The Next Door Neighbour

Chapter 16//Fight / Flight

Shailene's POV

A KISS ON THE CHEEK. That's all it was. But still, it was all Shailene could think about.

She'd fallen asleep with a smile on her face and woken up with the sun. The early morning sky was a kaleidoscope of colours; pink and yellow and orange painted by the rising sun. She hadn't meant to wake up so early, but she didn't mind it either; after all, she had a busy day of overthinking to get started on.

Shailene knew she was happy, but she couldn't remember why. Something had happened last night, but what? Her mind ran through the night before like a race in an art gallery, passing by memories of the day like they were paintings on a wall. She remembered cleaning up the house, getting food ready, and baking with Brayden for her birthday party. She saw herself laughing with Summer and filling Holland in on Maya and her white converse. She remembered Sam slamming a cupcake into Christian's face before fleeing faster than a roadrunner. And then, finally, she remembered going outside with Brayden. Being thrown over his shoulder. Receiving roses. Kissing his cheek.

Thinking about the night before made Shailene's pulse race and her cheeks get hot. There were so many things she'd wanted to say, but for once, she'd held back. She'd closed her mouth and let her body language speak for her. And then, eventually, her lips had spoken, too.

She'd made a move. Would he make the next one? If the way he occasionally lost focus and glanced down at her lips every once in a while — it wasn't exactly subtle — was any indication, then he would soon. And she was like, 99% sure he liked her back. He'd bought her roses, for heaven's sake. That was Romance 101.

But that 1%... that 1% belonged to Maya. The same Maya who wore white high tops, apparently. The same Maya who'd heard her conversation in the bathroom. The same Maya who knew pretty much everything now. There was still a chance he liked Maya.

Shailene hated the uncertainty she felt about Brayden's feelings towards her. The need to know how he felt was eating her alive. She needed to know if what she felt ran through his veins too. If he knew his eyes were magnets that she couldn't look away from, even if she tried. If he wanted to kiss her and run his hands through her hair, like she wanted to. If he wanted to write a song to the beating of her heart. And most importantly, if he knew she wanted to mean something real to him. To be the girl he painted on a blank canvas, pink like the heart she wore on her sleeve.

Or the colour of her rosy cheeks.

• • •

     "You left this in my car."

     Shailene wheeled around in the busy cafeteria, coming face-to-face with none other than Ky Morrison. Ignoring the people brushing past her on all sides, she gripped her plastic tray tightly in her hands and forced herself to look him in the eyes. For whatever reason, she'd woken up that Monday morning so totally not in the mood for anything, Ky's fuckboy ass included. He looked just as annoyed as she felt, holding up her dark grey hoodie in one hand.

     "That was, like, a month ago," she stated flatly.

     "Yeah, well, I forgot about it," he grumbled, pushing it towards her.

     "Thanks." She took the hoodie, and had just started to turn her uninterested ass back around when he stopped her, his hand on her arm.

     "I have a favour to ask you," Ky said.

     "I don't owe you anything," she answered, shaking his arm off.

     "I never said you did," he said quickly, throwing his hands up in probably the only sign of surrender he'd ever made. "Just...hear me out."