rey, and they walked off.

My time was coming up. The judges were only a few tables away.

I took a deep breath and glanced at Jesse one last time. He was busy shooting, and the coach threw him ball after ball.

He was in his element, and I was in mine.

This was it.