Our advisor, Ms. Yates, would sit at the back of her classroom, observing, and I wanted her vacated desk at the front of the room. At our last meeting, Aidan had taken her desk in a show of presidential authority. But as vice president, I was the one who needed room for paperwork. A better boyfriend than Aidan would have let me sit at the desk.A better girlfriend than me would have let him have it.And that pretty much summed up our three years of dating.The bell rang just as I reached the room. I stood outside the door, waiting for Ms. Yates to make her coffee run to the teachers’ lounge and for her freshman science class to flood past me. A few of them glanced at me, their eyes widening as if I were a celebrity. I remembered this feeling from when I was an underclassman, looking up to my brother and his friends. It was strange to be on the receiving end.As the last of the ninth graders escaped down the hall, I stepped into the room, which should have been empty.Instead, Sawyer De Luca sat behind Ms.
