Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Denise
Amiyah doesn’t even bother knocking, she just storms into my room instead, arms crossed and attitude written all over her face.
I remain lying on my bed, only briefly looking up from my laptop screen that’s playing An American in Paris. Instead of fueling my dream of ever being able to dance with Gene Kelly, it reminds me of the night at Lou Lou’s with Lucas.
I’ve basically just been pretending that night was our last encounter and not when I basically told Lucas to fuck off.
Sure, the denial probably isn’t healthy but I can’t bring myself to talk to him.
To apologize. To admit that I was a bitch to him when in reality, I just wanted to wrap my arms around Lucas and tell him that I’m completely and utterly obsessed with him.
I’m not saying that I want to run off and marry Lucas right now, but there is something in me that wants to just allow myself to see if there could be something.
Maybe Lucas and I will just be better off as friends. Or maybe we could be something more. But even if we don’t work out, I still want to know more about his sisters. His parents. His favorite food. Whether he prefers sunrises or sunsets.
I’ve been scared to want Lucas because I don’t know all that entails but if I’m going to regret something, it might as well be giving us a chance instead of wondering about it my whole life.
And even though I know I want all of this, I keep seeing the hurt on Lucas’s face when I told him what we had was just about sex.
I think it’s easier to just not reach out at all than it would be for me to try and him to push me away.
I mean, he’d have every right to and I’d deserve it but that doesn’t mean it’d feel good.
Staring at his caller I.D. does nothing to help either. I spend most days staring at the screen, my thumb hovering over the call button but imaging the sound of the ringing or the ping of his response makes me sink to my stomach.
I’ll just stick to sulking and staring at his phone number for now.
Amiyah continues to loom over me, clearly unimpressed. “Since when do us Strykers spend our days rotting away?”
“Since this Stryker’s heart grew from being two sizes too small.” I bury myself deeper under my blanket, content with my bed rotting.
“Oh my god,” she groans, plopping down onto my bed. “If you don’t just get your ass up and talk to him.”
“And say what? I hurt him, Amiyah. I’m pretty sure he’s never going to want to talk to me again.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I mean I wouldn’t blame him.”
I don’t hesitate in reaching behind me to grab one of the many pillows, about to chuck it at her head. She rips the pillow from my hands, throwing it onto the floor.
“You haven’t been at your own apartment in two weeks just because you’re afraid to bump into him.”
“Okay, and?”
She groans, resting her forehead on my thigh. “You can’t avoid him forever, Denise.”
“Maybe not.” I pat her head, but still not bothering to try and sit up. “But I sure as hell can try.”
“No.” She stands up abruptly and rips my blanket from my body. “You’re supposed to be done pushing people away.”
“I’m not pushing anyone away. What are you talking about?”
“Okay look, I love you DD, but you have been an absolute bitch for the past few months and then Lucas comes along and…you were a little bit more like you again. Still a bitch but a nice bitch.”
I finally sit up while flipping her off in the process. She doesn’t even acknowledge it, just sitting down next to me again.
“I’m not saying you guys are destined by fate or whatever but you like him and he likes you. Can’t that just be enough goddamn it.”
I rest my head on Amiyah’s shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t think I’m very good for him.”
She rests her head on mine, looping her arm around me. She shrugs. “That’s kind of up to him, D.”
“And what if he tells me to fuck off?”
“Then you’re even.”
I slap her thigh but don’t argue ’cause she’s right. Lucas would have every right to lash out at me. I haven’t been the nicest person to him.
“Okay, how about this,” Amiyah begins. “Instead of worrying that Lucas is never going to want to talk to you again, why don’t you picture him being with a really hot blonde, that isn’t you all because you’re being a chickenshit right now?”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” she argues. “If I didn’t know any better, you’re all bark and no bite.”
I pull away from her and abruptly stand up. “Me?”
She stands up with me, arms crossed just like me and I’d usually laugh at how we need to stop spending so much time together, but right now I might be throwing hands with my sister.
“Yes, you,” she mocks. “What happened to the Denise who still continued to dance after her hip surgery? Or the Denise that doesn’t let Grace or Addison or literally anyone else talk their shit?
Where’s the Denise that was called a cunt all throughout high school but instead of crying about it, she literally reclaimed the word by being ten times worse. ”
Amiyah huffs. “And I’m sorry but are you not the Denise who does whatever the fuck she wants because she feels like doing it? Grow a pair and go get your man because I promise you someone else will.”
I arch my eyebrow, realizing that I sometimes do really hate that Amiyah knows me like the back of her hand. She knows how to get to me, how to dig under my skin, and she knows that she’s just gotten away with it because her grin widens.
I grit my teeth and turn away, snatching a pair of sneakers off the floor before swinging my door open and walking out.
“Where are you going?”
“To Lucas’s apartment,” I say as if this should be obvious, since she just gave me this whole speech that I’m pretty sure she practiced in the mirror before coming in here.
Just as I make it down the hallway and stairs and to the front door, Amiyah’s hand wraps around my wrist, keeping me in place. I turn to look at her, eyes squinted.
“What?” I ask.
Amiyah sighs, stepping closer. “I mean I know I kind of egged you on just a little but you’re going because I inspired you, right? Not just ’cause you’re trying to prove me wrong?”
I immediately shake my head. That’s actually the last thing on my mind but I don’t feel the need to tell her to her face that her whole speech actually worked on me. “No, I’m going because I…”
I like him.
I think about him all the time.
Do you think I’m too late, Amiyah?
I don’t have to say any of this out loud. Not with her. Amiyah’s expression softens, and the corner of her lips twitches up. “Is this a bad time to say I told you so?”
She drops my wrist and I pull her into a hug. My body sags against hers, arms squeezing a little too tight but I haven’t allowed myself comfort like this in months. She hugs me back like she’s needed this too.
Amiyah chuckles against my shoulder. “Go put that poor boy out of his misery.”