by Rhonda Helms
“I think you should go,” Ashley said, quiet but resolute. “This isn’t up for discussion. I’m going with David to prom.”
“You’ve just committed social suicide.” Karen stood and tossed her head back. Looked down her nose at all of us. “Have fun.” She strolled back to her table.
“Well, that was straight out of an eighties movie,” Camilla said.
Ashley gave a nervous titter. She peeked at the cafeteria line, then back at us. “I’m sorry about that. She can be a real jerk sometimes.” She gnawed on her thumbnail.
“It’s not your fault,” I said quietly. “And it’s fine. I promise. She’s just feeling embarrassed because you showed her up by being such a good person. You made her look even douchier than she already did.”
“Shit.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean to do that. I just . . .”
“You just what?” David slid into the seat beside her, holding a tray bearing two slices of cake. He handed her one. “What did I miss?”
She waved her hand and offered David a broad smile. “Oh. It was nothing. This cake looks delicious. Thanks.”
Ashley and David spent the rest of the lunch period in shy conversation. It was so cute I almost couldn’t stand it. The furtive glances, the awkward smiles, the flushed faces. How had I missed before that Ashley had a crush on David? I was usually pretty good at spotting these things.
Then again, I’d been totally blindsided by Ethan’s crush on Noah, so there was that.
The bell rang. We dumped our trash. I gave Camilla a hug and whispered in her ear to text me when she got a chance, then headed out of the caf into the hallway. A hand on my upper arm stopped me in place.
“Hey.” Ethan huffed a few breaths and leaned over, looking winded. “Shit. I missed lunch. Needed to talk.”
I laughed. “Take a moment and catch your breath, dude.”
He chuckled and stood, drew in a few deep lungfuls of air. “Okay. Sorry. I ran all the way here from the other side of the school.”
To find me? I wanted to be flattered, but I had a hunch it wasn’t really about me. It was about the guy not twenty feet in front of us, going up to his locker to flick the lock. Beautiful, stunning, funny, smart, fill-in-your-own-gushy-adjective Noah.
I gave him a polite smile and tamped down my disappointment. “What’s up?”
“When can we start brainstorming for real? I need to get on it. Are you free this week?”
Bingo. I called it. I should go into gambling. Or open a psychic hotline. I grabbed my phone and peeked at the calendar. “I’m free Wednesday after school.”
“Perfect.” Ethan gave a crooked smile, and the sight of that damned dimple made my heart skip a beat. Why did he have to be so . . . everything to me? How was I going to learn how to stop loving this guy? About as easy as asking me to rip my heart out of my chest and still keep on living.
Ethan finally spotted Noah, and I saw minuscule changes in his body language—the way his eyes widened, how he sucked in his breath and clenched his fists at his sides. Did his nervous stomach flutter mirror my own?
“I want to talk to him,” Ethan whispered to me, “but I don’t know what to say. I’d like to break the ice before I just outright ask him to prom.” He turned desperate, wide eyes my way. “Help, please.”
My heart gave a sick thud. I kept my smile glued in place so as not to give away my feelings. “You guys have a class together, right? Why not ask him if you can borrow his notes? Something casual that gives you a chance to see him again and discuss what he wrote.”
“That’s brilliant.” He reached up and squeezed my arm. His eyes were rich and warm with affection. “Thank you. Wish me luck!” With that, he strolled over to Noah, who looked at him with a smile when Ethan began talking.
Noah nodded, smiled bigger, and dug into his locker.
I couldn’t stand here and watch this. I turned and headed to my next class. One foot in front of the other. Not paying much attention to people shoving and jostling around me. I’d known it would be like this. But that didn’t mean I needed to torture myself by watching.
I made a decision—yes, I’d help Ethan. But I wasn’t going to watch the promposal; nor was I going to be his in-person romance coach. If I didn’t have to see them together, it would be easier to treat this as a scientific project, a study. Something that didn’t personally impact me.
I needed to remove my emotions from the equation. And to do that, I had to stop thinking of Noah and Ethan as real people.
But that didn’t mean I liked it. In fact, I kind of wanted to punch myself in the face. Frustration simmered just beneath my skin. I needed to shake this off.
I dug my phone out, forced myself to make a wacky face, took a pic, and sent it to Camilla. I’d just fake it until I felt better.
Until the mental image of Ethan and Noah standing together didn’t splinter my stupid heart into pieces.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Camilla
I rubbed the tight spot on the back of my neck and peered down at my notes. Mrs. Brandwright talked about something, but I didn’t pay much attention to what she was saying. I was too busy trying not to remember how Benjamin’s mouth had felt on mine, our bodies pressed together. Had it really been just yesterday?
I’d never been kissed like that before. Had never felt so overwhelmed and heady, like my skull was filled with helium. And I’d felt sexy, too. The way his eyes had flashed the moment before he’d taken my mouth . . . I smothered a groan and doodled on the corner of my notebook to distract myself.
To make matters even more awkward, Benjamin had barely said a word to me when he came into class. Had just dropped into his seat, gave me a courtesy nod, then opened a book in his lap and read.
Did he regret what had happened? Sure seemed that way, given his actions. Which only made me even more stressed about the whole thing.
Oh, well. I was totally done angsting over this. It was one kiss, that was all. Something impulsive and shocking and unlikely to ever happen again, so I needed to stop obsessing.
Mrs. Brandwright told us to get back into our groups and work on going over our notes so we could complete the group reporting session of our project. Carter hadn’t shown up to school today—I was not going to take the fall for his absence, so I would just note somewhere that he hadn’t bothered to participate in the group research portion.
Benjamin spun his desk around to face me. Finally looked me in the eyes. I couldn’t read the nuances of emotion in them, but I could tell he was feeling just as uncomfortable as I was.
I pushed down a swell of anxiety and put on my game face. Gave a big smile and said, “Ready to relive the fun of scaring innocent people?”
He chuckled, and the tension between us cracked away just a bit. “It was pretty epic.”
We spent a few minutes reviewing our notes in silence. The other groups around us hummed with light conversation. I heard Benjamin bark a laugh and looked up.
“Just saw my notes on when you tried to hold that old man’s hand and then he wouldn’t let yours go after you tried to walk away.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get my hand back.” That poor old guy had clung to me like I was a long-lost child or something. In a way, it made me sad that he was so starved for affection, he’d take it from a stranger. I made a mental note to try smiling more at old people.
Benjamin’s eyes twinkled. “Have to admit, it was a lot of fun watching you relax and get into the project. You seemed pretty nervous at first. Did you find it challenging to get past your fear?”
“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “I was brought up to be polite to strangers, to stay quiet and not disrupt others. Forcing myself into their presence in such strong ways was super hard.”
He nodded. “Same. But the fighting was the hardest part for me. I knew it was fake, but I still got caught up in it a couple of times.”
“Me too. I even found my body starting to do the fight-or-flight response.”
; Thinking of our fake fights made me think of . . . I saw his gaze drop down to my mouth for a split second. The pulse in my throat stuttered. I knew what he was thinking about right now, could tell by the way his pupils flared.
Sure didn’t look like regret in his eyes right now.
My lips parted on their own, and I swallowed. Drew in a steadying breath and tried to focus on something else. “Um. So, reading anything good?” I asked with a nod toward the thin paperback in his lap.
“The Outsiders,” he said as he held it up.
“Oh, cool. I read that one. ‘Stay gold, Ponyboy,’ ” I quipped.
He gave me a crooked smile, and my heart flipped in my chest. “This is one of my favorite books.”
“What makes you like reading so much?” I mean, I liked books too, but Benjamin seemed to devour them like they were oxygen.
He paused, lips pressed as he thought. “I enjoy diving into other worlds, I guess. I like experiencing life through someone else’s point of view. I like books that challenge me—banned books, edgy books, ones that make you stop and think.”
Funny how talking about books made him open up more. A smile crept along my face. “You make me want to run to the library right now.”
“Schoolwork is overrated.”
“I’ll say.”
There was another pause between us, but this one felt comfortable. Our shared smiles were easy and relaxed. Finally, Benjamin glanced down at his paper. Cleared his throat. “Well. Our conversations derail off-topic far too easily.”
“Guess we should stop being so engaging.” I grinned, and he did the same.
The bell rang.
“Okay, folks,” Mrs. Brandwright called out over the sound of people gathering their stuff to run out of class. “Make sure you guys find time outside of class to wrap up your discussions, please. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Neither Benjamin nor I moved. Just sat in place as the room emptied around us.
“We should finish this soon,” I said.
“Yes.”
“When are you free?” My heart began to beat hard against my rib cage.
“Tonight?”
“Sure. Yeah. Let’s do that. Then we can get it done.” Gah, I couldn’t stop my bobblehead nodding or verbal vomiting.
He gave me that sexy crooked grin as he stood, and my heart raced harder. “I’ll call you later to finalize details.”
We gathered our stuff and headed out of class. It felt like my body was homed to him; I was aware of how far behind me he stood, the soft rasps of his breath. My cheeks burned, and my hands trembled.
I practically ran to my locker, then flicked it open and stuck my head inside. Knock it off, I ordered myself. Stop being such a doofus around him. I dragged in a few slow breaths, then withdrew my head and gathered my stuff.
Now to go home, finish my homework, and find the perfect casual outfit that screams “sexy” but doesn’t try too hard. Yeah, no biggie.
“What toppings do you like?” I asked Benjamin.
He shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
The crown of his dark blond hair glowed in the soft light of the pizza place where we sat, notebooks spread across the table. We’d decided to snag a bite to eat and finish our group reporting at the same time. I knew it wasn’t a date—of course not. It was basically an extension of our classroom.
But it sure seemed like a date on the outside. From the intimate glow of the small pendant light above us, to being seated at the quiet table back in the corner, to the way both of us had changed from our school outfits into something fresh. This didn’t look like just another school project.
Neither of us had thought to ask Carter if he wanted to meet either. Of course, after griping about him so much, I felt bad that maybe he was sick, which would explain his absence. Still, he needed to work that out with Mrs. Brandwright; we couldn’t put everything on hold, wondering where he was.
I nibbled on my thumbnail. Stared at the extensive menu. “Do you like traditional pizza more, or are you open to trying something else? This barbeque chicken pizza sounds really good.”
“Let’s do that.” He closed his menu, waved at the nearby waitress, and placed our order. Then he turned his attention back to our notes. “Okay, so we have our results broken down by age and gender now. Is there anything else we’re forgetting?”
I flipped through my pages. “I don’t think so.”
“Then let’s go ahead and start drafting the group portion of the report.”
For the next twenty minutes, we spent a lot of back-and-forth time refining our introductory paragraphs. I wrote hasty notes down as we haggled about word choice here and there. Still, it went rather smoothly.
The pizza arrived on a large round silver tray. I shoved my notes to the side and pressed a hand to my stomach. “I’m starving.”
It tasted even better than I’d thought it would, which made it really hard to take my time and eat slowly, like a lady, instead of inhaling three slices and freaking him out with my appetite. Joshua called me a vacuum. He was just jealous of my metabolism.
We ate and talked more, both of us focused on getting the paragraphs written. I rubbed my fingers on my napkin when I saw a couple of small grease stains on the paper. “Don’t worry,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll have clean hands when I type and print this out for us.” We’d decided I’d type the intro and he’d make the corresponding charts.
“Not worried at all,” he replied smoothly.
When the last sentence was done, I dropped my pencil and held my hands over my head. “Victory!” Done on time. Pretty good for me. I gave myself a congratulatory pat on the back, then grabbed another slice.
I heard a soft giggle a couple of tables away and saw a teen couple leaning toward each other, hands held over the table. The guy lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, and her cheeks got a pretty pink flush.
Benjamin glanced over at them, and his face flashed an emotion I couldn’t place. “Monday isn’t a typical date night,” he finally said.
I gave a nervous laugh. “No, I suppose not.”
He sipped his water. “What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”
I bit my lip and pondered the question. I hadn’t been on a lot of dates, to be honest. But I didn’t want to look lame, so I dug through my brain for the one that was the worst. “Well, last year this guy asked me out to a really nice restaurant. Then ‘forgot’ his wallet at home. I didn’t have enough money to cover it, so I had to call my dad to bail us out.”
“Wow.” He cringed. “That’s pretty bad.”
“Yeah. Needless to say, it was also our last date.” The saddest part was, the guy didn’t seem to even care that he’d been a total douche. He still waved at me in the hallways sometimes. I just shook my head. “But Joshua has an even better one. He went on a date with a guy who showed up dressed just like him, down to hairstyle and shoes. Even talked like him. It was so creepy that Joshua faked stomach cramps about ten minutes in and bailed.”
Benjamin laughed. “That’s a first.”
“How about you?”
“I’ve been lucky to not really have had any bad dates.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just nodded.
He chewed on his lower lip and shot me a surprisingly shy look. “Actually, I haven’t been on a lot of dates at all. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rather awkward.”
My chest swelled; Benjamin was opening up to me. I reached over and patted his hand in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture, but once my fingers touched his, I found myself stroking them. Just once, just to touch his skin.
He flipped his hand over and, with his index finger, stroked my palm. A smooth slide that sent shivers dancing across my flesh. My lips parted, and his eyes grew dark and hooded.
“Here’s your check,” the waitress said, and we jerked away from each other, the mood broken. My cheeks burned, and I tried to recover by digging into my purse while she walked away.
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br /> “I got it,” Benjamin said.
“No, it’s okay. I—”
“Seriously. It’s fine.” The quiet firmness in his voice drew my attention. I peered into his eyes and saw flickers in his pupils. “I can pay for pizza, Camilla.”
I gave a hesitant nod and put my wallet away. “That’s really sweet of you. Thanks.”
“It’s not.”
“What?”
Benjamin leaned forward. His face was lean and shadowed because of the dim light above us, and his eyes were all intensity, locked on mine. “I’m not a sweet guy. I’m abrupt. People say I’m off-putting. But you keep trying to talk to me anyway. Why?”
There was so much genuine questioning in his eyes that I couldn’t look away. “Why? Because I think you’re interesting,” I admitted. I dropped my hands in my lap so I wouldn’t be tempted to brush my fingers along his hair. “You see the world in a way I don’t. You’re quiet, yes, but there’s a depth to you that isn’t in most guys in our school.”
I was drawn to Benjamin. And the more he dropped those walls and let me in, the more he revealed these surprising snippets about himself, the more I wanted to get closer. To taste that mouth again, to let this raging emotion in my chest burst free.
But he was so hard to read, and I was afraid. One minute it seemed like he liked me. The next, he was pushing me away. Was he just too afraid to rush into it, given the confession about not dating a lot? Or was he still sorting out how he felt?
“I think you’re interesting too.” His words were quiet, but they stirred something in my soul.
Benjamin found me interesting. Perhaps there was hope after all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Joshua
This cheeseburger makes me happy to be alive.” Ethan took a huge bite of his burger, a blissful smile on his face as he chewed.
I nodded, then polished off the last bite of mine. “It was cooked perfectly.” The guys at Rustic Burgers didn’t joke around with hamburgers. There weren’t a ton of fancy toppings, no gourmet offerings. What you got were amazing, regular burgers for dirt cheap. No wonder so many high schoolers hung out here.