8. KOA
8
KOA
Sydney walks back toward the bookstore with her ponytail of curls bouncing with every step. She has on one of her signature pair of jeans that is painted in a multitude of colors and a loose fitting floral top that skims her midriff.
At first glance you would think the patterns and colors clash, but she makes it work. She’s never been afraid to be seen or stand out.
“Why don’t you find us a table? I’ll order our drinks.” I pass her the shopping bag with her books inside.
“You trust me with these?” she asks, taking the bag with careful hands. I don’t know if it’s because she’s trying to avoid touching me or because she's protecting her books.
“I do. Go ahead. I’m sure you’re dying to crack them open and look at the pages.” I place my hands on her shoulders and spin her around. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She takes one last glance at me over her shoulder before she finds a table in the middle of the cafe. She excitedly pulls out one of the books from her bag and admires the cover. Her fingers trace over the illustrations while she smiles like a kid in a candy store .
I had a feeling I would find her here. After I texted her several times with no response, I figured she was hiding out at one of her favorite places. I keep messing up with her. The only thing I know how to do is make her angry or guilt her into spending time with me.
I move up a spot in line and place our order. I hope she still likes the sweet caramel drink she used to get. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the privilege to buy her an iced coffee.
Sydney snaps a selfie with one of her books and taps away on her phone. Once she’s done, she goes right back to reading. Her lips twitch trying to hold back her reaction to the words she’s reading on the page. She’s always been a pro at keeping a poker face when it comes to reading.
You would never be able to tell if she was reading about someone falling in love or someone getting chased by a serial killer. Shit, in some of her books it’s probably one in the same.
Her face might be hard to read when it’s stuck in a book, but when she’s looking at me? She doesn’t hide a thing. Sometimes I wish she did. She may blush thinking about our kiss but that doesn’t negate how upset she is with me or how much I’ve hurt her. My only hope is somewhere underneath all that pain there’s still a part of her that remembers what we used to be.
My phone buzzes in my hand, lighting up with a notification from the Fiction Forum . Keeping one eye on Sydney, I pull open the app. It’s a private message from FaeAtHeart .
Clicking on the message, my pulse quickens. She’s cropped the image where most of her face is hidden. All I can see is her chin and a portion of her mouth that is in a full smile. The book is the main focus.
FaeAtHeart
Look what I have. I can finally start reading the series now that the duet is complete.
NotYourAverageJoe19
You bought it. Book ban over I see.
I glance at Sydney as she reads my message. Her eyes catch mine momentarily before going back to her phone. I turn toward the baristas and pretend I’m waiting for our coffees instead of her reply.
FaeAtHeart
Technically my book ban is still intact. A friend bought it for me.
A friend? She’s obviously just saying that. As much as I want it to be true, Sydney Pierce stopped considering me a friend a long time ago. She tolerates my presence at best and puts on a good act in front of everyone to keep the peace.
NotYourAverageJoe19
Nice friend. It’s pretty well known the friends who buy you books are the best ones. A total keeper.
I hit send and put my phone on do not disturb. The last thing I need is my phone going off in front of her after she sends a message to “Joe” and she figures out not only does he live in Alabama but he also goes to the same school.
Oh and fun fact, he’s also the same guy who’s been in love with you since the ninth grade and the guy you can’t stand to spend more than five minutes with.
The barista calls my name and hands over my coffees with a flirty smile. As I walk away, I notice there is a phone number written on one of the cups. That’s bold considering I’m here with Sydney.
Taking the seat beside her instead of across from her like I’m sure she hoped, I slide the cup with the phone number in Sydney’s direction.
“I think this one is yours,” she says, eyeing the number.
“They’re the same drink. You can have that one.”
Sydney lifts her gaze over my shoulder. “She’s staring at you.”
“And? I’m here with you.” I grab her chair and pull her closer to me. “Let her watch.” I run my finger over the barrette she has in her hair. “This is new.”
“I made it the other day.” She grabs my hand and holds it under the table. “This isn’t going to be a thing,” she says, dropping my hand in my lap.
“What isn’t?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and taking a sip of my coffee. She got me hooked on these frappuccino drinks freshman year.
“Us pretending to be a couple to ward off unwanted attention. You can deal with your groupies on your own. I don’t want anything to do with that.”
“You act like I have girls following me around all the time.” Sure there are random groups of girls hanging out at our games and practices. I can’t control that. There are also over thirty guys on the team. They aren’t coming just to see me.
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay attention to who’s showing up at your games and practices.”
“We have something in common. I don’t pay attention to them either.” I'm too busy paying attention to you. My eyes hold hers for a beat before she looks away.
“Great. Can we get started with this?” She taps around on her phone until a blank note appears. “We should keep the food simple and order pizza. Maybe some chips. A cake of course. Can you get the decorations?” Her eyes meet mine and she rolls them in frustration. “Fine. I’ll get them.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” She adds streamers, balloons, and a sign on her list.
“Why don’t we both go get them?”
She regards me for a moment before going back to her phone. “I don’t think so. We can do the planning part together but after that it’s better if we split up.”
I scoff. “That isn’t true. We’ve always been better together,” I murmur.
Her jaw ticks as she bites down on her lower lip. “Should we have a theme?” she asks, ignoring my remark even though it clearly bothers her.
“Like what? You, Charlie, and Wyatt are the only ones who like costumes. ”
“We could do a luau or sports themed or maybe a masquerade,” she says, deleting her original decorating ideas and typing up new ones. Then she takes a quick sip of her coffee.
“But then you wouldn’t be able to see my face,” I joke.
“All the more reason to do one,” she grumbles. “Let’s do a luau. Nash will like that. He can get lei’d all night by girls in bikinis. It will make all the other guys happy too. Can you handle the guest list if I make invitations?”
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll invite a few guys from the football team, his friends from class, maybe some of our neighbors.”
“Not too many. Hart will never forgive you. Don’t forget about Enzo and Marco. We need to do this on a night they're free too.”
I pull out my phone and send them both a quick text. They may go to a different college but we all went to high school together. They’re an important part of our friend group. They’re family, with some of us more so than others.
“I’ll let you know what they say,” I tell her, but my mind keeps drifting back to the dress code for the party. “What are you going to wear? Nash won’t be able to relax and have fun if all his friends are checking you out and hitting on you.” The lie is one I’ve perfected over the years.
The truth is I’m going to be the one struggling to keep myself in check around her if she’s wearing nothing more than a bathing suit. I have a hard enough time being around her when she’s wearing everyday clothes.
Like right now her blouse dips low on her back. I’m tempted to drape my arm over the back of her chair and trace my thumb over the scar she has on her shoulder—she got it when she fell out of the tree in her backyard.
She lets out a slow breath. Her eyes narrow on me. “That sounds like a Nash problem to me. What did he ask you to do exactly when we left for college?” She puts her elbows on the table and leans toward me. “He obviously put you on some kind of big brother mission. Whatever it was, you can stop now.”
I’m not sure how to answer her. The truth is he asked me to keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s happy, making friends, and adjusting. I’m the one who chose to make all of her business my business.
I’m the one who couldn’t stop watching her once she got settled in her new life on campus. I’m the one who can’t let her go.
“He asked me to keep an eye on you when he isn’t able to.” I shrug to play down the whole thing.
She chuckles coldly. “Right. You know what. Why don’t you pick out my outfit? That way it will be something you both approve of.”
“Sydney,” I say with a sigh.
“I’m serious. Add it to your list. You can rummage through my closet and find me something appropriate to wear to the party.”
The idea of watching Sydney trying on outfits has my jeans feeling like they’re suddenly a size too small. I squirm in my seat hoping that will offer me a little bit of relief.
“Fine,” I reluctantly agree.
“Great. So you’ll do invites and coordinate outfits. I’ll handle the food, drinks, and decorations. Anything else?”
“No, I think that about covers everything. I can help with decorations.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get Charlie or Wren to help me. You’re already busy enough with games, practice, and following me around everywhere. I would hate to burden you more,” she snarks.
“Helping you with Nash’s party isn’t a burden.”
“Of course. You would do anything for your best friend.” She begins to gather up her things and stands from the table.
“Wait a minute. What does that mean?” I ask, taking a step toward her, blocking her departure.
“Don’t worry about it. In fact, don’t worry about me either,” she says with a fierceness in her eyes. “I don’t want you hanging around everywhere I am anymore.”
All I can do is stare back at her and wonder what I can possibly do to fix this. Her deep sigh seeps under my skin. I'll be carrying it with me as a reminder of how bad I’ve managed to screw everything up between us.
“Can we just get through this and go our separate ways?” she asks.
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Maybe it’s time you start bossing around someone new. Here.” She pushes her coffee cup into my chest. “Start with her. She looks like she might like it. ”
Sydney walks toward the exit but I’m right on her heels. I stop by the trash can and make a show of draining the coffee and tossing it in the trash.
It doesn’t take me long to spot Syd in the parking lot. I slide in between cars and manage to reach her as she opens her door. I drop my forearm on the roof of her car and keep the door open with the other, essentially caging her in.
The air thickens between us as we both stare at each other waiting for the other one to say something. I know I need to speak first.
“You used to like me bossing you around,” I say, leaning closer to her beautiful face.
“Once. A long time ago. It won’t happen again.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, not thinking straight. Being this close to her has me opening my mouth and saying all the wrong things.
She rears her head back. “You can’t be serious right now.” Her body tremors as she takes a steadying breath. “I guess you forgot. Let me remind you. It’s because,” she says, pushing me on my chest. I give her the space she’s requesting. “I was never enough.” Her car door slams shut punctuating her statement.
I was never enough.
Her parting words play on repeat as I stand in the parking lot watching her drive away. Is this what she’s thought all these years? That she wasn’t enough? That couldn’t be further from the truth .
An oversized SUV honks a horn forcing me to move so they can have her vacated spot. Walking back to my car, I know things have to change. I can’t let her go another day thinking she wasn’t enough.