the mirrors, she crossed her arms over her chest. Bonnie approached her with a pair of shiny white heels and Reese stepped into them, wobbling, as David came out of his corner wearing black pants and a gray shirt with a vest and tie. He looked like he was going to a gentlemen’s club—the kind with cigars and scotch—while she looked like she was going to a nightclub—the kind with a velvet rope and starlets.

“They’re high school students,” Diana said, sounding cross. “Don’t dress her like an actress, and don’t dress him like the 1950s. We’re going for young, approachable. Genuine.”

Bonnie murmured an apology, saying she was only getting started. Reese caught David looking at her in the mirror and he grinned. Nice dress, he mouthed. She blushed and took off the shoes.

After that, the clothes were a little more normal. Bonnie pulled out a pair of jeans that had a price tag so high Reese couldn’t believe she was allowed to try them on, and an appliqued T-shirt that was so soft and thin Reese had to wear a tank top beneath it and a nearly see-through sweater over it. To her relief, Bonnie gave her a pair of sneakers to go with the outfit, and this time when she walked out into the dressing room, she felt much more like herself.

“That’s more like it,” Diana said approvingly. “You looked so nervous before. This suits you much better.”

David got new jeans too, as well as a long-sleeved blue-gray button-down shirt printed with faded pinstripes, worn over a black T-shirt.

“That’s it,” Diana said, jumping up. She adjusted the sleeves on David’s shirt, rolling them up over his forearms. “You both look great. The audience will love you.” She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her burgundy suit jacket and snapped photos of the two of them. “I’ll e-mail them to you so you know how to dress on Monday. Now why don’t you change back into your own clothes, and then come out here so we can have a chat.”

Once Reese and David had emerged from their curtained corners, Diana handed Bonnie a credit card and asked her to ring up their new outfits and give them a few minutes alone. Then she gestured for David and Reese to sit on the couch while she perched on the chair nearby.

“I’ve been in touch with Jeff Highsmith, and we’re arranging to shoot the interview at your school,” Diana said.

“At Kennedy?” Reese said, surprised.

“Yes. It will underscore the fact that the two of you are still high school students. It was my idea, and Jeff agreed. If we play our cards right, everyone who sees the interview will adore you two.”

Reese glanced at David, who seemed a little uneasy. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Diana smiled. “There’s more to this interview than telling the world what happened to you last week. That’s certainly important, but there are other things that can influence the public’s perception of you.” Diana gave them both a frank look. “You must be aware that there’s been some talk about your relationship.”

Reese stiffened.

Diana reached out and patted her on the knee. “It’s mostly harmless. But the sight of the two of you holding hands really fired up the imagination, shall we say. I’ll ask Sophia to go easy on you, because you deserve your privacy. And she won’t push you too far; you’re both under eighteen and everybody has a soft spot for a high school romance. But you should be prepared to reveal something—you can determine what that is—about your relationship. If you’re simply friends, that’s fine.” Diana’s smile turned mischievous. “Although to be honest, it’s going to be hard to sell that. You both have little tells that indicate something’s going on.”

Tells? Reese wanted to ask what they were, but she bit her lip instead.

Diana continued: “The thing is, if there is something romantic going on, it’s absolutely to your advantage. You’re both attractive, smart young adults.”

Reese’s face grew warm. Maybe that was a tell. She couldn’t help it if she got embarrassed easily.

“You look good together. You obviously have a strong connection because of your debate team experience. And like I said, everybody loves a high school romance.” Diana leaned forward, her expression turning serious. “You don’t have to reveal everything. There’s no need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. But the two of you will need to discuss what you want to reveal, so that you’re both on the same page.” Diana stood. “Now I’m going to leave you alone while I make sure Bonnie’s got everything rung up correctly. Take your time and talk about this. I’ll be waiting for you outside.” She gave them a quick smile and left, shutting the door behind her.

The room seemed unnaturally quiet in her wake. When Reese shifted on her end of the couch, the slide of her jeans against the upholstery sounded as rough as sandpaper. She looked at David sideways, not quite meeting his eyes. “So,” she said, and then didn’t know what else to say.

“So,” David repeated.

Reese was nearly overcome by a desire to flee, and she dug her fingers into the edge of the couch cushion, as if to anchor herself in place. She had run away from this before. She didn’t want to run anymore, but it was so hard not to fall back into old habits. If she got up right now and left, they could avoid all of this. Maybe Sophia Curtis wouldn’t ask at all, and then Reese could entirely avoid the possibility that their kiss had been an anomaly. David wouldn’t do that, she told herself. He wouldn’t kiss you if he didn’t mean it. She made herself look at him.

He smiled at her, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I don’t think we’re just friends anymore,” he said.

Her breath got stuck in her throat. “No?” she managed to say.

David’s left hand curved over her right, his fingers gently loosening the death grip she had on the couch. “You tell me.”

A flutter of panic rose in her. There he was, at her fingertips. Every time they touched, it never failed to shock her: the intimacy of it, the frightening yet exhilarating closeness. And he was nervous. Despite the confidence with which he spoke, she felt the tightness in his stomach, his uncertainty as he reached out to her. She turned to face him, her leg sliding up onto the couch, their hands resting together on her thigh. He was reading her—the way her body leaned toward him, the blood flushing her skin, the buzz that radiated through her from where their fingers were entwined.

“I don’t think I need to tell you,” she said, and as she spoke the words out loud, wonder rose in her. This thing that had been done to them—this new sensitivity they had to each other, to the world—she was suddenly grateful for it. David could always know how she felt. She could always know how he felt. It was a gift.

“What do you want to tell Sophia Curtis?” he asked.

“I guess we can tell her the truth.”

“Maybe we should go over it, out loud.”

“Okay.” She found that she couldn’t think very clearly when he was looking at her like that—especially when she was holding his hand and knew where his thoughts were heading. If she went along with it, they wouldn’t be talking for much longer. That wouldn’t normally be a problem, except Diana Warner was waiting for them outside and they really did need to figure this out. She pulled her hand away at the same moment that David moved back, looking flushed. “Okay,” she said again, and scooted onto the chair that Diana had vacated. “So, what’s the story?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Um. We met through debate?”

“Yeah. We were partners.”

He grinned. “And you had an uncontrollable crush on me?”

“Hey, I’m not taking all the blame,” she said without thinking, and her cheeks burned. Why did she have to blush so easily? But David didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, I think the feeling was mutual,” he said. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could swear she felt the warm twist in his stomach as he spoke.

“Really?” she said, and then was overcome with shyness. She probably was the color of an eggplant by now.

David laughed. “Sometimes you’re a little dense, Reese. I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“Until nationals.” She made a face. “Where I acted like a total dork.”

“Good thing I didn’t give up.”

She smiled slightly. “You’re gonna spin it that way? It’s sort of old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

“Boy meets girl, girl rejects boy, girl dates other girl—”

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