by Judy Corry
Eliana: Totally, plus that guy is way dreamy. Blond hair. Captivating eyes. *Sigh*
Maybe she should look at her blond-haired, green-eyed best friend a little more closely if she had a thing for Rupert Penry-Jones. Jess could totally pass for a younger version of that guy.
I went into the kitchen to pop some popcorn. Macey and Jess were sitting at the table, playing a game of Boggle.
"Practicing up so you can finally beat Eliana?" I asked Jess as I walked by.
He shrugged and scribbled down a word. "Maybe."
While waiting for the popcorn to stop popping, I pulled out my phone to check my text messages. A thrill of excitement went through me at the thought of British Boy messaging me again until I realized we didn't send texts. Just messages through the awesomemail app.
I opened the texts anyway—there was one from Noah and another from Luke. I ignored Noah’s.
Luke: I'm so bored that I actually want to work on our dance today. Did you finish choreographing it?
I checked the timestamp. It was sent over three hours ago. I felt bad that I'd missed it. Hopefully he hadn't been lonely and sad all day.
I quickly texted him back.
Me: Just got your message. Was in the zone choreographing our dance earlier. Just about to watch a movie, if you want something to do that doesn't involve dancing. I'll warn you though, it's a chick flick.
His text came back less than a minute later.
Luke: Chick flicks are better than my empty house. Just got back from a run. Be right over after I shower.
I smiled, happy that I'd done something nice for him.
The popcorn was finally done, so I mixed it with melted butter and my favorite seasoning. While I waited for Luke to arrive, I opened the text from Noah, hoping it wasn't another insult.
Noah: Sorry I was rude yesterday. I didn't mean what I said about you letting yourself go. You caught me at a bad time. My stepdad was on one yesterday and I took it out on you.
I sighed. I didn't want to feel bad for Noah. It was the same as it had been when we'd been dating. His stepdad would do something, and then Noah would take it out on me. The cycle needed to end somewhere.
Me: Sorry about your stepdad. But that doesn't mean you can be a jerk to everyone else.
Noah: I know.
The doorbell rang, so I left our conversation there. Noah would need to figure things out on his own this time around. But it was nice that he apologized. That was something new.
When I opened the door, Luke was standing on the doorstep, wearing a green button-up shirt with dark blue jeans. I didn't know if it was the sunlight streaming behind him or what, but he looked really good today. He was always handsome, but somehow, he looked even better than usual.
Was it a bad sign that I liked British Boy but also thought Luke was cute?
I blinked my eyes, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. Luke and I were just friends. Just like British Boy and his good friend, who happened to be a girl.
"Come on in, Luke. The theater room is back here." I smiled to cover my awkwardness.
He stepped inside and looked around the house as we walked down the entryway and past the kitchen.
I opened the door to the theater room and flipped on the light. I gestured to the various recliners and couches. "You can pick a seat wherever."
"And what chick flick are we watching today?" Luke asked as he settled down onto a reclining loveseat in the middle of the room.
I gave him a half-smile. He was going to hate this. "I talked to Eliana earlier, and she suggested the perfect movie for the mood I've been in lately."
"And what is that?" He set his arm along the back of the couch, curiosity on his face.
"It's one of those old BBC movies. I've been going through this British kick. There's just something about the regency time and the accents that gets me every time."
An uncomfortable look crossed his face but it was gone an instant later. "My mom loved watching those movies when she was sick. Will you think I'm less manly if I admit that I’ve watched pretty much every one of those?"
"Not that much less manly." I grinned at him as I pulled out the DVD case from the shelf. When he made a face, I said, "I'm kidding. That's actually really cool. I mean, obviously I like them as well."
"Yeah?"
"Don't they say real men wear pink? It's kind of like that." Plus, Luke definitely looked manly with those broad linebacker shoulders of his.
He laughed. "Just don't tell my buddies, okay?"
I put the DVD into the player, grabbed the remote, and sat beside Luke on the loveseat.
"Speaking of British stuff, is there a new guy from England on the football team? I’d heard something about that."
He looked startled for a second, but his expression smoothed over a moment later. "No. I don't know of any English guys on the football team."
Dang it. I guess British Boy wasn't on the football team after all. Maybe that guy at the game wasn't his dad like I'd assumed.
The movie started, and I realized the room was still bright.
"Sorry, I forgot to turn off the lights." I scooted forward in the seat to stand.
Luke reached over and grabbed my arm as if to stop me. "No, that's okay."
"Are you afraid I'm gonna try to put the moves on you? Because you're safe with me, Luke. I know we're just friends."
He furrowed his brow. "No, it's just that I, um, have a hard time watching movies in the dark since my mom died. It's mostly what we did the last days before she passed away and it takes me right back there." His face was so open and vulnerable. He looked younger somehow.
My heart broke for him. How had he gone through something like that? It wasn't fair. His mom had died before his senior year of high school. It wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be sitting on the bleachers, cheering him on as he made a touchdown. Not watching him from heaven. It almost made me want to cry.
"We can do something else if a movie is too hard," I said in a soft voice.
He shook his head. "I have to start watching movies again sometime. I'd rather try it with you than when I'm alone."
I watched his face carefully to see if he really meant it. He looked like he did, so I said, "Okay, but we'll leave the lights on."
He smiled gratefully, his brown eyes holding mine. "Thanks."
I scooted closer to him, hoping it would be more comforting than awkward for him to have me be so close. He stiffened for a second, as if caught off guard by the gesture, but then he slid his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. I had planned on it being a quick hug, but when he seemed to relax and breathe deeply, I decided to stay. Hugs had always been healing for me in the past, so maybe I could try to help him heal from his heartache.
I never would have believed it a week ago that I'd be cuddling with Luke Davenport while watching a romantic movie. Never in a million years. But it was kind of nice. He felt nice. Right somehow. I wondered if it would feel this good to cuddle with British Boy.
When Captain Wentworth appeared on the screen, looking gorgeous in his old-fashioned clothing, I imagined British Boy walking toward me when we finally met out of the dark. He'd stride into the room, wearing a nice tailored suit, perhaps with a cravat tied around his neck. He'd offer me his arm, and we'd go on a long walk in the countryside. Then when it was time for me to go home, he'd helped me into his carriage, and the simple touch of his hand would send waves of electricity through my whole body. He'd say goodbye in his dreamy, accented voice, and then I'd swoon while gazing into his brilliant brown eyes.
An image of Luke wearing a cravat popped into my mind. I shook the thought away. Luke was not British Boy. And it was not the early 1800's. British Boy probably had a car and regular clothes—though they were probably made from the finest material.
I sighed and focused back on the movie. I wished they still made love stories like they used to. This movie was so good.
"How are you liking it?" I asked Luke a while later.
"Thinking about your mom?" I hugged his torso tighter for a second.
He nodded and wiped at his eye. "Yeah. It's just hard knowing I won't see her again."
"Let me turn off the movie. This was a bad idea." I moved to push myself away from him so I could stand, but his arms tightened around me.
"No. I need to do this, even if I look like a big baby."
I shook my head and wiped the tear from beneath his eye. "You don't look like a baby, Luke."
"I sure feel like one. This is humiliating."
I sat up and took his face in my hands so he had to look at me. "Your mom died. That's not something you just get over. If you weren't sad, I'd wonder what was wrong with you."
He stared back at me with his beautiful eyes and slowly nodded. "Okay, but I still feel stupid. This is exactly why I never talk about my mom with anyone."
"Don't feel stupid." I touched his shoulder. "I like it when a guy isn't scared to show his real feelings. It's refreshing." On impulse, I leaned closer and kissed his cheek. His skin was soft and smooth under my lips. It felt nice.
I pulled away slowly, shocked that I'd done that. When our eyes met, there was surprise in his, but there was something else there too.
Before I knew it, Luke had slipped his hand to the nape of my neck and was pulling my face closer.
My heart hammered in my chest. He was going to kiss me!
But at the last second, I turned my head away, and his warm lips brushed against my cheek instead.
"Sorry, Luke," I said, pulling away. "I can't kiss you."
His eyes were wide with disbelief. He shook his head, as if trying to orient himself. "Did I read everything wrong? I thought…"
Oh man, I had given him all the wrong signals. I'd cuddled with him, kissed him on the cheek, had him watch a romantic movie. Of course he'd interpret those things into me having feelings for him.
"We're just friends. I'm sorry if I made things confusing, but I like someone else."
His brow furrowed. "Your pen pal?"
I bit my lip and nodded, feeling horrible after everything he'd told me today. He'd opened up about his difficulties getting over his mom, and I was here pretty much giving him a slap on the face.
But I didn't like Luke that way. British Boy was the guy who occupied my thoughts when my head rested on my pillow at night.
It probably sounded ridiculous that I was falling for someone I'd never even seen. But I had fallen for British Boy. I needed to see things through with him. Yes, Luke was really cute and surprisingly sweet, but we were just supposed to be friends.
"I really like him. I can't kiss you and message him at the same time. That wouldn't be right."
He took my hand in his. "But you shouldn't worry about that, Ashlyn. I don't know how to say this, but I'm—"
He stopped when his eyes caught on something behind me. I turned my head and found my sister standing in the doorway.
"Can I watch the movie with you guys?"
Thank you, Macey, for saving me from this super awkward conversation.
"Sure, join the party." I waved her in.
Hopefully, Luke and I could forget about what had just happened and never talk about it again. It was only because he was emotional that he’d tried to kiss me. When we were both thinking straight, and I'd had a chance to talk to British Boy again, our new friendship could go back to normal. There shouldn't be a reason for us to get all awkward around each other. I hoped.
Though I'd be totally lying if I didn't admit that a small part of me wished I hadn't turned my head.
But I'd ignore that part for now. It was just a tiny part, anyway.
18
Luke
Why did her sister have to come in at the exact moment I finally gained the courage to tell Ashlyn the truth? Instead of getting to explain myself, I had to sit through the rest of the movie looking like a rejected fool who had gotten her cheek.
Her cheek!
Who does that?
Apparently, me—a guy who couldn’t differentiate a pity cuddle from a real one.
But maybe it was a good thing that I hadn't been able to tell her I was British Boy. Knowing Ashlyn, she would have slapped me instead of telling me to forget the awkward cheek kiss and give it another try.
But I knew I needed to figure out how to get British Boy out of the picture. Just having Ashlyn nestled under my arm for most of the movie had been amazing. I really wanted to do it again, soon. I just needed to figure out a way to tell Ashlyn the truth.
We finished the movie around seven. I went home right after having another totally awkward conversation about how she knew I was emotional and that I wouldn't have tried to kiss her if I'd been myself.
Feeling about as humiliated as I could get, I decided not to correct her and just let her think she was right. Someday I'd figure out how to tell her everything.
When I got home, I was surprised to see my dad standing in the kitchen with a tall red-headed woman I didn't recognize.
"Hey, Luke," my dad said when he noticed me. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted to introduce you to Amy."
The woman, whose back had been turned to me, swiveled around and looked at me with a nervous smile. I didn't like that smile. It told me I wasn't going to like the reason why we were being introduced.
My dad gestured to the bags of food on the counter. "We grabbed some dinner from Alessandro's on our way here. Let's have a seat and talk."
My dad wanted to sit and have a talk with me? He’d barely even seen me over the last two months, and now he wanted to talk with an audience? But the food did smell delicious, so I grabbed one of the to-go boxes off the counter and sat at the dining room table. My dad and the woman had a whispered conversation before joining me. I took a bite of the pasta on my plate. Alessandro's had the best food. I didn't even know what this was called, but it was good.
Dad cleared his throat. I wanted to ignore him and whatever he had to say, but when he cleared his throat again, I looked up.
"I guess I should probably start by telling you who Amy is." My dad fidgeted with the fork in his hand. "She's been working at my office for a while. And I wanted to introduce you to her."
Amy from dad's office. My stomach shriveled up. She probably wasn't just a friendly coworker.
"Hi, Amy." I shoveled a forkful of pasta in my mouth so I wouldn't have to say anything else.
"Your dad has told me so much about you, Luke."
I swallowed down some water before saying, "That's funny, he never said anything about you." I glared at my dad. I knew what was coming.
"Amy and I have something to tell you."
This better not be some twisted way of telling me I had a new mom or something.
"We have started dating." He said the words slowly as if expecting for me to explode. He might as well have kicked me in the chest.
"Dating?" What did that even mean?
"You see, Amy and your mom were really good friends before she passed. So after she died, Amy was there for me, to talk about your mom and share the memories I had. And soon we were sharing even more."
My chair screeched along the tile floor as I scooted away from the table. I couldn't sit and listen to this. My dad was telling me that he’d betrayed my mom on her deathbed. How long had this Amy really even known my mom? Had she just seen my mom's death as a ticket into my dad's life and money?
My heart started beating fast and my head started pounding. It felt like my chest was being stepped on, I could barely draw in a shallow breath.
It was happening again. Another panic attack. I had to get out of here.
I was out the door and running before my dad could say anything else.
And I kept on running and running and running.
I ended up at the park just down the street from Ashlyn'
s house. I hadn't gone in that direction on purpose. It seemed my subconscious thought she was my safe place. But there was no way I could let her see me like this after she'd turned away from my attempted kiss earlier.
But I wished I dared knock on her door and talk to her right now. She always knew how to make me feel better even after I'd turned into a crybaby this afternoon.
I did a few pull-ups on a bar and had a stroke of genius.
I couldn't have Ashlyn knowing that I was turning into some crazy guy, but maybe British Boy could. I needed her to stop liking him anyway, so if she thought he was messed up in the brain, maybe she'd want to forget all about him and finally be able to see me as more than the immature prankster she’d initially known. British Boy wouldn't look quite so charming if she knew he was mentally unstable.
I pulled out my phone and messaged Mystery Girl.
BritishBoy: Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?
MysteryGirl: Sometimes. Why?
BritishBoy: I feel like I'm going crazy a lot. I just found out that my dad has a new girlfriend.
MysteryGirl: And I'm guessing that's not a good thing?
Of course it wasn't a good thing. But she had no idea that British Boy's mom had just died. Or Mum, I guess, since that's what they called their mothers in England.
BritishBoy: Not a good thing, even if my mum isn't in the picture anymore.
I couldn't say that she had died or that would totally give everything away. Hopefully she'd assume they were divorced or separated or something instead.
MysteryGirl: Sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?
BritishBoy: It's just kind of like a kick in the face that my dad would come home with a new lady so soon. Like, doesn't he miss her at all?
MysteryGirl: Dads are dumb sometimes. And I'm sorry you don't like his girlfriend.
Yeah, I didn't really know her of course, since I'd run out the door almost as soon as we were introduced. But she wasn't my mom.
She'd never be my mom.
MysteryGirl: Do you think we should meet in the Chem lab? I'd love to talk to you in person about something.