Chapter 5 #2
My eyes rolled, and I crossed my fingers in the air with a laugh. It took a lot to keep up the playful act when I honestly felt a little sick by now. I hated lying to begin with; doing it to my friends felt objectively worse. Like treason. I swear I will not be mad at you. Now what did you do?
One word was enough. She winced even before she said, Jason.
The smile on my face fell, my eyes narrowed, and at least I didn’t have to fake any more emotions. It couldn’t get more honest than this: Iris— I began, disappointment, annoyance, disbelief in my tone.
In defense, she whisper-shouted, You promised not to be mad!
Scum-of-the-earth-Jason, as we’d affectionately nicknamed him, had given Iris the world, then, on a random Saturday night, told her he wasn’t ready for a relationship, wasn’t ready to be a boyfriend—when he’d been boyfriend-ing for a whole two months beforehand.
To make matters worse, he’d gotten into a relationship two weeks later.
Knowing Athalia Pressley had slashed his tires after they’d broken up years ago should’ve been enough reason for Iris to stay away from the guy. But alas.
That had been four months ago, on the day I should’ve told my friends about Caden. Iris’ heartbreak took priority over my sex life, though, which was why I’d kept my mouth shut. For a little too long.
We’ve just been talking, she confessed. He texted me a few days after they broke up. Apologized, asked if we could see each other—
To which you should’ve said, fuck you. I thought you blocked him! I cried.
She gave me an apologetic smile, pearly teeth and gap between them on full display. I did not. I’m sorry!
I sighed. In defeat and acceptance, I think. And now what?
Iris shook her head. Nothing, she shrugged. Going in with no expectations. We’ve been texting, that’s all. Although it’s been a little quiet since we left campus. But that makes sense— she hesitated. Right?
I kept from rolling my eyes and agreed, only not to make her feel worse. Sure.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier! she repeated. I just wanted to see what he wanted before you steal my phone, block him and delete his number for good. Otherwise I would’ve told you right away. The urge was very strong.
And there it was again: guilt. Running from the tip of my toes to the top of my head, heating my blood and making me blush with… shame, probably.
Tell her, tell her, tell her.
It’s fine, really. I gave a weak smile. Sometimes we think keeping something to ourselves is the better option, right? I tried to test the waters, and wasn’t surprised when I got scalded with her next words.
Nah, Iris snickered, then nudged my shoulder in amusement. It was stupid. You tell me everything, I tell you everything. That’s how it’s supposed to be.
Fuck. Was someone giving her a script of exactly what to say to make me feel worse? If they were, it was working.
I faked another laugh, and something finally snapped. Speaking of— Telling each other everything, I wanted to say. I might’ve omitted a small detail about Caden and me. We aren’t just sharing a room, but had shared drinks, then personal space, then saliva.
I’d been this close to laying it all on the table, but Alfie ruined it. Because just five feet away from us, he barfed into a trash can.
Which made Iris beside me squeal in disgust, then gag. Dude! she cried.
It kind of ruined the moment. Another time, then. I’d tell her, just not now.
Sorry, sorry. I’m fine, Alfie waved it off, but looked the opposite. Just need— His hand came up to his mouth. Ice cream. To cleanse my palate.
At this point, Alfie throwing up on the way here was a common enough occurrence not to fuss over it more than Iris’ squeal had. Usually, it just happened way earlier. Not on the boardwalk, busy with people who’d decided to keep a safe distance from us now, sidestepping with worried glances.
I sighed. You guys go ahead, I’ll meet you at Charlie’s. Alfie’s face had almost gone back to its normal color. For ice-cream, I emphasized. And to get my guilty conscience back under control.
Caden hadn’t said much in the past fifteen minutes, probably lost in thought; maybe wondering what he’d done to me (nothing) and when I’d turned into such an asshole (out of necessity, I’m sorry!), and he hadn’t once looked back.
Not for Anni’s and Alfie’s arguing, not when Iris had complained, or when Alfie had thrown up.
Now, though, his eyes flicked to mine, and something inside of me reacted. Bad sign.
Before he could say anything, Iris, having overcome her own nausea, guessed, Boardwalk Books?
And I nodded.
The white color of the inconspicuous little bookstore by the water had become so worn over time, only flecks of it were left, leaving the wooden building looking tattered. Some (me) would call it charming.
And while my degree had kept me busy during the semester, these two months on Oakport were the only time I could catch up on my books for the year. Ninety percent of my reading happened here, with books from this exact shop.
On good days, the owner, Anthony, would lend me some, if I promised not to break the spine and bring them back. Other times, copies I’d swooned over all week magically appeared on my desk the next day, and Alfie always swore he had nothing to do with it. Shame he’s an awful liar.
I’d love to, Iris winced before she even said the next words. But I really need to sit down. Just thinking about the stuffy air in there— She cut herself off with another gag. Alfie nodded vehemently.
Iris, I snickered. I will survive a bookstore by myself. Like I said, you guys go ahead.
That way, at least I didn’t have to worry about how much time I’d spend reading blurbs, admiring covers and getting lost in first chapters. A win-win situation in my book.
Just not in my friends’.
Iris snorted, as if the suggestion in itself had been ridiculous.
Alfie, almost fully recovered, carefully shook his head like I should’ve known better.
And Anni, the only one who understood where I was coming from, simply shrugged.
She knew there’d be nothing I could do about what would happen, and her look told me to just give up now.
My suggestion wasn’t dignified with a response; instead Iris asked, Who here is still either drunk or hungover?
Her own, Alfie’s and Anni’s hands shot up.
And who here will die if they are separated from Annika?
Which was when Mike’s hand went up, too, a sheepish smile on his lips.
Iris cleared her throat. Settled, then. Caden’s staying with Valentina. Do you read, Caden?
My gaze shot in his direction, and I slowly, gently shook my head. To signal, no, you don’t read. In fact, you have deep-rooted issues keeping you from ever entering a bookstore again.
His smile was so big, I’m sure it was meant to piss me off. Love it.
Unfortunately, I still had to match it when every single pair of eyes shifted back to me. No, really. He doesn’t have to. I looked back at him, emphasizing: You don’t have to.
No, no, no! Iris intervened, knowing grimace on her face. Don’t fall victim to Valentina’s puppy eyes. She’ll look at you, round eyes all sad, and suddenly you’re prone to do whatever she wants. Don’t fall for it, Caden.
Intrigue and amusement glimmered in his gaze. He wasn’t even looking at my best friend when he said, eyes still locked with mine, I’ll try my best.
It’s all anyone can do with this one, Alfie noted.
I tried to reason, I don’t know what you guys are talking about— but didn’t get very far.
All four of them started walking backward, keeping their eyes on us to make sure Caden and I wouldn’t separate.
But seeing their proud, mischievous smiles, I could only sigh. In defeat and amusement and annoyance.
I loved these guys so much, even when they left me with the one person I shouldn’t—and didn’t want to—be left behind with, I couldn’t be mad at them.
Even when I was drowning in guilt, I couldn’t help but smile.
The second they turned around and disappeared into the familiar bustle of the Isleton boardwalk on a Sunday afternoon, the corners of my mouth dropped, though. Thanks for… literally nothing. I glanced at the man beside me, shoving my guilty conscience into my back pocket.
Caden held the door to the shop open, waited until I stepped inside, and followed. Can you blame a man who loves books for wanting to go to a bookstore? he asked, the bell above the door ringing a second time. And can you blame any man at all, for wanting to spend time with you?
I snickered, but gave Anthony behind the counter a warm smile. My voice lowered when I hissed in Caden’s direction, Yes. If the man knows I’m not going to sleep with him.
Which made him snicker. Contrary to popular belief, Valentina, I am capable of being friends with the opposite gender.
Do you need references to believe me? I could give you their numbers—I’m sure they’d love to tell you all about it.
Caden Callahan is an amazing friend and has never tried to sleep with me. Ten out of ten. Great company, too.
And that’s what you want us to be? I asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow as I disappeared into an aisle. He followed. Friends?
Caden tilted his head, and I used the few seconds of silence between us to look at him, sun peeking through the dusty windows of the shop behind him.
His blond buzzcut, blue eyes, cheeks and nose a little reddened from the sun.
Not necessarily, he said, honestly and not at all embarrassed about it.
The nonchalance in his voice made me blush, for some reason.
But I respect your boundaries. And we are sharing a room for a considerable amount of time.
So, yes, maybe I think we should be friends.
It’s the very least we should be. For the sake of this trip.
He blinked at me. For the sake of anyone else on this trip with us.
Of course, he couldn’t know everyone else on this trip with us was the reason I was acting this unreasonably in the first place. That I didn’t think I could do the whole friends thing with Caden, without eventually wanting to do the whole benefits thing, too.
Which I couldn’t do without breaking the one rule my best friend cared about.
All I had to remember was Iris’ face when she’d told us about what had happened with her ex and their friends.
How almost four years ago, we’d sat around a bonfire, and she’d told us the tragic tale: her high school sweetheart breaking up with her.
Their friends, slowly drawing away from her.
Telling her they were busy when she was heartbroken and grieving, then seeing all of them hanging out together, including her ex.
How she hadn’t just lost the love of her life (who’d turned out to be a loser) that day, but all of her friends, too.
The No-Fraternization-Rule wasn’t just a stupid inside joke to Iris.
It meant something to her, and so it meant something to me.
And surely I could avoid some guy I seemed to have spectacular chemistry with if it meant not breaking my best friend’s trust—even if said spectacular-chemistry-guy and I shared a room.
Caden and I couldn’t be friends. Ironically, that had been off the table the second Iris had ceremoniously declared him our friend over breakfast. He just didn’t know that.
Standing at the other end of the short aisle, books left and right of us, he honest-to-God looked a little hopeful.
Like he’d finally found a way to bury the hatchet I’d put between us.
I felt bad—not just a little—when I simply turned around and disappeared into the romance section, leaving him standing somewhere between self-help and cookbooks without an answer.
I had never been in the position to make someone dislike me before. Usually, I worked overtime to get every single person in my vicinity to love me. But if Caden wanted to be my friend so badly, I’d simply have to convince him otherwise.
Show him my worst side: the one that didn’t put others’ feelings before her own, didn’t always smile to keep up the mood, sacrificed her own plans to make sure everyone else was enjoying themselves, and didn’t always give and give and give.
Coincidentally, that had been the plan for the summer, anyway.
And this way, Caden could simply be my guinea pig; I’d get to be selfish around him, put myself first the way my bucket list intended, and I didn’t even need to be worried about repercussions, because I didn’t want him to like me in the first place.
It was perfect.
A sense of peace settled as my plan fell into place. Like I’d averted a crisis before it had fully turned into one. By day three, at the latest, he’d be fed up with my act enough to leave me alone of his own accord—move into the attic by his own free-will, only to escape me.
No one really stuck around if you didn’t give them your best, right? Best grades, prettiest smile, funniest jokes.
So, as I traced the pastel-colored spines in the romance section—some books I’d read, others I’d been dying to—studied blurbs of mysteries, and marveled at fantasy covers, I tried my very hardest not think about Caden waiting on me to finish.
That’s what I’d just decided on, right? Putting myself first.
But despite my incessant need to ignore him, he was like a lingering shadow.
Didn’t speak, didn’t even hover close by, but I could feel him—around the corner or behind the shelves, head buried in a novel.
Every now and then, my gaze unexpectedly met his, and he’d give me a small smile before turning his attention back to the book in his hand.
And something plummeted into the pit of my stomach every time.