Kate in Waiting by Becky Albertalli (ereader with android txt) 📕

Not close enough for kissing—anyway, Andy thinks making out on school grounds is both slutty and basic—but definitely close enough for secrets. Flirty secrets. Inside jokes. Love confessions.

Wow.

I’m just.

So happy for Andy. Super happy. Obviously. Didn’t think I’d have to be happy for him so soon, but that’s—

Okay, now Anderson is literally tousling Matt’s hair, making it stick up in peaks. Man. Rehearsal’s so fun. I’m so glad I get to witness this romance unfolding. It’s going to be a great ninety minutes, a great month, a great forever.

It’s like I can suddenly see our entire lives unspooling before me. Anderson texting me pictures from Matt’s college campus next year. Or, like, an ironic-but-not-really-ironic photo of a sock on the doorknob of Matt’s dorm room. Yeah.

But maybe I’ll get numb to it. Maybe eventually this sort of thing stops hurting. I’ll play guitar and sing at their wedding—something romantically offbeat, like “With You” from Pippin. And obviously I’ll be ready to fight Anderson when he starts getting too attached to weird celebrity baby names. I’m going to be an excellent third wheel. Best third wheel in history. Maybe it’s what I was built for.

“Okay!” Ms. Zhao calls, checking the time on her phone. “Let’s get started. I need Dauntless, Winnifred, Aggravain, Sextimus, Wizard. Center stage. Let’s hustle.” She claps her hand around her fist like a coach, and Mr. D takes it to the next level by pounding out a frantic hurry-up song on the piano.

I reach the front of the auditorium just as Anderson’s stepping onstage, but I can’t exactly slide into the now-empty seat beside Matt. That’s just too thirsty, even for me. But then again, if I sit in one of the rows behind Matt, he might not even see me. And I don’t think we’re scheduled to run any of the Larken/Harry scenes today. So theoretically, Matt and I could go the whole rehearsal without interacting, and then I’ll go home feeling growly and strange, and then Anderson will text me to tell me all the swoony details of their new romantic lives together.

And I’ll just be so happy for him! Because those are the ground rules!

Whatever. I’m sitting in the front. It doesn’t have to be thirsty. I’ll just slide in here at the end of the row, a few seats down from Matt. Of course, if Matt wants to, he’s perfectly welcome to scoot closer. I settle my backpack on the floor in front of me, making it my footrest, and then I glance sideways to see if Matt’s noticed me.

He waves.

I wave back. And of course, my phone slides out of my hand, hitting the floor with a nice loud thud.

Oof. I mean the floor’s linoleum, and I’ve got a decent phone case, and at least it was just phone-loud, not lunch-tray-loud. Though somehow I manage to catch Noah’s eye onstage—he immediately grins, raises his eyebrow, and mouths, ooooooooooh. Just what I need.

But then Matt slides down the row, resettling right beside me. “Hey,” he whispers. “Phone okay?”

“I think so. Nothing fatal,” I say.

“Just a flesh wound.”

Anderson’s watching from the stage, but who cares? It’s not like I’m breaking any ground rules. Matt is absolutely free to move closer to me and be cute and make cute Monty Python references, and I’m absolutely free to giggle and grin right back at him.

And hey. Anderson’s free to feel happy for me.

Scene 33

Mr. Edelman, king of hands-on teaching, gives us another worksheet packet in history class. But with a twist. One, we have to work independently and in silence. Two, anyone who finishes the packet by the end of the period gets to opt out of Friday’s pop quiz.

“How is it a pop quiz if we know it’s on Friday?” Anderson murmurs.

“Who cares?” I’ve got my textbook open and my mechanical pencil poised and ready. I am very much a fan of opting out of quizzes.

“Hey.” There’s a tap on my back. “Psst. Little Garfield.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What do you want, Kappy?”

That throws him.

He opens his mouth to reply, pauses, shuts it again, points a finger at me, and says, “No.”

“No what?”

“Kappy. I don’t like that.”

I widen my eyes. “You seem to like it just fine when Madison says it.”

“I do not like it just fine when Madison says it.” Noah plants his elbows on his desk and leans forward, cupping his chin in his non-cast hand. “Okay, Little Kate—”

“Yes, Kappy?”

“Ha,” he says. “Ha.”

I shrug with my palms up and turn back to my worksheet.

He taps me again. “Okay, Kate.”

“Shh. We’re supposed to whisper,” I say.

“No we’re not,” says Anderson. “We’re not supposed to be talking.”

“Whispering isn’t talking,” whispers Raina.

“Anyway,” Noah says, leaning toward me.

“No talking, please,” says Mr. Edelman.

“Anyway,” Noah whispers. “Kate. Question.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Are you going to the block party Saturday?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“You should come!”

“Go with Ryan.” I start to turn around, but Noah taps me again. I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“Okay, but hear me out.”

“What?”

“Ryan has baseball,” says Noah.

“No he doesn’t.”

Noah makes a face at me. “What happened to you not following sports?”

“Kappy, I live with Ryan.”

“Touché! Also, hey, let’s not make Kappy a thing.”

“Please be quiet,” Mr. Edelman says, rubbing his temples. “Please.”

“Mr. Edelman has a migraine,” whispers Brandie.

“So are you coming?”

“To the block party?”

Noah nods and locks eyes with me, clearly going for an eyegasm. Ha ha ha. No.

“Noah. What’s your endgame here?”

He looks almost wounded. “What do you mean?”

“What’s your endgame? Why do you need me to go to the block party? What do you want—more singing lessons?”

“No—what? I’m already great.”

Anderson and Raina both snort.

“Kate.” Noah sighs. “I don’t have an endgame. I just wanted to thank you, okay? For the tray? I feel bad that you had to deal with my mess.”

“You feel bad?”

He shrugs.

“Maybe you should thank Madison.”

“Already did.”

“Oh, I bet.”

Anderson laughs out loud.

“So you want me to hang out with you at the block party,” I say, “as a thank-you to me.”

“Yes.” He