Being attracted to him DOESN’T mean I like him.
“Right,” I reply, pushing my thoughts aside, “that makes sense.”
What else is there for me to say?
“So…” he trails off, watching me expectantly. “Does this mean you will give me a second chance? Officially now?”
“Sure,” I say, barely lifting a shoulder, “why not?”
He nods, a thoughtful look passing over his face. “Are you still upset with me though?”
At this point, I’m feeling more upset with myself…
“No,” I tell him in all honesty, “I’m not still upset with you.”
“Well, good,” he says with a slight grin, “because I can’t have my favorite neighbor mad at me.”
He’s not flirting. He’s just being Brayden.
“You should know that all the peanut butter cookies are long gone,” I lie, crossing my arms, “so there’s no point in trying to flatter me.”
“Dang it,” he drawls, crossing his arms as well, “I totally take it back then. You’re not my favorite neighbor anymore.”
“That’s fine,” I shoot back, tilting my chin up, “you’re not my favorite neighbor either.”
He laughs a little, the sound making my heart flutter. “Can’t say I’m surprised…you did throw that blueberry bread at me.”
Not one of my finest moments.
I click my tongue. “Yeah, well, you kind of deserved it.”
Another laugh. “I won’t disagree.”
And then neither of us say a word as we stand there staring at each other, just like yesterday at Kyle’s soccer game, but this time it feels…different. Like, somehow it doesn’t bother me.
The moment suddenly ends though when Brayden steps around me. “Well, I should see if my dad needs help with anything else.”
“Uh, yeah,” I agree, despite being caught off-guard by his abruptness, “I have some homework to finish anyway.”
No, I don’t.
His eyebrow quirks up at that. “Kind of last minute, huh?”
“It makes it more exciting,” I blab the first thing that comes to mind. But why couldn’t I come up with a good fake excuse?
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” he says, a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. “See ya, neighbor.”
——————
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
I’ve been repeating the same thing in my head over and over again since Brayden and I “officially” started over yesterday; that way I can’t possibly get confused anymore. And though Lora has her doubts—which she expressed to me after I came back inside from talking to Brayden—I’m convinced it’s the truth, and it’s going to work. It has to.
If Brayden wants a second chance as friends, that’s what he’s getting.
“Have a great day, honey,” Mom tells me as I get out of the car, “don’t forget that your dad is picking you up…okay?”
Right, I can’t remember the reason she gave me at breakfast, but I do remember that it’s going to be him.
I give her a thumbs-up, mutter a farewell to Hailee and Kyle, then close the passenger door.
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
See? Easy.
I stroll into the school’s main building, my head held high like I don’t have a care in the world, and that’s when I see Brayden.
He’s leaning against one of the hallway columns while talking to Beth.
I repeat: He’s talking to Beth.
In theory, it shouldn’t matter, but he’s talking to BETH FLIPPIN’ VALERIO! Why? Did she start the conversation? Or did he?
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
It’s not very “friend-like” of me to be annoyed that they’re talking to each other. I should be indifferent. And for a second or two, I’m totally indifferent, but then—BUT THEN—Beth’s hand trails down his arm twice.
How can I be indifferent when talking is turning into touching? Well, guess what? I can’t. And that’s why I’m going to go over there and interrupt whatever it is they’re doing. Besides, Brayden did interrupt my conversation with Liam (where there was NO touching involved) on Saturday, interrupting him and Beth would only be fair.
I start to head toward them, but then a hand grasps my arm. “Wha—”
“Megan,” Holt says, gathering my attention, “I gotta talk to you really quick.”
Does this guy ever quit?
“Not now, Márquez,” I snap, shoving his hand off, “I’m busy.”
“Doing what?” he retorts, stepping in front of me. “Come on, Meg! It’ll only take a second, I swear.”
I roll my eyes at his whiny voice. “Fine. What is it?”
Because there’s no way he’s going to leave me alone unless I listen to him first.
“It’s about Lora.”
“Shocker,” I say, not bothering to mask my sarcasm, “what is it now, Holt?”
I glance past him to see if Brayden and Beth are still by the column—they are—and even though she’s not touching him anymore, she’s standing pretty darn close to him.
Ughhhhhh.
“I wanna ask her out.”
My attention snaps back to Holt. “You want to what?”
“I want to ask Lora out,” he drawls, looking at me expectantly. “Do you think she’ll go for it?”
“What happened to not trying so hard?” I ask, making a frustrated sound. “And ‘letting it happen naturally’?”
He frowns at my air quotations. “Isn’t asking her out the natural thing to do? I mean, we’ve been getting along pretty well.” He points a finger at me. “And on Saturday, she even texted me something that wasn’t about school.”
Well, that’s news to me. Lora hasn’t talked about Holt at all since our conversation on Thursday.
“See?”
I blink as he holds his phone in front of my face. “Uh, it’s a meme?”
“Exactly,” he says, now pocketing his phone, “it’s a food meme. And Lora knows how much I love those.”
“So…” I trail off, trying to understand. “You think you should ask her out because she sent you a food
