“You,” someone barks at me, clutching my arm tighter than necessary and detaining me for the time being, “where do you think you’re going?”
I give Lola a puzzled look as I turn to look at her, not quite getting why her nails are digging into my skin to the point of pain.
I fleetingly glance at her hand since she still hasn’t removed it before I meet her narrowed eyes and blink at her blankly.
“Um, home?” I reply after little deliberation, considering that school’s done for the day, but my statement comes out as a question because I get the feeling I won’t actually be going home.
“No, you’re not,” Lola argues, shaking her head, but I already knew she’d say something like that.
“I’m not?” I echo, lifting my eyebrows, waiting for her elaborate.
“No, you promised to tell me what’s up between you and the new guy, so you’re not wiggling out of this. Don’t even think about it,” Lola warns me, shaking her index finger at me before she starts tugging me towards her car and making me stumble along the way.
I blow out a sigh, realizing that as much as I wanted to believe it, I’m not in the clear yet. Not even the whole Rob drama didn’t put her mind off it and I really thought she’s forgotten all about that weirdness.
“Can I just tell Brady not to wait for me? He was supposed to be giving me a ride back home,” I explain to her, looking over my shoulder in hopes that I’d catch a sight of my boyfriend somewhere in the crowd, but unsurprisingly, I don’t. He’s probably already by his car, talking to some of our classmates and waiting for me to show up.
“I already talked to him. Unless you want him to come with, so that you can explain to both of us why the new student makes you blush like a virgin nun,” Lola quips, glancing at me from the corner of her eye as a half-smile, half-smirk tugs at her lips while she keeps tugging at my hand.
I don’t even bother correcting her that there aren’t actually non-virgin nuns.
This time I do feel myself blush in indignation and I get antsy, like there’s an invisible noose tightening around my neck.
Before I know it, I’m shaking my head no, dismissing every idea of asking Brady to tag along because god knows he wouldn’t want to hear this.
Lola finally lets go of me, but only because we’re standing right in front of her car, a very old and yet very grand Mustang, and I rub my arm protectively. She really did think that I might make a run for it.
Instead of acknowledging the truth, which is that yes, Locker Boy does have a surprising effect on me, I skirt around the topic altogether.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as Lola and I get into the car and buckle up, resigned with the fact that I’m sort of being kidnapped.
“For milkshakes,” Lola responds, checking the rearview mirror and starting the car as I nod in approval. I’m definitely craving some strawberry milkshake at the moment, so if the price I have to pay to get it is to get kidnapped, then so be it. Worse things have happened.
I turn on the radio, hoping to prevent us from speaking during the car ride and Lola doesn’t object or ask any uncomfortable questions. That is, until we’re finally seated in the local bistro and enjoying our milkshakes.
“So,” Lola drawls, pausing to slurp on her yummy chocolate milkshake, “who goes first?”
“You,” I reply without thinking, harboring the silly hope that if I get her talking about Rob for long enough, every thought of Ethan would flee her mind, “what going on with Rob?”
Lola grimaces, like she smells something bad and pushes her milkshake away, no longer stomaching the thought of drinking it.
“We both agreed that sleeping together was a mistake,” she states, at which I have to physically stop myself from scoffing you think, “so we’re-“
“Acting like it never happened?” I jump in, recalling Brady’s earlier words.
“More or less,” Lola confirms, then shrugs, “it’s really exhausting, though. I’ve never really liked Rob,” which doesn’t quite explain why she jumped in bed with him, but I don’t mention that to her because I don’t think she’d appreciate my attempt at dry humor, “and I like him even less now, but even so, I have to be all buddy-buddy with him and act like I can’t care less because I swear Rob thinks I’m madly in love with him or something,” she snorts, waving the whole idea off by rolling her eyes dramatically and slurping her milkshake quite loudly.
“And are you?” I can’t help myself but wonder, even if it seems venturing into a very dangerous territory. “In love with him?” I know asking Lola this is like asking to be hanged, but my curiosity is far too great to be denied.
“No,” she sputters, affronted, widening her eyes, “god, no. Not in a million years.” She shudders at the idea, so I shrug at her, not quite convinced she’s telling the whole truth myself.
“If you say so,” I mumble before sucking on the straw and glancing away from a red-faced Lola, realizing that maybe arguing with her when she’s so worked-up about it is not my best idea.
Eventually, if she’s hiding something, that is, she’ll come clean.
“Now what about you?” Lola asks, clearing her throat, probably more than happy to talk about something other than Rob. “Is there something I need to know?” she wonders, leaning over the table to catch my gaze, even though I pointedly avoid it. “Something to do with the new guy?”
“It’s nothing,” I grunt, “I met him today by the lockers and he said some stuff,” I say to her, my strained voice drifting off as I think back on what happened, “he was really rude and-“
“You like him,” Lola observes, using her teasing voice that has got me flushing under her scrutiny.
“I definitely don’t,” I counter back, sitting up and puffing out my chest, “I don’t even know him,” I reason, which isn’t far from the real truth at all. None of us do, considering he just came to town, but even so, there’s still something about Ethan that has me on edge.
“Whatever you say, Syd,” Lola agrees with me and even holds up her hands in surrender, but it’s all just for show. “I call it like I see it. And, besides, I know you. I think you like him,” she claims, and then she shrugs offhandedly before she leans back in her seat.
“I’d like to slap him all right,” I mutter, but Lola hears me nonetheless and cracks an amused smile.
“Well, as long as you don’t act upon your feelings, having a crush on the new guy is not the worst thing that can happen,” Lola concludes, getting all thoughtful on me, “just don’t forget you have a boyfriend,” she reminds me, as if I ever do. Forget about Brayden, that is.
“First of all, I haven’t forgotten about Brayden,” I tell Lola who doesn’t look as convinced as I sound, “and secondly, there’s no reason to worry because my crush on the new guy is nonexistent. I don’t even know how you got it into your head that I like Ethan in the first place,” I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air exasperatedly because I really can’t figure out why we’re even having this discussion to begin with. Between Noah and Brayden, I hardly have room to worry about another guy screwing up my life and screwing with my head.
“Can we change the subject now?” I ask after I’m finished just as Lola opens her mouth to retort and most likely start another argument that she won’t finish until I’ve raised the white flag and surrendered in defeat. I’m not even sure I want to hear what she wants to say because she’s just given me enough food for thought. “Please?” I practically beg of her when I see that she’s not quite swayed yet.
But reluctantly, Lola agrees not to broach that subject, the subject of my love life and we start discussing prom, and college, and Erin’s rendezvouses, anything but boys instead.
*
Lola drops me off at my house a couple of hours later and as I walk in, I realize that we have company.
Noah rises from the couch as I stand stupidly in the doorway, afraid to move and breathe in fear the walls will close in on me, too stupefied to have him show up here out of the blue. Noah, however, mistakes my surprise for confusion because he soon speaks up, “Erin let me in,” he explains, slowly coming towards me and the pounding of my heart is getting louder with each step he takes in my direction, so I take a step back, not letting him close the distance between us.
Where is my mom now that I need her?
“Um,” I croak out, racking my brain for something to say to him that won’t sound suspicious, but my IQ level dropped drastically since the moment I saw him in my living room, making himself at home, “where’s my mom?” I ask helplessly, looking around, as if she might come walking around the corner and dispense the tension before it becomes too unbearable. Thankfully, Noah doesn’t pick on the fact that I refer to her as my mom and not Erin, like I always do.
“She had to leave,” Noah tells me, shrugging, but luckily, he doesn’t come near anywhere me, probably guessing it’s not a good idea to approach a scared animal, ready to snap, “but she told me I can wait for you.”
Of course, she did, I think to myself, resisting the urge to scoff.
Erin would gladly adopt Noah if she could.
“I hope that was okay,” Noah adds when too lost in my own thoughts, I fail to respond to him.
“Of course it was,” I blurt out too quickly, then look away, breaking eye contact with him, “why wouldn’t it be?”
To keep myself moving and occupied, I go to the kitchen and soon after Noah follows, hot on my heels.
I open the fridge and look inside, inspecting its contents. I see a six-pack of beer and I figure I’m definitely going to need one if I’m to survive this afternoon, so I throw one at Noah, too.
“Because you’re avoiding me,” Noah explains in such an offhanded manner that I start coughing uncontrollably.
It’s really not what he says, it’s the way he says it that’s got me wishing the word will open up and swallow me whole, saving me from further embarrassment. Even if I really can’t figure out how he knows I’m avoiding him to begin with. I really thought he wouldn’t notice that I’m trying to make myself scarce.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I deny, even though I’m lying through my teeth. When I finally face him, I can clearly see Noah isn’t buying it since he rolls his blue eyes at me and sets his beer on the counter.
“Come on, Syd, I know you,” Noah tries to cajole me, “you don’t have to lie to me. What happened? Something’s up,” he says and Noah sounds neither mad nor annoyed that he’s caught me lying to his face. Instead he’s merely curious and as always, willing to help me, even when I’m pushing him away.
“Noah,” I laugh uneasily, forcing myself to hold his questioning gaze, even if all I want to do is run into the opposite direction, “that’s stupid. Nothing’s happened. Everything’s awesome.”
Except for the fact that you’re apparently crazy in love with me and I had no goddamn idea.
Noah doesn’t say a word. Instead we engage in a staring match that I know I’m going to lose because there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to keep it up for much longer. I crack very easily under pressure, but the last thing I need is to spill out the beans.
“How did you do on your test?” Noah suddenly asks, blinking and breaking the staring contest. I blink back at him, confusedly.
“Um, what test?” I query carefully, trying to remember me having a test today, but I come up blank.
“Your biology test,” Noah stresses, giving me a pointed look that I know what means perfectly well as the blood drains from my face, “how did it go?”
We both know he knows that I’m not taking biology and that’s a load of bogus.
He’s trying, but failing not to be smug about it as he crosses his arms across his chest and waits for me since the ball’s in my court now.
I have two options in front of me: I can keep up the farce and get myself tangled up into bigger lies, or I can simply come out with it.
“Fine,” I sigh in defeat, looking down before seeking out his eyes again, “do you really want to know?”
I realize that I really, really shouldn’t be putting us on the spotlight like that because honestly, nothing good can come out of this conversation, but ever since everyone filled my heads with all these crazy ideas of Noah and me and everything in between, I can’t be myself around him. I don’t even know how to begin to act around him if they were true.
I need him to prove them all wrong and give me the peace of mind I so desperately yearn for.
“I do,” Noah says, raising his eyebrows expectantly, urging me to go on and spill it out, “I asked, didn’t I?”
“Really?” I repeat, making sure this is really it, the moment I’ve been waiting for.
“Yes, really,” Noah drawls, rolling his eyes at me, but I don’t scold him for that.
“Do you love me?” I blurt out before I get the chance to curb my tongue. I mentally kick myself in the butt for letting my big mouth ruin things again. My eyes go wide and my heart stops beating before it picks up again.
“What kind of question is that?” Noah asks, lifting his shoulders and sending me a questioning look, as if he’s silently debating whether I’ve lost my mind. “Of course I love you,” he chuckles, reaching out to hug me, “you’re one of my best friends,” he states, but I pull back and his smile fades away, realizing that something’s oh so wrong.
“That’s…,” I start, then pause to clear my throat and my head, “that’s not what I meant,” I tell him, meeting his confused gaze head-on. “Are you in love with me?” I clarify, holding my breath and gripping the edge of the counter.
A/N:
*gasp* Now what? :P Sorry for the mean cliff-hanger, darlings! I just couldn't resist. ;) Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for sticking around! It means a lot to me:) Love you all!