IT'S BEEN TWELVE DAYS since I last saw Dane Anderson.
Which sucks a little bit more than I'd care to admit.
I guess you don't realize how much you enjoy arguing with someone until they're gone, and you're back to the mundanity of life at your favorite craft shop, which also so happens to be your place of work, and the establishment of your best friend's grandmother.
I've been talking to Ruby over video call pretty much everyday since the end of the program and keeping up to date with everyone else via the (annoyingly active) group chat Anaya forced us all into right before leaving for the airport.
Then we'd all teared up a little then went our separate ways with the promise to meet up again soon—Dane obviously not included in this promise or group chat.
In fact, I didn't even get to say bye to him.
Micheal Buble's playing over the speakers as I take down stock notes behind the cash register, lips pressed together as if it will give the illusion of concentration when my mind's on everything except the stock.
"—Sinclair's supposed to stop by at two."
I nearly jump at the sound of Roselyn's voice, head swinging up to locate the source. "Oh, okay, got it."
I return to my task, taking note of the fact that I don't hear her walking away, my eyes dart back up. "What?"
My boss leans onto the counter, resting her head on top of her hands as she studies me. "Something's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong, Roselyn, please."
"You've been quiet since you've gotten back despite having won a scholarship. Debt-free, Cleo! You should be on cloud nine. And yet..."
"I am on cloud nine," I force a smile. "See?"
Roselyn wags her finger at me. "Uh, uh, uh. Your eyes will always give it away."
I squint at her before shaking my head.
"It's the boy, isn't it?"
I jolt. "Um, ew. What boy?"
"Nicholas. Or whatever that little shit's name was. You feel bad that he messed up your winning speech."
"Oh," I snort, shoulders relaxing. "No, trust me. I'm very much over Nicholas Murphy."
"Then the other one—what's his name? The young man that lives here."
"No, no we're not doing this again."
"Did he give you a hard time?"
"Oh, yeah, the hardest," I say just to placate her, "Now will you please let me get back to the stock?"
"Fine. Obviously you don't feel like talking about whatever happened right now. But just let me know if you do."
How could I talk about nothing?
"Okay, great, thanks. You can go work on the card orders now," I nod, rushing to look back down at the notepad I have in front of me.
Roselyn sighs before she starts on her way to the back of the store. I wait until the door swings shut behind her before letting out a big sigh.
This is stupid.
Stupid feelings, and stupid words that I can never get out.
Who am I to care about Dane Anderson anyway? Just some girl who likes fighting with him about things that don't matter and kissing him and publicly humiliating people that wrong us?
Who am I to think he'd come say something to me before he left? Like we're two people from bubbles that can morph into one without popping.
I hear the chime above the door go off, but can't even lift my head to greet the customer, my own feelings of pity trying to drag me under and sending the waterworks up my throat in the form of an ache.
"Excuse me, can you point me toward your sympathy cards?"
My breath freezes in my chest at the familiar voice, and I find myself unable to move.
"Hey," I hear a snapping sound in front of my face, and slowly lift my eyes, blinking at the hazel that blinks back at me.
He's as perfect as usual—the way I see him when I have too much time to myself to come up with fake scenarios of how we'll meet again.
At the grocery store, reaching for the same apple. At the library, spotting each other through an empty gap on a bookshelf. At a club, hot and sweaty, finding each other in the dark.
Curly hair falls into his face, the heart under his eye extra heart-shaped, tanned skin even browner.
"You asshole."
His eyebrows shift just barely at my words, like he expected them, but still wants to humor me.
Like I'm that goddamn predictable.
"Miss me?"
"No, I didn't—"
Before I can say anything else, he's rounding the counter, and the spineless bimbo I am, I find my arms twining around him like second nature.
He smells good, signature cologne scent, arms tight around my body, safe, secure like I'm something he wants to protect. Then he's rocking me back and forth like a baby that needs to be soothed, laughing into my hair.
"You didn't miss me?"
I refrain from answering his stupid-ass question, focusing on this hug. Who knew that someone like him would even be capable of giving hugs this warm?
I want more.
I want all of his hugs, goddammit.
How could he have kept these from me for so long?
"I feel like you missed me."
"Do you ever shut up?"
"Not when it comes to you."
I breathe out heavily, face pressing into his shoulder, and then I feel that all so familiar burn at the back of my throat. "You know, I thought you forgot about me."
"Forgot about you?" If it's possible, his grip grows tighter. "I could never."
"Then why...?"
"I've been back here a couple times, but I guess you weren't working. And I would've said something to your friend, but, I don't know, I guess I was...nervous."
I pull back a bit, eyes narrowed. "You? Nervous? Yeah, right."
"I've..." He falls into a mumble, eyes avoiding mine.
"You've what?"
The short sound that leaves his lips is like the hiss of a tea kettle. "Okay, don't laugh at me for this, promise?"
"No promise. Spit it out."
He bites his tongue, eyelids lowering, and I mimic him, lips curling as he says, "Fine."
Then, "I've never felt this way about a girl before. The way I feel about you."
Oh.
The little smirk dissipates from my lips.
"These past few days away from you have been fucking wild. It's almost like I've been having withdrawal symptoms or something. I guess leaving things unresolved was a stupid way to go about telling you I care about you. A lot, actually."
I dig my nails into my wrist to see if I'm dreaming, angry, red crescents and a faint pain being the response.
Holy shit, I'm awake.
"Really?"
He nods, corner of his lips tilting up at the earnestness of my question. "So take that. I'm the one with the balls to admit it first."
I'm finding it difficult to speak now.
"I liked you when you were tearing into my angel poem and annoying me at the antique shop. I liked you when you sat next to me by the pool, and insulted me in the elevator, and argued with me about the goddamn Shakespeare poem that I honestly couldn't care less about.
I spent so long trying to convince myself that I wasn't attracted to this little, goth bully. But at some point, I realized I couldn't continue to lie to myself.
Cleodora, you make me happy. I like being around you. I think about you all the fucking time—it's absolutely infuriating.
So take that information as you will, but—"
My body seems to act on its own, pulling him closer to me, crushing him back into a hug that sounds like it knocks the wind from his lungs. I tilt my head up so my mouth is at his ear before saying, "I like you a lot too, Doggy."
He leans into my touch, moving his head just slightly so that his nose brushes mine, eyelids low. "Good to hear."
I think he's about to say something else when I hear the sound of something shattering.
Dane doesn't let go of me as I turn to look over my shoulder, his own head lifting to see who's there.
My face heats up as my eyes land on Roselyn. Piggy measuring cup in pieces on the floor.
"I knew it!"
I shake my head, mortified before turning back around to bury my face into Dane's shirt. "God help me."
His chest heaves just barely as he chuckles.
"It was a boy." I can hear her moving closer. "The boy, as a matter of fact. Don't try to hide from me, Cleo."
I wait for a couple seconds before asking, "Is she still there?"
"Still there," Dane confirms, not making any moves to pull himself away from me now that he's finally found his way back.
"Roselyn," I whine.
When I've finally gained the courage to lift up my head again, she's leaning over the front counter, eyebrows raised before she points at me, looking at Dane with a big smile on her face.
"You should have seen how miserable she's been the past few days."
"I haven't been miserable."
"Aww, Cleodora. You missed me that much?"
"This is bs," I huff, shaking my head. "Complete and utter bs."
He pokes out his lip in a fake pout that makes me want to hit him. "Don't say that. You're hurting my feelings."
"I'm going to hurt you if you don't shut up."
He leans forward, hot breath at my ear, whole demeanor switching in an instant. "God, I wish you would."
"You're fucking sick."
He smiles that too-alluring smile, leaning away from me to look back up at Roselyn. "Would you mind if Cleodora took her lunch break now?"
"No, not at all. In fact, take the day off!" Roselyn practically jumps at the question, eyes swimming with mischief. I shake my head again, in total disbelief.
"Come on. Let's go," I'm not given much of a choice as Dane spins me around, walks me toward the door like a toddler or an elderly person.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere. Nowhere. Does it really matter?"
"Fuck me for liking a poet."
"What, is that an offer?"
I let out a breath of disbelief, flipping him off over my shoulder. "Yeah, in your dreams."
"How did you know?" is his oh-so witty response.
"Enough."
He laughs again, the sound a little too pleasing to my ears, before he pushes open the door, surprisingly holding it for me.
We take the sidewalk along the side of the building until we reach a brown sedan, which he opens the passenger door of.
"Get in."
"So chivalrous," I say, but follow his direction anyway, settling down into the front.
He closes the door behind me, tossing his keys up into the air and catching them before he rounds the car to make it to the driver's seat.
As he puts it in reverse, he looks over at me. "Hungry?"
"I guess."
"What do you want?"
"I don't really care—"
"No, just tell me something. Anything."
"Fine, ice cream."
"It's ten in the morning, and that's not even food—"
"You literally just said to tell you anything."
"Okay, okay, fine. Ice cream, we're getting ice cream."
And that's how somehow we end up at a little shop nestled between two neighborhoods, hidden by trees and houses.
Dane opens the door for me in another entirely perplexing show of chivalry, yanking me up when I try to mock him by putting out my hand princess-style. When I stumble into his chest, he snorts, hand on my waist to steady me.
"You're so graceful."
I hit him in response.
Despite the apparent lack of cars outside the shop, the inside's teeming like a madhouse. We quickly order, Dane paying to make up for when he made me buy him dinner, before skipping back off to the car, him pulling me by the hand like one of those kids on leashes.
"Jesus, slow down."
"No, my ice cream's gonna melt, and I need to drive."
"Why are you driving? Better question—where are you driving?" I ask, exasperated.
He shakes his head, pulling open my door and practically shoving me inside before taking the driver's seat. "Secret."
I watch him in the reflection of the window as he puts the car in drive, expertly holding the cone in one hand and maneuvering the wheel with the other. A smirk begins to tug at my lips.
At my silence he glances over, "What?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me," he prods my shoulder with the cone hand.
"I don't know." I shrug, "This is weird. You're here. I'm here. In your car. And it feels so...normal."
"You're so eloquent," is his retort. "But, yeah, it is weird. I like it, though."
We pull into some kind of meadow clearing just then, and I raise my eyebrows. "Where are we?"
"To be honest, no clue. I come here sometimes to think." He puts the car in park under a tree before turning to face me. "For all I know, this could be someone's backyard."
"So we're trespassing?"
"You tell me."
I roll my eyes before shifting forward to look out the window, marveling at the grassy terrain. The flowers. Wide, sprawling trees and wispy, willowy ones.
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah, I have a knack for coming across beautiful things," he says, making my cheeks flame.
"Who the hell are you and what have you done to Dane?"
"Blame yourself, Cleodora. You're the one who's ruined me."
***
two more parts after this (i think)!
i'm very intrigued to see who's silently reading this book, so if u want to say anything, now's your chance lmaooo