Five
“Uh, Dad.” I walked over and gently nudged his arm aside. “This is Elliot. I forgot to mention that he was coming over to study today.”
My dad’s eyes were filled with skepticism as he glared at Elliot, clearly still upset that this strange boy referred to his daughter as a Princess.
“Elliot,” he repeated, seething his words. “Come in.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Elliot greeted him with an outstretched hand.
Ignoring the gesture, my dad flicked his gaze between the two of us. The air in my lungs became lodged in my throat, preventing me from uttering a single breath as I stood silently watching their awkward exchange. You could cut the tension with a knife.
“Are you two…?”
Elliot’s eyes went wide. “No.”
“Never.”
“Well, that’s a strong reaction,” Elliot muttered, shooting a glance in my direction.
“We are just studying. We’re barely even friends. I promise.”
My dad squinted at me. “If you two aren’t friends, then why are you studying together?”
“Uhhh…we just…we were...” I stammered, stumbling over my words as my brain struggled to form a coherent sentence. “The teacher assigned us as project partners in AP Lit. It wasn’t really our choice.”
Elliot smiled as he held up a copy of Invisible Man , its cover torn and battered despite having received it only a few days earlier.
My dad nodded cautiously, his feet pulling him toward Elliot as he narrowed his eyes. “Try anything with my daughter and I’ll—”
“Dad!” I interrupted. “We’re just gonna go into the library and study.”
I grabbed Elliot’s arm, digging my nails into the fabric of his hoodie as I dragged him up the stairs, pulling him away from my father.
“You have a library?” Elliot murmured, his footsteps thudding up the steps behind me.
My dad anchored himself at the bottom of the stairs, tracing our every move before shouting, “She’s on her period, so don’t even think about having sex!”
“Dad, stop!” I cried out, my face turning as red as a ripe tomato. “ Oh my God .”
I tugged on Elliot’s arm, my feet moving hastily as I scurried out of my father’s sight. There might as well have been a bear chasing us; I fled so fast. When we reached the top of the stairs, I let out a sigh of relief.
“So…are you actually on your—”
I halted abruptly, jabbing my finger against his chest, causing him to freeze.
“I’m gonna stop you right there, Abercrombie. That’s none of your business.”
A smirk gradually formed on his lips. “ Abercrombie ?”
“Shut up,” I growled as I spun around, frustrated with myself for allowing the secret nickname I had given him to slip out.
Walking over to my bedroom door, Elliot followed closely behind.
I glared up at him. “I’m going to grab my book from my room. Just…stay.”
“What am I? Your dog?”
“Well, if the shoe fits…”
“Seriously?”
“Just stay.”
He raised his hands in defeat. “Woof.”
If I roll my eyes one more time today, I think they’ll get stuck like this.
Brushing aside my thoughts, I opened my bedroom door and softly closed it behind me. I stared at what essentially resembled the cover of a 2000s magazine if it had thrown up everywhere.
My walls were painted a dusty rose, accented by white and pink furniture throughout the room.
In one corner stood an antique desk I had pleaded for when I was thirteen.
My typewriter rested on it, surrounded by stacks of journals.
A massive bookshelf loomed from floor to ceiling, overflowing with books.
Funny thing was that the collection represented barely half of what I had read in my life, with many others stored away in boxes.
Across the room, pinned to a large bulletin board, were several of my favorite poems and excerpts from books I had typed and cut into small scraps. Against the back wall, directly opposite my bed, was a large flat-screen TV decorated with fairy lights.
I exhaled deeply as I looked around at the unconventional room I had managed to decorate.
Quite unusual for your typical eighteen-year-old, which was why I had never invited anyone inside.
Ever . Sure, people had come over, but they had never gone into my room.
I mean, when you had a massive living room, a snug library, a home theater larger than most nearby cinemas, and a backyard pool…
hanging out in a bedroom didn’t seem all that appealing.
“Whoa.” I heard Elliot’s voice behind me. I turned around and saw him step through the door, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.
Why the hell didn’t I lock the door?
“I told you to stay!”
“Yeah, I don’t roll over so easily,” he said, his eyes still fixated on everything but me. “Your room…”
I picked at my nails. “What about it?”
“I figured you’d have, like, pom-poms and glitter in here or something. This is way cooler.”
My heartbeat settled into a steady rhythm as I exhaled in relief. A faint smile tugged at his lips. I watched as he spun around, taking it all in with awe. Keeping my head low, I walked over to my bag and pulled out my book.
“Let’s go.” I opened the door and motioned for him to leave. “Now.”
He stepped closer, his eyes piercing straight through me. Calling it vulnerability would be an understatement. Why couldn’t he just listen and stay in the hall?
I glared at him, my expression twisting into a sneer as his face hovered just inches from mine.
“Woof.” He smirked.
And just like that, he had left. I closed my eyes, trying to regain my sanity.
Pushing aside my pride and mustering up the last bit of dignity I had, I followed behind him and closed my bedroom door, hoping that now that we had left, any memory of what just happened would drift away.
I led the two of us over to the library, and when we stepped inside, Elliot’s eyes popped out of his head.
The reading room had a sleek, modern design, with gray bookshelves lining every wall except for one corner, where a desk and an iMac sat.
At the center of the space, a large table commanded most of the attention—it was the first thing people noticed when they walked in.
I pulled out a chair and sat down, with Elliot following suit.
An awkward silence settled between us as we opened our books, burying ourselves in the text.
I knew I should have said something, but my pride was still too wounded to let me.
So instead, I bit my tongue and quietly annotated my book.
Every so often, I glanced up at Elliot, only to catch him already looking at me.
“Are you reading the book at all?”
“I’m trying to read your mind and absorb your smarts.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“And you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
“Just focus on the book. I want to compare notes after each chapter to make sure you actually understand everything.”
He rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms above his head. Being with Elliot felt like having every single tooth ripped from my mouth without anesthesia. A few minutes later, my eyes flicked up from the book, and again I locked eyes with Elliot.
“Dude, seriously. Did you lose something over here?”
“You just…” He rubbed his fingers harshly against his forehead, leaving a red streak behind. “You just look so different at home than you do at school.”
I panicked internally as I glanced down at my outfit.
I was still in the spaghetti-stained sweatshirt and a pair of faded leggings from earlier.
I hadn’t had time to change, having completely forgotten about my study session with Elliot until he arrived.
I looked like a disaster. I lowered my gaze and ran my fingers through my messy hair, trying to tame it.
“Oh, I just…umm—”
“Stop,” he said, resting his hand on mine. A wave of electricity coursed through my body. “Don’t be embarrassed. I…like this version of you.”
My body tensed, every muscle locking up. I froze, unable to look away from his hand on mine. Barely a moment after making contact, he eased his grip, just as I was starting to settle into it.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s fine. Uh, thanks.”
“Yeah. So, um, we should get back to the book.”
“Yeah.”
No matter how many times I read the same sentence, I couldn’t get my mind to focus.
How could he possibly like how I looked right now?
Honestly, calling my appearance a four-car pileup was being generous.
I wasn’t new to compliments, but usually, I looked.
..better? More put together? Not like a zombie?
My reputation was built on being a pretty girl with a bubbly personality, so how was it that Elliot didn’t seem to care about either?
My thoughts were interrupted when my dad walked into the library with a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies, with Cleo following close behind.
Without hesitation, the cat jumped right onto Elliot’s lap, settling on him as if she were his best friend. The look of pure fear in Elliot’s eyes was impossible to miss. My dad smiled widely as he set the cookies down in the middle of the table.
“Is this your way of apologizing for earlier?” I asked, closing my book.
“More like me checking to see if the two of you still have your clothes on.”
“Ew, Dad. Gross.”
“Kidding,” he remarked, lifting Cleo into his arms as relief washed over Elliot’s face. He gestured toward the plate and added, “I think it’s only fair that Elliot gets the first cookie, since I was being so hard on him.”
“Oh,” Elliot said, seeming taken aback at my dad’s words. “Okay, sure. Thanks.”
Before I could question his motives, Elliot shoved a whole cookie into his mouth, chewing as though it had been ages since his last meal. Crumbs scattered from his lips as he smacked them together.
“Hope you like it. It’s a new recipe I’ve been working on. Milk chocolate, eggs, butter, brown sugar, flour, and laxatives .”