"Well, I couldn't have done it without you, Mr. Cameraman," I reminded him with a smile. Usually I'm my own harshest critic when it comes to my news broadcasts, but I had to admit—today's expose on the underwater basket weaving club meeting at the beach instead of the pool like they were supposed to had been pretty good.
"Maybe, but the idea of disguising yourself as a beached whale was all yours," Phil told me. We'd arrived at our lockers and both spun the combination locks at the same time.
"And that's what I like best about you, Phil," I said, taking my books out one by one and balancing them on my arm. Woah, these were heavy. "You always go along with my crazy ideas."
Phil glanced over at me, a puzzled look on his face. "When do I go along with your crazy ideas?" he asked.
I thought about it for a minute. "Well, there was the time when—" I began, but I stopped myself. "No, that was your idea. But what about that time when I—no, no… that was you, too." I shrugged, slamming my locker door shut. "I guess you're right."
Phil closed his locker, too, and immediately noticed me struggling under the weigh of all my textbooks. "Hey, do you want some help with those?" I shook my head, but he had already taken most of my books from me and added them to his own pile. "So what are you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing yet," I replied. "Do you wanna hang out?"
"Yeah. How does a movie sound?"
"Great." We'd arrived at my classroom door and stood outside it as we finished our conversation. "So I guess Friday night?"
"Friday night," Phil confirmed, giving me back my books one at a time. "See ya at lunch?"
"See ya." I turned to go to my class, but at the last minute I kissed him on the cheek before I could talk myself out of it. "Thanks for carrying my books."
"No problem." Phil smiled at me before walking down the hall, leaving me to my English class.
Twenty minutes later, my teacher was giving notes on Shakespeare, and I could barely focus. I was too busy replaying the whole scene between Phil and me earlier in my head, over and over again, analyzing every detail to death. Should I have kissed him on the cheek like that? I'd done it before, and it'd never been a problem. Did anybody see? Am I not the sort of girl who can pull that kind of thing off?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the classroom door creaking open. A boy I'd never seen before walked in. He was cute, but of course, he couldn't hold a candle to Phil. He was tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a nice smile.
"Oh, you must be Trent Parker," my teacher said, putting her boring lesson on hold. "Class, this is Trent Parker. He's new here. Please make him feel welcome." She scanned the rows of desks to find an empty one. "You can take a seat behind Miss Teslow." She pointed at me.
"Lookin' good today," the new boy said in a low voice as he passed my desk.
I rolled my eyes and didn't bother glancing back at him.
Just what this school needed. Another Owen.
"Hey, Keel!" Phil was waiting for me outside my English class when the bell rang so we could walk home together. "Ready to go?"
"Yep," I replied readily. I was always ready for alone time with my favorite person in the entire world. "I just have to drop a few things off at my locker first."
Phil and I chatted easily about our days while I put everything I didn't need in my locker and got out what I did. Just as we were about to leave, I heard someone calling my name.
"Keely!"
I spun around and looked behind me to see the same cute but obnoxious boy that had been in my English class walking toward me. When he reached where Phil and I were standing, he stopped.
"Hey, um, so, you're Keely, right?" he asked, catching his breath. "I'm Trent, from your English class. Our teacher told me you could help catch me up? You know, since my English class was behind yours at my old school."
"She did?" I asked. What on earth was that woman thinking? I could barely manage a B in that class. How did she expect me to help somebody else?
"Yeah," Trent replied. "So what do you say? Can you tutor me?"
I quickly glanced over at Phil, hoping to find a trace of advice in his expression, but it was blank. What was I supposed to say? I didn't WANT to tutor him, but I kind of felt like I was obligated to.
"Um… I guess so," I finally said. "Meet me in the library after school tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Trent agreed. "Thanks, Keel. I owe you one." Then he walked away.
Once he was gone, I heard Phil mumble, "Keel."
I looked over at him. "What?"
"He called you Keel," he said, sounding really snippy. "He barely even knows you and he calls you Keel?"
"Phil, YOU call me Keel," I reminded him, feeling very confused. What had gotten into him?
"Yeah, but that's different. I've known you for longer than twenty seconds." He scowled.
I smiled. It sounded like Phil seemed worried—maybe that Trent might take his place? I could be reading too much into this, but could it have been jealousy I heard in his voice?
Just in case I was right, I put my hand on Phil's shoulder. "Don't worry, Phil. You have full Keel rights," I assured him with a light laugh. "Now come on. I need you to help me study for my math test tomorrow."
Phil lit up like a Christmas tree. He loves math, especially when he gets to explain it to people who have no idea what they're doing. People like me. He put his arm around my shoulders and my heart skipped a beat at our closeness as we walked out of school.