As You Walk on By


 
 
 
 ALSO BY JULIAN WINTERS
 
 Right Where I Left You
 The Summer of Everything
 How to Be Remy Cameron
 Running with Lions
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 VIKING
 An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York
 
 
 
 First published in the United States of America by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2023
 Copyright © 2023 by Julian Winters
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 Ebook ISBN 9780593206522
 Cover art © 2023 by Cannaday Chapman
 Cover design by Kaitlin Yang
 Design by Monique Sterling, adapted for ebook by Andrew Wheatley
 This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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 FOR ALL THOSE
 who are too afraid to dream big—I dare you to believe in yourself. Win when the world expects you to lose.
 
 
 1
 THE RULES OF A DARE
 Rule number one to accepting any dare: never agree to something you’re not 99.5 percent positive you can complete.
 It’s the easiest rule to honor.
 Never ask a random peer an invasive question if they look like they’ve had a bad day and could potentially murder you on the spot. Don’t agree to eat a ghost pepper if you have a low tolerance for spicy foods. Absolutely no streaking in a neighbor’s yard if you can’t outrun their usually playful but extremely protective Akita.
 On second thought, no streaking. Period.
 I know all this by heart. I also know the second Jay Scott opens his mouth to say, “Theoooooo, you’re up!” at the beginning of lunch, I’m doomed. As if this never-ending week of studying and exhausting track practices weren’t enough.
 Now it’s a Dare Day too.
 Since freshman year, Friday dares have been a staple for me and my two besties, Jay and Darren. Back then, we were awkward, hormonal nobodies. The self-appointed TNT—The Nameless Trio. As juniors, we’re a tight, debatably corny crew who’ve become the heart and soul of the boys’ varsity track-and-field team. But the dares were the gateway to breaking out of our shells here at Brook-Oak.
 Jay started it all. On an arbitrary Friday in November, he crowed, “Someone dare me to do something!” It’s as if he knew we were all tired of trying and failing to find our footing in a new environment. Out of the three of us, he’s always been the most outgoing. Ready to jump into a fire without looking.
 So I did.
 “I dare you to run around the quad three times, as fast as you can . . . shirtless.”
 Not my most creative effort. What can I say? I’m not my best when put on the spot. He did it anyway because, of course. It’s Jay.
 A month later, he dared Darren to eat three packets of sriracha with no water. Then Darren dared me to propose to Brianna Matthews using only Taylor Swift lyrics. Once a month, on a Friday during lunch, Dare Day rolls around. It’s an established tradition. And no matter how much we’ve grown out of it, none of us have the heart to disrupt the status quo. Least of all me.
 There are some unspoken rules to this: Nothing illegal. Nothing that’ll cause too much bodily harm. Only things that’ll earn us weird looks or gauche laughs. Oh, and the occasional after-school detention after jumping on one of the quad’s tables to sing Mariah Carey’s classic “Always Be My Baby” for all to witness.
 Not bragging, but I nailed that performance. Even added a little falsetto at the end to noisy applause.
 That’s another bonus: the attention from other students. I can genuinely say I’ve made several acquaintances—authentic friends too—from the stunts Jay or Darren have challenged me to do.
 The dares solidified our group. We find ways to get in trouble together so no one takes the fall alone. All for one, one for all or whatever. Like last month when Darren had to reenact a scene from Magic Mike . . . shirtless.
 (Seminudity is a recurring theme.)
 Anyway, Jay and I stood shoulder to shoulder with him as we all got scolded by Vice Principal Clarke for disrupting the lunch period.
 But none of our history prepares me for Jay’s challenge.
 “I dare you to ask Christian Harris to prom.”
 “Oh. Shit.”
 In my periphery, Darren’s thick eyebrows shoot up his forehead.
 We’re outside. Early April in Louisville means the weather hasn’t turned violently hot yet, but my face is on fire. My breath catches uncomfortably in my throat.
 It’s not an unreasonable dare. Public humiliation is very on brand for us.
 It’s just that . . .
 Okay, I swear I’m not a serial crusher. Anymore. But briefly, I was a seasonal crusher. Fall of freshmen year, I was all about Jonah and his football-camp calves. Post-winter-break, it was nothing but Danesh and his sweater obsession.
 Then came sophomore year and Christian Harris.
 Brook-Oak is a magnet school. Christian’s enrolled in the Young Performers of Tomorrow program. I’m in the High School University program. But all general academic classes are taken in the main