“Well, yeah,” he drawls, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. But then his expression becomes worried. “Why, do you think she sent it to me as a friend meme?”
Oh my gosh, I don’t have time for this!
“Holt,” I say, my tone firm, “slow and steady wins the race, okay? I have one word for you: patience. Get some.”
And with that, I go around him so I can continue with my original intentions. It’s too late though. Brayden is turning onto another hallway, and Beth is strutting toward Mr. Sunshine’s classroom. At least they’re not talking anymore—or doing anything else.
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
“Chill out, Megan,” I mutter to myself as I follow Beth’s lead, “this isn’t middle school.”
Gosh, it used to make me so mad when all the girls would constantly find ways to talk to Brayden back then. It was like he had his own personal fan club. Those girls were everywhere. I even remember a lot of them trying to act like they were my friends just to get closer to him.
I scowl at the memories.
I might’ve been heartbroken when Brayden and I broke up, but I definitely didn’t miss all the girl drama.
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
I’m not looking for history to repeat itself. History can’t repeat itself. I refuse to fall for Brayden again.
I won’t let it happen.
Chapter 19: Hunky Guys with Great Hair
First, it was Beth. Now? It’s Celise. Brayden has his own tablet, but she’s sitting right beside him like they’re still sharing hers, and Mrs. Flint isn’t doing anything about it.
I mentally chant my newfound motto once again. If Celise wants to invade his personal space, and he doesn’t care, neither do I.
I don’t care. It has nothing to do with me. Which is why I spend the rest of class watching them. I might not know what section Mrs. Flint was reading from; but I can tell you the exact amount of times that Celise touched Brayden’s arm, leaned in to whisper something to him, or gave him a flirty look.
I’m extremely disappointed in myself.
Not wanting to be around for any kind of encore, I leave the classroom as fast as possible and fall into the usual after class hallway traffic.
I wish it was already the weekend again…
“Hey, Megan!”
I’m now realizing that “hey, Megan!” has become a common phrase of his, and I’m not okay with it.
“Good morning, neighbor,” Brayden greets me, appearing by my side, “did you end up finishing your homework?”
Right, my really bad fake excuse.
“I got it all done,” I reply in a cool tone, “no big deal.”
Because—ya know—there wasn’t any homework left for me to do in the first place.
“Well, that’s good,” he drawls as we continue to walk, “I’m still surprised you waited until yesterday to do it though. I mean, back in middle school you would always get your homework done early and then you’d scold me for slacking on mine.”
He’s not wrong, it felt like I was always scolding him about putting off his homework. My almost twelve-year-old self was paranoid that he was going to get suspended over it…
“Hey, it’s okay if we talk about ‘back then,’ right?” he asks, using air quotations. “I know you didn’t want to before; but now that we’ve started over again for real this time, there’s no reason why we can’t talk about it. Don’t you think so?”
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
We can totally talk about the past. I can handle that. Maybe. Probably not, in all honesty, but I’ll just act like I can.
“Yeah,” I agree with a slight nod, “I feel the same way.”
Or at least I will eventually…
Hopefully.
“Good,” he says before flashing me a quick grin, “and just so you know—sometimes I would pretend to slack on my homework because I thought it was cute when you’d scold me. I wasn’t always late in getting it done.”
I shouldn’t be blushing right now. But guess what? I definitely am.
“Well, anyway,” he drawls, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?”
“Uh-huh,” I manage to reply, “see you then.”
Being attracted to him doesn’t mean I like him.
He turns down the other hallway, and I force myself to keep walking.
So what if he thought it was cute when I scolded him? It’s not like that matters now. Why did he even bother to mention it anyway?
Just forget about it, Megan.
And I do. For a while. But once lunch period comes around, it’s at the front of my mind again. Shocker. I blame him though. He didn’t have to share that little tidbit of information with me. I wish he hadn’t.
Liar.
Unfortunately, that’s accurate.
After getting my food from the lunch line, I look around the cafeteria for Lora.
Yeah, that’s right. Not Brayden. LORA.
I spot her sitting at a table by herself, and I don’t hesitate in going over there so I can sit across from her.
“Hey,” she barely greets me, eyes glued to her phone, “what’s up?”
“More cat videos?” I ask, eating one of my grapes. “Or are you sending more memes to Holt?”
Because, as her best friend, it’s my job to know.
She looks up at me with creased eyebrows. “How did—” She proceeds to curse. “He’s ridiculous. Why the heck would he even tell you about that?”
“Apparently it’s a pretty big deal,” I tell her, widening my eyes for sarcastic emphasis. “Don’t you know what a food meme means on the relationship scale?”
“You’re not funny, Megan,” she says with a frown. “What else did he tell you?”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “Was there something else he should’ve told me?”
“Stop.” She
