by T. Torrest
So, the weekend kind of got away from me.
But I just figure I can talk to Layla now that we’re both together here at school. I sit down next to her at the lunch table and say hi. Only, she’s so busy chatting up Cooper that she doesn’t hear me.
“Layla. Hellooo. What? You don’t even say hi?” I’m busting her chops a little, but she knows I’m only joking. It’s what we do.
But then I think maybe she gets it in her pretty head that I’m really taking a dig, because she kind of gives me the rolled eyes and barely says hi back.
Shit. She must be pissed about Saturday night. I know I was standing there wondering how I’d possibly be able to stop myself from jumping her the second I got inside her house, so I can’t say as I blame her. But it’s not like she knew that. Wait. Did she?
She’s completely giving me the cold shoulder, her full attentions lavished all over Cooper. She’s smiling and flirting at him, practically batting her damned eyelashes at her ex-boyfriend. And I know now that he is definitely her ex, at least according to Rymer. Has been for a long time, in fact.
Jesus. What the heck was I thinking, listening to Rymer? ‘Cause right now, she’s trying to make it very clear that she’s way more interested in Coop than she is in me. She’s like, fawning all over him. What the hell is she doing? Playing games with me? Trying to make me jealous right now?
Damn. It’s working.
I hear the guys start laughing at something funny Rymer says just as the bell rings, and find myself following Layla across the hall to her locker. I need answers.
I step in front of it, blocking her, and ask, “What the hell was that in there?”
“What the hell was what?” she asks back. She’s got these amazing brown eyes that look at me all wide-eyed and innocent, and normally, seeing her look at me like that just about kills me. But right now, I’m not buying it. I know something’s up. But I step aside so she can squat down and grab her books.
I find myself talking to the top of her head. “Come on Layla. You know what. Why are you treating me like I’m some piece of garbage all of a sudden?” She’s probably already written me off, thinking I’m like every other guy in this school, just trying to get in her pants. I am, of course, but honestly, that’s not all I’m in this for. I actually really like this girl. Enough that I actually stepped back for once and tried to take things slow with her. She had to know why I was there on Saturday, though. Had to know I was looking to step things up. Maybe she wasn’t ready for that. Maybe she’s not as into me as I thought. “Did I do something?”
She gives a huff and tries to play innocent. “Trip, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to get to class right now, okay?”
I’m thinking she’s trying to be polite or something. Like she doesn’t want to just say that she’s not into me. God. She won’t even look at me. Did I blow it? Did I read her wrong? It’s not like she’s some inexperienced girl, here. I mean, look at her. The girl is drop-dead gorgeous, so I know she’s had boyfriends and all. Maybe she just doesn’t want me to be one of them. And the strangest thing is, I’d almost be okay with that. If she just wants to stay friends, I could deal with it. It would suck, but I don’t want to lose us over this. We’re really good at being friends.
Like I said, I actually really like this girl.
She stands up to leave, but I can’t let her go like this. I just want to know if we’re okay. I just want to know that she doesn’t freaking hate me right now. But Jesus. She still won’t even look at me.
I slap a hand up on the wall to stop her from taking off, and have her backed up against her locker before I even realize what I’m doing. All I know is that I want to get to the bottom of this. Right here, right now. “Oh, really? You have no idea what I’m talking about? That’s just an ordinary day for you, then, huh. Hanging all over Coop Benedict, treating me like a disease… Obviously you’re pissed about something.”
I know now that she’s probably angry that I’d abused our friendship or something, trying to make a move on her when we’ve spent the past three months all platonic. But I thought hanging all over Coop was a little much and told her so.
I get distracted from her answer as I watch her lips try and deny it. There is no space between her body and mine, and I’m having a hard time trying to do anything other than stare at her mouth. Her eyes finally meet mine, and I think I’m gonna lose it, watching her look at me like this when I’ve got her body practically pinned to the wall. What would she do, I wonder, if I were to kiss her right now? Just slam her up against this locker and suck on that bottom lip of hers for the next hour or so?
Fuck. Now I’m getting a semi.
But Layla doesn’t look like she wants to kiss me. She looks like she wants to kill me. And seeing this look on her face makes me realize she’s done with me. Done playing with the new kid. The mystery’s worn off, and she’s already chewed me up, so now it’s time to spit me out and move on.
And that’s what I get for taking a shot at the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met in my life. Fucking maneater. I thought she was different.
Okay, Miss Popularity. I hope you and your dreamboat Coop will be perfectly happy together. Until then, “Fine. You want to play games, go right ahead. I don’t have time for this. You want to talk, you know how to find me.”
And then I storm off, for English class of all places, wondering how the hell I’m going to spend the next forty minutes sitting in the desk behind her without smelling her hair. I punch a locker in frustration and just vow not to breathe for the rest of the day.
This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters and places in this book are the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance or similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012
Cover Design: Dana Gollance
www.ateliergollance.com
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