BECAUSE I REALLY DO WANT to raise my algebra grade, I end up in the library with Ana on Thursday. She’d agreed to stay an hour later than usual because of my Wavettes practice, which is nice of her. I find her sitting near the reference desk when I push through the double doors.

I’m a little intimidated as I walk over to the table she’s claimed for us. Ana has always been effortlessly gorgeous. Her dark-brown hair hangs down in a braid over her shoulder, and she sits upright with perfect posture.

When she spots me, she smiles. “Kira! It’s great to see you. It’s been too long.”

I’m reminded why she’s popular in her grade. She can easily make anyone feel welcome.

“It really has.” I take a seat next to her, setting my book bag in the chair beside me. “Thanks again for helping me out.”

“It’s no problem. Alex caught me up on what’s going to be on your test next week.”

I pull my algebra textbook and flip to the chapter we covered today about radical functions. “I should warn you that I’m pretty hopeless.”

She waves that aside. “I doubt it. Let’s see what you’re struggling with.”

For the next forty minutes, Ana patiently breaks down Mrs. Donaldson’s most recent lesson. By the end, I’ve even managed to solve a few homework problems on my own.

“See? I knew you could do it.” She smiles at me. Her eyes are the same shade of soft brown as Alex’s, and it catches me off guard for a moment. “Sometimes it helps when someone else explains it in another way.”

Relief breaks through my chest, even though I know I have a long way to go. “Thank you, seriously.”

She dog-ears one of my textbook pages and taps her pencil eraser on the remaining practice problems. “Come see me a few more times before your big test and do these over the weekend so you don’t forget. If you get confused, just text me.” She writes down her number on my spiral.

I glance up at her. “I really appreciate it.”

Ana shrugs like it isn’t a big deal. “I had Mrs. Donaldson last year. I know how she can be.”

“Yeah, but you’re way smarter than me.”

She laughs modestly. “No.”

“Seriously. Alex told me how you guys are up super early to help with the restaurant, and you’re in a ton of clubs and volunteer with tutoring—”

Ana flushes. “Alex told you that? About Rosita’s?”

I try to backtrack. “Well, I mean, yeah he mentioned it once.” Now I’m the one blushing. I don’t want to offend or embarrass Ana. She’s so sweet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Ana studies me for a few seconds. “You know, I’m not surprised. He’s always been really open with you.”

If Alex’s former crush was obvious to me, then I’m sure Ana and Marlina were also aware. Alex didn’t seem ashamed when he told me about helping his mom out at Rosita’s. Then again, it’d always been easy to talk to each other. But that had slowed when—

Right. When Lacey asked him to Sadie Hawkins and in a weird fit of unannounced jealousy, I quit speaking to him as much.

“I have to get going.” Ana closes her spiral, giving me another warm smile. “But like I said, text me over the weekend if you have any more questions.”

“I will,” I say.

With a small wave, Ana grabs her backpack and walks out of the library. I pack up my things and head toward my locker to get the books I need for my homework tonight. As I’m walking past the auditorium, there’s a loud bang as the doors slam open. A bunch of kids emerge from the theater, including Alex.

My breath sticks in the shallows of my throat.

“Kira, hey!”

He begins to walk over to me. Somehow I find my voice.

“Hey.” My tone feels a few octaves too high. “I just finished tutoring with your sister.”

If Alex notices, he doesn’t say anything. “How’d it go?”

“Really good.”

He grins. “Good.”

A beat of silence falls between us, and I find myself wracking my brain so this moment doesn’t have to be over.

“We’re running through the first act,” Alex says. “For the fall play. All-hands-on-deck mode. I have to move a few props during scene breaks.”

“Oh! Okay. Yeah.” This is where I should turn to go, but I don’t. Instead I stand there like a massive dork.

He gestures toward the auditorium. “Do you, um… want to come watch?”

I’m surprised at the invitation. Aside from the holiday program the Wavettes put on, I’ve never been in the auditorium for a theater performance. But I want to be backstage with Alex. I’m suddenly grappling with this urge to spend time with him.

“Yeah, is it okay? For me to be in there, I mean?”

“Definitely.” He tugs on the back of his beanie. “You can watch from backstage with me.”

And just like that, I’m following him into the auditorium. Mrs. Henson, one of the theater instructors, is giving commands to a few actors on stage. Aside from her, the rest of the seats in the theater are empty.

Alex leads me down a small hallway that loops backstage. It’s mostly all juniors or seniors in this cast, but no one pays me any mind as we walk by. They’re running lines with each other or discussing costumes with the senior costume designer, who looks a little stressed out.

Alex stops at the right wing of the stage. It’s cluttered with a white dresser on wheels and a small office desk with a lamp on top of it.

“I kinda just wait here until scene break. Super exciting, right? But it’s cool seeing them improve.” He moves the lamp to the ground, then takes a seat on the desk. He pats the empty space beside it. “Here.”

My nerves thrum through my veins as I climb next to him. We’re sitting so close, and I’m so, so aware of him. The soft flops of his dark curls. The calluses on his hands from building props in the workshop. The slight overlap in his two front teeth when he looks over at me and smiles, like I’m the only person here that he cares about.

My heart beats deeply, an erratic rhythm in my head.

I think back to what Ana said. He’s always been really open with you. But he wasn’t the only one. Even though Alex wasn’t part of my immediate circle of friends, I’d still told him about my dad. I talked to him about it more than I ever talked to Jay.

Is it possible that our friendship has evolved so naturally that I’ve barely noticed?

He shifts. Our hands almost touch. I swallow and swallow and swallow. I imagine what it would be like if we made even the slightest contact. My skin would ignite. I would burst into flames.

I inhale sharply.

Then I panic.

This feels way beyond friendship.

“Sorry.” Alex’s voice is abrupt. Insecure. “This is boring. I—”

“No.” I interrupt. My synapses crackle with electricity. Does he feel it, too? “I like it. I feel very VIP.”

He breaks into a grin, but I catch his chest exhaling in relief.

“Why tech theater?” I ask, hoping talking will calm down my spasmodic heart rate. “Doesn’t everyone want to act?”

“Nah,” he says as we watch the actors run through blocking. “I’m better at designing and building. Besides, I get to watch it all happen from back here.”

I flick my gaze to the set on stage. The current scene takes place in a kitchen, but from the way the painted wooden walls are tri-folded together, I can tell it’s easily able to transform into a whole new room for a completely different scene.

“You used to write screenplays,” I say. “In middle school, remember? They were Supernatural episodes you wished existed. Oh, my god, remember the one with the murderous poltergeist?”

“Oh.” He glances down, embarrassed. “Man, those were awful.”

“They weren’t!” I mean it. “Do you still want to go to school for screenwriting?”

“I do, but I don’t think it’s such a smart idea.”

This surprises me. “Why?”

He keeps his gaze on the stage. “Because, I don’t know. That whole industry… it’s so risky—and it can be pretty unstable, from what I’ve read. Both my parents worked really hard to make sure we have everything we need. I should major in business, you know? Get a job where I can have that stability they were able to give us.”

“Is that what you really want?”

It’s the same question he asked me. I can tell he remembers, because he meets my gaze.

“No.” I’m surprised by his honesty. “But it’s the responsible thing to do. I want to make my parents proud. I don’t want them to have a son who’s in debt and who can’t find a job because I risked it all in a creative industry.”

“Alex.” His name sounds so sad in my mouth.

But he just shakes his head. “I—”

I don’t know what he’s going to say because it falls quiet on stage. The lights dim, casting darkness in our small corner.

Alex leans back ever so slightly, his shoulder brushing against mine. My stomach flips. Was that intentional? No, I’m reading too much into it. This desk is so small. It was an accident.

Right?

In the darkness, my eyes find his chest. His breaths accelerate. In-out-in-out-in-out. Does he feel it, too? Am I the only one who feels this undefined friction between us? I don’t know. I try looking at him, but I can’t read his expression in the dark.

I focus on the stage. The only source of light is the spotlight that pours down on the two actors on stage. Alex adjusts his posture, leaving a bigger gap of space between us. The hopeful expansion in my chest immediately deflates. I’m imagining this. I’m overreacting to everything.

That’s when the lights go completely dark, startling me. Scene change. It must be. We both move to get off the desk at the same time, but I stumble. He quickly grabs my shoulder to stabilize me. The warmth of his hand penetrates through the sleeve of my shirt.

He doesn’t let go.

Not immediately.

Alex’s touch isn’t the VOOSH of raw energy I felt with Jay. It’s stronger. His contact is a gravitational pull, tilting my universe off axis. My skin is made of stars, and I am spinning, spinning, spinning through space.

“Are you okay?” he says, reeling me back to reality. I’m dizzy in a way that has nothing to do with the darkness. “I should have warned you.” He lets go, and it takes everything in me not to protest. “I have to move these real quick.”

I watch as his silhouette positions new props on stage. All I can do is stand there, trying to figure out what just happened.

But if I’m being honest with myself, I already know.

Alex disappears from the main stage just as the light filters back on. He’s smiling, adjusting the back of his beanie as he heads toward me.

“Try not to look so impressed. Those things can’t move themselves.”

I laugh, but it comes out strangely. My throat is dry, and I’ve suddenly lost the ability to string together an intelligible sentence.

He scratches his neck. “I won’t make you stay. You probably have better things to do.”

The thing is, I don’t.

I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.

“No,” I tell him. “I want to stay.”

It’s hard to tell because it’s so dark, but I swear I catch him smile.

That’s when I know.

Oh god.

I like Alex.