17.

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While I'd been convinced I'd be the one who had to make all the moves in our interactions, Atticus had proven me wrong last night. He definitely had moves once he finally decided to use them. 

Before kissing Atticus I was pretty sure I was going to be his first kiss. After he tangled his fingers in my hair and somehow managed to be tender and forceful at the same time, I was the one left flushed and flustered like it was my first kiss. And I loved it. 

Too bad Chiara seemed to catch her son's I'm-kissing-someone brainwaves and came up the stairs a few minutes later. She didn't even come up to the attic, but it was like a warning. A warning saying: hey, I'm here. If you were thinking you could kiss in private under this roof. Guess what? You can't.

Atticus and I had only needed to exchange a quick look to know our making out session was over.

I couldn't speak for Atticus, but I ended up on my bed with lips that still tingled. Later, the tingles made me slip a hand into my pants, imagining Atticus doing the same on his side of the wall.

The next morning before school I turned to the all-knowing Google and asked: 'is it bad to date your stepbrother?' 

It was a short search. Opinions appeared to be divided. Some people thought of it as icky and a big no, while surprisingly the majority seemed to agree there was no problem if there was no blood relation and you didn't grow up together. 

Still, all the while I kept thinking about the people who worked at the data department and could see my search. There probably wasn't any chance they were looking, but I still felt judged. Like a chat message could pop up at any time saying: 'out of all the thousands of students at your new school, you pick your stepbrother? Really? What's wrong with you?' 

Sitting in the car, in the backseat with Atticus wasn't better. Atticus and I both behaved like we always did, staring out the window and not giving each other special attention aside from a quick, shy smile when we made eye contact. Yet, I still had the feeling Chiara was catching our brainwaves. She seemed to glance at us through the rearview mirror a bit more than usual. 

I was probably totally  imagining things, but both Atticus and I couldn't seem to get out of the car quickly enough. 

Atticus didn't quietly leave me at the entrance of the school today. If we weren't in public, he would've kissed me again. I could see it in his smouldering eyes, and the feeling was mutual. 

"See you at Biology," he said.

I learned all over again that his frowns were just as cold as his smiles were warm. Atticus smiling gently made my heart want to flutter out of my chest and fly after him instead as we had to take a different turn to go to our respective classrooms. 

Jonah cornered me in the men's bathroom before class. There was a grin tugging at his lips as he raised a half-hearted fist at me.

"Just to get it out of the way, here's the obligatory gay best friend threat: hurt Atty and I'll give you matching black eyes like your panda painting. It will not look as cute on your face."

For a split second I was thrown off that Jonah already knew. For such a shy guy, Atticus sure moved fast telling him stuff, but I didn't mind. And I was sure Atticus knew I didn't mind.

I grinned at Jonah.  "What? With those stick arms?" I teased him, reaching for his right upper arm and giving it a squeeze. 

"Hey! They're stronger than they look!"

"I bet they are." I laughed, holding the bathroom door open for him so he could step into the hallway with me. 

"But we're technically not datin' yet, Jonah." 

"Oh my gosh, you two are dating?" 

Mandy stood at the door of the women's bathroom together with Kim, and they were both gaping at us. 

"No, Mandy, no!" Jonah called out, snorting. "Not dating. He said: not dating. Find your new tasty morsel of gossip elsewhere." 

"You don't have to laugh about it, I'm a great catch," I protested, which only made Jonah laugh. 

"Yeah yeah," he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me along. "Let's go to class before certain people behind us get even more ideas." 

I sat down next to Corey, since Jonah took the seat with Becky. 

Corey pushed a flyer in my hands immediately. "You could use the practice. You should go," he said before I even had a chance to read the title, let alone where I 'should go.'

As expected though, a football player was depicted on the flyer. The flyer was made by an amateur. My mom and I would've never placed the letters needlessly off-centre where they currently were, and the font was a bit difficult to read. If they could just let me adjust— 

I turned my editor's brain off. Okay, that was besides the point. 

"Football team bondin' bootcamp," I read out loud. "Our trainings are fun, engagin', and made challengin' for all levels." I turned to Corey and laughed. "Alright, hint received. I could use the practice." 

I swear I was trying to stick to Dad's training schedule. But I was sticking my hand into bags of potato chips even more. 

"Are you goin' there?" I then asked Corey, indirectly actually trying to ask if Atticus would go there. 

"Yeah, it was fun last year." Corey shrugged. "It's not that expensive and I can't ever get enough practice. Besides, coach Turner approves of it. We get to play with guys from other teams too, which can bring new perspectives and ideas." 

"Yeah, that's smart," I told Corey, though I preferred playing with guys from my own team. 

A fact I mentioned to Atticus during our Biology class later.  

"You heard about that football bootcamp? Have you ever been there before?" I casually asked, adjusting my microscope until the image was sharp. 

"Yeah, I've been there," Atticus replied. "It's good practice. And there's no evening program."

My eyes shot to Atticus, who was still peering into his own microscope. His cheeks were flushed, which confirmed my suspicions on what he was hinting at. My stomach made a summersault at the prospect of more alone time. 

I hummed. "You'd say there's a lot of free time to do what you want?" 

"Yeah, definitely. Last summer, one guy even went on a date in the town nearby after practice hours. " 

"...Interesting." I turned back to my plant cell observation work, scribbling down a few notes in my notebook. Actually, I had no idea what exactly I was writing down. My attention was nowhere near biological functions; nowhere near plant biological functions at least. Atticus didn't ask me directly, but I was going to consider this him asking me out on a date. 

"I think I'm goin' to sign up then," I said. "Will I see you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Atticus replied without missing a beat. 



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