The Next Door Neighbour

Chapter 18//Now or Never

Shailene's POV

     SHAILENE HAD A BAD FEELING about today. It started out like this: she fell out of bed. Actually. Lying on the floor, face pressed into the carpet, ribs screaming in protest. Hopefully, the rest of the day wouldn't go like that, riddled with metaphorical face plants — or physical, for that matter — but that was probably wishful thinking. It was a crappy start to a crappy day, she just knew it.

     Then, her day went like this: she missed the bus. But do you know who just happened to drive by, offering to give her a ride? Can you guess? The last person she wanted to talk to at the moment — Brayden. She took him up on the offer and said all of three words ("good," "morning," and "yeah" — clearly, it was a stimulating conversation). Sitting stiffly on the plush passenger seat, she tried not to think about the other times she'd been in that car, driving to the market, to school, back home, to the Pumpkin Patch.

     Best not to dwell on the past, she thought. And then she told herself to let it go.

     But the thing was, she couldn't. She'd seen her best friend locking lips with the guy she really liked, and even worse, she'd been wrong all along. It hadn't been Maya after all, it had been her best friend — and that made it even worse. Not to mention that Holland had a boyfriend who she was totally head-over-heels for. Or was she? Who could say for sure? Not Shailene, not anymore.

     Shailene had a few questions, to say the least. But what could she ask? Holland and Brayden didn't know that she'd seen what she'd seen. They didn't know it was all she was thinking about. All they knew was that something felt off with her, and until she could sort this mess out, it would stay that way.

But how could she fix this? Opportunity struck, right there in that car. She could say something, anything. But then again, so could he. Shailene was done being the only one who ever put an effort into conversations. She was tired of being the one who owed an explanation.

It was in their hands.

     Brayden let Shailene control the music — he always did. God knows she'd complain incessantly if she didn't. But this time, she did it silently (controlled the music silently, that is, not complained silently — although she did that too). She scrolled through the music on his phone, looking for anything that stuck out. Finally, she got tired and just pressed shuffle. Lane Boy by Twenty One Pilots filtered through the car speaker, and Brayden did this weird kind of wince/cringe thing that Shailene didn't even try to understand. Oddly, the song kind of reminded her of being on the bus. Shaking her head, she skipped the song and put the phone down, staring out the window until they were finally at school.

Brayden parked the car in silence, but he stopped her as her fingers were reaching for the door handle. His hand reached out gently towards her, but then he seemed to think better of it, reaching up to run it through his hair instead.

"Are you okay?" he asked, like he was nervous.

"Yeah," she answered, like she wasn't. "Thanks for the ride."

Then she reached for the handle, and this time he didn't stop her.

• • •

The rest of her day went like this: "Hey, you," somebody said from a few feet behind her. Shailene turned away from her locker to see Summer, holding a paperback to her chest and smiling brightly.

"Hey, Summer," she said, smiling earnestly for the first time that day. "What's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to walk to the cafeteria with you," she answered, eyes shifting away.