Life is Liz (LiL, #1)

Chapter 59: Panic

Maybe what I felt at the moment was completely wrong, but the truth was that however much I liked Sam I didn't miss him. I needed some space to breathe. I needed time alone. I couldn't remember the last time I'd picked up a book. I was in need of time for myself to relax because the last weeks, months even, had been so stressfully eventful that I was at my limit.

Perhaps I was a horrible girlfriend for actually feeling this way, but I couldn't help it. I wouldn't say that Sam was particularly clingy, but on days like these I was excessively thankful that we weren't attending the same school.

In the end, I decided to get over myself and told him to pick me up in an hour. He seemed ecstatic. Whereas my excitement was limited. I felt so damn bad for not wanting to see him I couldn't not agree to meet with him.

"Hey, there." I turned to my left when my brain registered his voice. Green eyes met my own for a swift moment before they were focused on the object in his hands. I exhaled inaudibly after greeting him back. Since when had things become so awkward between us? 'After last Sunday' would be the potentially right answer. But that'd happened after he distanced himself from me. The aloofness on his part was worrying me. It wasn't like him to shy away from conversations. The Ryan Alexander Johnson I knew was bold and daring, reckless and straightforward. He wouldn't hold back or dance around a topic.

Lately, I got the feeling that he wanted to speak his mind, but at the last minute he always bit his tongue. It almost seemed like he was scared of something. Hell, if I could figure out what it was that got him acting completely out of character I'd try to fight it with him.

Sadly, he was fully closed off these days. I couldn't get through to him. It was legit like talking to a wall.

However, I wouldn't stop trying.

"How are you doing over there?" I poked his arm with the point of the still wet sword and left a streak of glittery gray on his skin. Oops. Sorry not sorry.

Feeling the wetness on his bicep he zeroed in on the stain I left on his bare upper arm. Then his eyes were on me. "Careful there, little one."

"What?" I asked innocently. "This was totally an accident."

"Mhm, believe me you don't want to start a war you can't win, sweetheart."

I only shrugged. He gave me one last warning look then turned back to his paint. My lips curled upwards. With his back to me I took the opportunity and gently dragged the blade across his neck. I retreated quickly. He swiveled around a second later with a murderous gaze. A playful twinkle in his eyes that made my heart beat faster.

"Oh, you're on."

I couldn't so much as blink before he reached for his brush and painted a line of baby blue down my complete arm.

I gasped.

"Ryan!"

"Hey, don't give me that look. You started it."

Abandoning the sword, I dove for my own paint brush, dipping it in silver and attacking the side of his neck.

That's how our paint fight started. Surprisingly, the others in the room weren't all that interested in our fun, instead everyone was conversing with their friends while attempting to also get some work done.

Our multicolored battle ended with us laughing and beaming at one another, completely covered in cold paint. We were a colorful mess of blue and gray. Our arms, necks, faces, our clothes, even my hair wasn't spared the colorful torture.

"Gray looks good on you," I joked, smiling so wide my cheeks hurt.

"Blue is definitely your color, Peanut." He smiled just as big.