He Says He's Just A Friend

Chapter 23 - I Wish You Would

I cracked up at his pitiful expression. "That's just our uniform. They don't dress like that all the time."

"I beg to differ. I've seen some of those kids in town. They look pretty uptight to me. Definitely members of the Sweater Set."

"You make it sound like they're in a gang."

Clay cracked a smile, amused by the simile. "I bet they could cut you with their starched collars, before beating you over the head with the sticks up their butts."

I shook my head, snickering. "You're so dumb."

And adorable, I added in my mind.

"Please, Ems." He clasped his hands together. His bottom lip jutted out woefully as he rubbed his cheek against my shoulder like a cat seeking attention. "I'll do absolutely anything you want if you do this for me."

Those were dangerous words. Not because I would ever act on them in that way, but for the thoughts they brought up that I kept pushing aside. One day—a day I suspected was fast-approaching—I feared I'd no longer be able to bottle them up anymore.

"Fine." I threw in a groan to show my disdain so Clay would know the sacrifice I was making.

"You are a god." Clay grabbed the side of my head and pressed his lips against my cheek. He pulled back with a blank expression on his face.

That sent a torturous pang through my chest. As much as I relished Clay's friendship, I'd found it difficult to lock those feelings away. I had hoped my crush would fade over time, but it blossomed into something much stronger and deeper the more I got to know him.

To avoid having this tempting offer hanging between us, I closed my book and held it out to Clay. "Read this."

Clay took the book and looked at the cover. He flipped it over to scan the back. "I've already read this, in ninth grade."

"You said you didn't remember any of your assigned reading books."

Clay nodded. "Okay, yeah. That's true."

"It's one of my favorite books, and it's what I want in return."

Clay puckered his lips, examining the cover again. "Can't I just watch the movie?"

I flashed an annoyed grimace, raising a brow. "You said you'd do anything."

"Fuck! I said that, didn't I?" Clay sighed heavily, letting his head drop onto my shoulder. "I really thought you'd just want to take me to, like, one of those tragic German movies again. And I could just sleep through it."

"This is what I want." I tapped the book. "And I want you to really try with it."

"The things I do for you. I swear to God," Clay mumbled. He lifted his head and shook it. "Okay. I'll try."

"Thank you."

Clay flipped through the pages. "Don't you want to finish it first?"

"I've read it like fifty times. And I have another copy."

Clay stopped at a random page, then stared at me. He pointed out the penciled in words. "'Definitely gay behavior,'" he recited. "With three exclamation points?"

My cheeks burned. "I can give you the other copy. It doesn't have all my notes."

Clay snapped the book shut and clutched it against his chest. "I'd rather read this one and see what you thought. It's more fun that way."

"If you say so."

He opened the book again to flip through the pages. "I don't remember there being any gay characters in this. Wasn't it written in, like, the 1920s? I didn't even think they could put gay people in stuff back then."

"You'd be surprised. There are queer characters in literature throughout history. But in the case of Gatsby, it's debatable. I won't spoil it, but some people say a certain character is gay, some people say that the character isn't. You can clearly see which side of the argument I fell on."

"Now I'm super curious to read it." Clay slapped my thigh and jumped up. "Well, I gotta go."

"You just got here."

He raised the book. "I have homework now. Plus, I have to pick Rachel up from practice." Clay flashed a brilliant grin that melted my heart. "You could ride along if you want."

"I'd love to, but I ordered food." I picked up my phone from the arm of the sofa to check the time. "I've still got twenty minutes till it gets here."

"I can't wait that long. Rachel might strangle me if I'm late to pick her up again." He backed toward the door, keeping his eyes trained on me. "But I'll pick you up at eight. Okay?"

"I'm counting the minutes." I said it sarcastically, but I kind of genuinely meant it. I always eagerly anticipated my time with Clay. Only he could have me looking forward to a party with my classmates.