“I’ll have you know that I did keep my end of the deal. He and I agreed today to start over and that we can be friends.”
“Why am I just hearing about this now?” she asks, and I can totally picture her scowling. “And why didn’t he eat lunch with us?”
“I’m not keeping tabs on the guy, Lora,” I say, stopping in front of my window, “and I didn’t tell you sooner because it’s not a big deal.”
I start to close the curtains, then pause when I see Brayden walking by outside…completely shirtless. What the—
“Megan? Meg? You still there?”
“Yeah,” I manage to reply, my eyes glued to him and his toned upper half until he disappears out of sight. “I’m here.”
Why on earth is he just hanging around outside WITHOUT A SHIRT ON?
“Because I don’t feel like wearing one.”
Right, that was his lame excuse for being half-naked when I brought over Mom’s blueberry bread. Brayden does whatever he wants. He always has. And I’m sure he always will.
“You keep zoning out on me,” Lora singsongs, clearly annoyed. “Should I assume you’re thinking about a certain next-door neighbor?”
“Can we please just change the subject?” I ask, closing my curtains. “I feel like Brayden is all we ever talk about, and that is far from being okay.”
“You’re being dramatic,” she informs me in a dry tone, “I should probably hang up though. Mom wants all my homework done before we go visit Grams, and I’ve barely finished it.”
See? Procrastinating.
“All right, well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Give your grandma a hug from me.”
“I will. Byeeee.” And then she ends the call.
I toss my phone onto my bed before slowly peeking out the curtains.
Nothing.
Not that I was expecting him to walk by again—because I totally wasn’t.
I jump at the sound of knocking on my door, and then take a step or two away from the window. Why is my heart beating so fast? It’s not like I was doing anything wrong.
“It’s me!” Hailee exclaims, as she throws open the door and walks in. “And I have some SERIOUS news!”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t say you could come in.”
Actually, I didn’t say anything at all.
“I knocked,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me, “you could be a little grateful, Meg. Now, do you want to hear the news or not?”
“I’d rather—”
“We’re having dinner with the Knights tomorrow!” she cuts me off, literally bouncing in place. “Brayden’s mom invited us over...I just heard Mom talking about it on the phone!”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Isn’t this great?’ Hailee asks with wide eyes. “We have to figure out what you’re going to wear!”
I watch in disbelief as she starts to raid my closet. “Are you serious right now?”
“There has to be something decent in here,” she huffs, sifting through my clothes. “Do you know Brayden’s favorite color? Never mind, that would be too obvious.”
No way am I letting this happen.
“Mom!” I yell, leaving my room to go downstairs. “Mother, we need to talk!”
I almost trip over one of Kyle’s toys, causing me to kick it aside with a frustrated curse, and then I storm into the kitchen.
“I’m guessing Hailee told you?” Mom asks, a slight smile on her face as she sprinkles shredded cheese over the casserole that’s in front of her.
“Mom,” I whine, leaning against the opposite side of the counter, “this isn’t funny! We can’t eat dinner at their house!”
Her smile only grows. “And why’s that?”
“Because you and Hailee think that I still like him!” I hiss as she uses her oven mitts to put the casserole into the oven. “And I’ve already told you guys that I don’t!”
“Well,” she drawls, closing the oven door, “insisting that we can’t go over to their house only makes you look guiltier of still liking him.”
I scowl at that. “But, Mom—”
“We’re going either way, Megan,” she interrupts, putting the leftover cheese back into the fridge, “so why not try to have a positive attitude about it?”
I’m positive that it’s a terrible idea…
“And, honey,” she says, resting her hip against the counter, “I know you claim that you’re over Brayden…but it is nice that your sister is focusing on something other than having a boyfriend or that ridiculous show.’
I blink at her. “That’s just messed up, Mom.”
“It’s the truth,” she defends herself with a shrug. “If she starts getting out of hand about it though, I’ll have a talk with her.”
“She’s going through my closet!” I exclaim, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder. “I’d say that her trying to choose what I wear for tomorrow is out of hand, Mom.”
“Well, I—”
“When’s dinner gonna be done?” Kyle moans, cutting Mom short as he comes into the kitchen. “I’m so hungry!”
“Ky-Ky, we talked about this earlier,” Mom says, raising an eyebrow at him, “remember?”
Kyle throws his head back, a clear sign he’s about to have a total whine-fest, and I take that as my cue to go.
Mom was probably going to just defend Hailee anyway…
I walk back into my room, and scowl at the sight of Hailee laying out several different tops on my bed. “Hailee, listen—”
“These are the only ones I’d recommend,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone, gesturing to the tops, “and if you wear any kind of bottoms besides a good pair of jeggings—you’d be making a mistake. Your shoes are a mess, so I didn’t bother, but you shouldn’t wear anything open-toed unless you decide on the light-blue top. Okay?”
My shoes are not that much of a mess.
“You’re welcome,” she says, walking past me, “now if you’ll excuse me…I have a livestream to watch. Let me know when you’re ready for makeup tips though, because I have lots that I think you could benefit from.”
Well, okay then. That was a little offensive. However, I take a closer look at the tops she chose, and then find myself nodding in approval. They’re actually not half-bad.
Dang, is that annoying.
Chapter 14: You’re The Problem
This might sound crazy, but I think Brayden is avoiding me. Why do I think that? Well, when he came into Mrs. Flint’s class, he sat in the farthest chair away from mine. Like, he actually had someone switch seats with him.
He was one of the first to leave when the bell rang, and he was long gone once I made it into the hallway. Then he did the same thing in our other shared class. And forget about lunch; like yesterday, I’m convinced he never even came into the cafeteria.
So, what’s up with that? I don’t know, but he hasn’t stuck around long enough for me to ask him. Who cares though? Definitely not me. Why should I? It’s not like I want him hanging around me anyway…
“Still stressing about him?”
I roll my eyes at Lora, who’s now standing beside me. “I am not—and have not been—stressing about him.”
“Megan.” She gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve been turning your head so much today that I was worried you were going to get whiplash. Don’t bother trying to deny it.”
“It’s just weird,” I huff, placing my hands on my hips. “He’s been driving me crazy every chance he gets, and suddenly he’s not? Why?”
She raises an eyebrow before nodding past me. “Well, there he is now…why don’t you ask him?”
Because that means I’d have to talk to him, and I’d rather get my answers some other way. Plus, there’s the fact that he’s walking right behind me without even saying a word.
“There’s my dad,” Lora says, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder. “Seriously, Meg…go talk to him. Otherwise dinner at his place is going to be even more awkward.” She proceeds to swat my arm. “And I want all the details
, okay?”
“You’re annoying,” I inform her as she walks to her dad’s car, “you know that…right?”
“Love you too!” she hollers with a careless wave.
If only Mom was here already, then I would have a legit excuse for why I shouldn’t—and can’t—talk to him. However, it would seem like I have nothing but time, and Lora giving me death glares from inside the car is a pretty good motivator.
I mock-salute her as they drive by, and then turn on my heel so I can go after Brayden. Even. Though. I. Don’t. Want. To.
By the time I catch up to him, he’s already more than halfway to his car, and I almost turn around to head back the way I came. But I’ll never hear the end of it from Lora, and my curiosity gets the best of me.
“Hey, Brayden,” I say, hoping I sound somewhat casual.
His sauntering comes to a stop, and a few moments (that feel like an eternity) go by before he finally turns around. “Ya know, following after me into the parking lot is kind of stalker-ish.”
He’s not wrong.
Darn Lora and her awful advice…
“You know what?” I ask before he can say anything else. “Never mind. Just forget it.”
“Megan,” he drawls as I turn to leave, “it’s fine. What’s up?”
Suddenly, calling him out for avoiding me seems kind of pathetic…not to mention desperate. So, I decide to deal with this in a more low-key way.
“I didn’t end up seeing you at lunch yesterday,” I tell him with a shrug, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The corner of his mouth goes up. “You worried about me, Meg?”
Oh, great.
“No, no I wouldn’t say that,” I reply, mentally cringing, “I was just…curious, I guess.”
Perfect. I sound pathetic anyway.
“I didn’t mean to bail yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “it just kind of happened.”
A lame excuse—how comforting.
“Yeah, I totally get that,” I lie, seriously regretting coming over here. “No big deal.” I take a step back. “Well, I should go, my mom’s going to be here soon.”
And I might suddenly come down with a cold or something, so I don’t have to embarrass myself tonight as well.
Once again, I turn to leave, and once again he stops me.
“Wait a sec, Meg.”
“What?” I ask, looking at him expectantly.
He then shakes his head, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Nothing. I’ll see you later.”
As he resumes walking to his car, my eyes betray me by checking out—ahem—the view.
Ugh, and that conversation did not go like I thought it would. He didn’t even have an actual reason! But you know what? I have a pretty good idea of what he was doing yesterday during lunch…and today, for that matter. He was probably with some girl. Yeah, it makes sense.
Maybe Beth made her move already, and that’s who he was with.
“So stupid,” I mutter under my breath, starting to walk in the other direction, “it doesn’t matter what he was going. Or who he was with.”
All of this feels way too similar to middle school, and I hate it.
Soon Mom is pulling up to the curb, and I roll my eyes when I see Hailee sitting in the passenger seat. Great, I’m stuck sitting with him.
“HEY, MEGANNNNN!” Kyle greets me as I get into the car.
“Stop yelling!” Hailee snaps at him. “You’re being obnoxious, and I can’t hear my video!”
Kyle proceeds to mock her, which starts a whole fight between them, and Mom goes into full lecture-mode.
Meanwhile, I close the door and put my seatbelt on; like the sane, unproblematic child that I am.
“You both need to just calm down, okay?” Mom says, her eyebrows doing most of the talking. “Otherwise losing privileges over the weekend can—and will—be arranged.”
Kyle flat-out gasps with wide eyes, then immediately shuts his mouth. “I’m gonna play the quiet game!”
Hailee scoffs. “Well, you just lost then.”
He starts to say something else but decides to shake his head instead before looking out his window. Fingers crossed that the silence will last.
My phone buzzes, and I check to see that I have a text from Lora.
Did you talk to him?
Me: Yeah. He said that he didn’t mean to bail yesterday at lunch, but it just kind of “happened.”
I send an eye-roll emoji to express my frustration, and she sends one back.
Lora: Lame. What was his excuse for avoiding you today??
Me: I didn’t bring it up, but I’m convinced that he’s keeping himself occupied with one of his admirers. Or more than one.
Me: I don’t want to waste time thinking about it. What Brayden does has nothing to with me.
Lora: Okay, I gotcha.
Lora: Hey, keep me posted about the dinner tonight.
I send her a thumbs-up, but I’m inwardly cringing. After my conversation—or lack of conversation—with Brayden, I’m dreading this stupid dinner thing even more now.
Surprisingly enough, Kyle manages to stay quiet the whole drive home, and Hailee’s only commentary is a brief remark to her phone.
At least something good has come out of today.
“Remember that the Knights are expecting us at six thirty,” Mom says once we’re all inside the house, “and I don’t want to be late—so everyone needs to be ready by six fifteen.”
Even though it’s only going to take us a couple of minutes to walk next door…
“Did you decide what you’re going to wear?” Hailee asks, looking at me expectantly. “Because I can’t help you with your makeup until I know what you’re wearing.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her with a forced smile, “I’m sure you’re busy with…other stuff. I’ll just figure something out.”
I go into the kitchen to wash my hands, silently hoping that she’ll let the whole thing go, but then I hear her following behind me. Dang it.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Meg,” she says with a laugh, “I have time to lend my expertise.”
I can’t even with her right now.
“I’m not really worried about my makeup,” I tell her, drying my hands with one of the kitchen towels, “and if I decide to wear any…I’ll probably just put some eyeliner on.”
“Fine,” she huffs, tossing her hands up, “but don’t come begging afterward at my door, because it’ll be too late.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and then strides out of the kitchen.
Pretending to be sick is sounding better and better…
——————
Mom saw right through my “I-don’t-feel-so-great” fib and reiterated that I was acting guilty of still liking Brayden. So, here I am, standing on the Knights’ front porch with my wonderful family. Because I, Megan Justine Taylor, DO NOT like him. I have totally indifferent feelings for Brayden.
“Ky-Ky, be careful with the platter,” Mom tells Kyle with a tight smile. “Just hold it the way I showed you…okay?”
Mom made Samoa bars for dessert, and once they were all placed on her blue and white-checkered melamine platter, Kyle begged to carry them over here. I’m surprised he didn’t trip and drop them everywhere already.
“I am,” he mutters, shifting impatiently. “Why is it taking them so long to answer the door?”
Probably because we’re fifteen minutes early, and they don’t want us in their house yet.
I don’t blame them.
Mom shushes him before fixing his hair for the umpteenth time.
A few moments later, the front door is opened by Brayden’s dad and he greets us with a friendly smile. My focus isn’t on him though—it’s on Brayden, who’s coming down their stairs while tugging a gray shirt over his ridiculous abs.
Ridiculous, as in a totally negative way. Because there isn’t a single, positive thing about those abs.
I find myself inhaling deeply, but thankful
ly everyone’s too busy walking into the house to notice. Just because he’s attractive, doesn’t mean that I still like him.
Mr. Knight closes the door once we’re all inside, and I try my best to be unaffected when Brayden is suddenly standing next to me.
“Hey,” he drawls as everyone else chitchats.
I can’t stop myself from swallowing. “Hi.”
He’s so close. Why is he so close? And why won’t I just step away from him?
“You look nice.”
What the—
I try to ignore the flash of heat creeping up my neck as I think of what to say. It was a compliment. Right? I mean, he didn’t sound sarcastic. And there’s nothing wrong with him complimenting me, but to say that I’m surprised would be an understatement.
“Megan!” Kyle exclaims, tugging on the hem of my top. “Come on already, I’m hungry!”
Oh good, the perfect escape from this awkward situation.
I start to follow him, and everyone else to the dining room, but then Brayden grasps my arm.
“Meg.”
Hellooooooo, tingles.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he tells me before I can say anything, “it doesn’t have to be right now but—”
“Sure thing,” I interrupt, not liking the sound of this at all, “we can talk later.”
Ha, yeah…I don’t think so. Because that would be a TERRIBLE idea.
I slip out of his hold and try to be discreet as I fast-walk to the dining room. I don’t know what he wants to talk about, and I don’t care. I just need to make sure that there is some serious distance between us.
So, you can imagine my frustration when we “somehow” end up sitting next to each other again. Hailee literally chose to sit beside Kyle, just so I’d be stuck sitting beside Brayden. She is unbelievable. I scoot myself in, mentally cursing with each skid, and I send a discreet glare to Hailee. Being who she is, she responds with a wink that you could see from outer space. Oh, just wait until we get home though…she won’t be winking then.
Brayden’s mom describes everything that she and Mr. Knight made (because he cooks, unlike Dad), but I only catch the phrase: “lemon parmesan.”
My Dilemma Page 10