Chapter 20 #2
My smile dropped. “What? You’re… here. There’s no way you’re backing out of this now.”
David shook his head. “I’m not backing out.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” His eyes lingered on a family portrait Dad commissioned one Easter. “Just talking. Meaningless small talk.”
There was no chance in hell he was telling the truth. But I let him have it due to his anxious state and the fragility of the line we were towing between fake partners and occasional flirts.
“You want a look into what’s left of my childhood?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, still distracted by the decor. “I’ll need the canon fodder for later.”
I rolled my eyes and started walking. My room was at the end of the hallway, a glorified art gallery with a full-size, four-poster bed with curtains that closed. The bed was the only thing my mom and I agreed would never be moved out of my room.
“What was it like before?” David scanned the space as if he were trying to see through some glamour.
“My boy band posters were over here.” I gestured to the wall on the right. “A shrine to a mermaid series I was obsessed over used to be there. My mounted TV was covered in rhinestones. And a couple of shag rugs overlapped each other.”
David nodded, releasing my hand as he walked toward the bay windows. Mom placed new white cushions and overstuffed brown pillows on the seat.
“I’m sure it was nice.” He sat down in the bay window seat, massaging the hand I’d grabbed.
“Do you…” I gestured to his hand and took a seat beside him, keeping a respectable two pillows in between us. “Need to wash your hands?”
“No.” David smiled, seemingly thankful as he shook his head. “I’m not… it’s unnecessary. Or at least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.”
I’m quiet, waiting for him to expound, but he continued massaging and studying my room in silence.
“Remember the dare?” I smiled and nudged my shoe gently against his. “You’re supposed to be open.”
“I think it needs at least a time parameter.” He turned back to me. “It’s not fair if I have to be open with you indefinitely.”
“Why couldn’t it be indefinite?” It was supposed to sound teasing, but there was a weight in my words.
I hoped that David would consider me as more than the person he pestered for a couple of hours before disappearing into the void.
“We talk almost every day. You’re sitting in my childhood bedroom.
We used to barter for candy in elementary school.
David, I hate to say this —you know I hate to say this— but I think we’re friends.
Not the best of friends, don’t get me wrong. But friends.”
He sighed and shook his head.
“No?” I asked, urging him to say whatever rejection he was thinking.
“We didn’t barter,” he said. “Your dad was right. I just didn’t want him to think I’d been crushing on you for that long when I hadn’t.”
I blinked. “We definitely bartered.”
“I’m allergic to chocolate, remember? But you liked Starbursts. And you wouldn’t take anything from me then without offering something in return.”
“I did like things to be even,” I agreed with a nod. Even back then, my sense of justice overshadowed the bliss of sugar highs.
“So I gave them to you for Almond Joys.”
“Why?”
“Because you liked Starbursts.” He still massaged his hand, gaze trained outside to a couple of other cars pulling into the driveway.
“Right, but that was… kind.”
He looked at me again, unamused. “I’ve always been kind to you.”
I snorted. “David, come on.”
“Fine, cordial,” he said.
“I can’t believe you took something you’re allergic to.”
“Is that open enough for you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “What did you get? From the entire exchange, what did you get?”
It had to be something. Ever since we started at Westbrooke and these dares, David had gained something from our interactions, whether it was a laugh or an ego boost.
David was quiet as he considered his response, thinking so loud that I could barely focus on the voice in my head.
“It’s not because you had a crush on me?” I asked, teasing, joking, hoping.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but no. Did you have one on me?”
I scoffed, only slightly disappointed and mostly relieved because my answer was also, “No. Not even close.”
“I can’t remember the exact reason,” he confessed. “But I know I enjoyed talking to you —if only for the reminder that we couldn’t stand each other. It was entertaining.”
I laughed. “You risked going into anaphylactic shock to talk to me because arguing was fun?”
“The candy was wrapped in plastic, so the risk was minimal,” he said.
“And worth it because sometimes you and I were on the same page. The more we interacted, the more chances we got to agree. And sometimes agreeing was just as fun as arguing. Not wanting to bite another’s head off was nice. Like now.”
“Now is nice?” I shouldn’t tease him. This was the longest we’ve gotten along in years. The first time we feel like we’re on the same team.
“To me,” David amended. “It’s nice to me.”
And there it was, a show of maturity I could have never mustered to express first. David stood in his honesty. Or maybe it was the dare talking. Either way, my heart drummed hard enough to be felt in my fingertips.
“Me too,” I said before I could rethink it. Before some weird, jeering comment spilled from my lips and pushed him away.
“I figured.” His statement should be a joke. My launching pad to something more our speed, like below-the-belt jabs or petty observations. Instead, I smiled and looked away for a second with burning cheeks as if I were some young girl whose first crush just spoke to her on the playground.
There were voices on the stairs, growing louder as the group moved closer to my room.
I could tell it was Aimee, Adam, and a couple of my cousins.
I cleared my throat and scooted away from David to put even more space between us.
David did the opposite, inching closer and resting a hand on my knee.
When my eyes widened with a question, he asked, “Trust me?”
“Maybe,” I whispered back.
“I need a yes if I’m going to continue,” he said.
“Yes,” I offered, my voice breathy. There wasn’t much of a window to overthink. And I’d be tossing and turning all night after this, frustrated at not knowing what it was that David wanted me to trust him with.
Right before my family was close enough to push the cracked door completely open, David placed his hand on my cheek.
His hand covered the bottom half of my face, so when he leaned in, it was impossible to see that his lips never touched mine.
He got close, though. The edge of his mouth hovered over mine.
He smelled of spearmint and felt like the setting sun.
“Just to sell it,” he whispered against my mouth. The movement of his lips was like fire on my skin. It was the most heart-stopping non-kiss, leaving my throat dry and body aching for the real thing. How I had experienced the real thing and lived to tell the tale, I had no idea.
As soon as the door opened, David pressed his cheek against mine for an inhale. My body was abuzz with the desire to turn my head slightly and make contact. I would never, but I could dream. I would dream, I’m sure, to the end of time. He pulled back when Aimee stumbled over her apology.
“I didn’t think…” She pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to figure out a way to retrace everyone’s steps, go back in time, and knock. “Sorry, that was rude of us. We didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“The door’s supposed to be open. All the way.
” Adam made a show of pushing the door wide enough so the hall was in full view.
Two of my cousins were giggling with one another.
They were young enough to swoon over David openly and without shame.
I smiled because they got to express what I felt on the inside.
All the fawning and sighing. At least someone could let it out.
Was this how it would have to be from now on?
Would I always have to suppress what I felt about David, no matter what that feeling was, to appear nonchalant?
First, it was my disdain. Now, it was my attraction.
The switch—though nicer—was frustrating to contain.
And all for what? To one-up him? To pretend he didn’t affect me when he had been doing just that for almost a decade.
“Sorry.” David took his time putting a bit of space between us. But he didn’t remove his hand from my knee. “That was my fault.”
David supposedly closed the door, made out with me, and took the blame for a broken rule. He even sounded a little breathless from the kissing and the embarrassment of being caught. Talk about selling. And my siblings were buying.
Adam frowned, growing more protective by the second. Aimee and our younger cousins sighed, excited to see me finally with someone after Ren.
“Dinner’s ready,” Aimee said, gesturing over her shoulder. “Yara, you’ve graduated from the kids’ table this year.”
“All it took was a football-playing boyfriend. I’ll take it.
” I brushed at my skirt and stood up as if I weren’t lightheaded and craving the feel of David against me.
David only partially satisfied my desire when he placed his hand on the small of my back as we followed everyone out of the room and downstairs.
“I’m Adam,” my brother introduced once we were at the bottom of the staircase.
“David. Your buddy Xavier used to be my mentor back when I was in grade seven.”
“I remember.” Adam nodded. “He said you were hard to get along with.”
I attempted to make eye contact with Adam, but he promptly ignored me.
“I am.” David nodded. “It’s one of the things I’m working on.”
“Good,” Adam said. “I’m sure the list is long now that you’re with Yara.”
“Adam,” I said, not waiting for eye contact this time. “Relax.”
“Just being honest. If he wants an Every, he’ll have to learn how to be with one.”
I shook my head. “Stop it. David’s more than capable of being with an Every. Whatever that means.”
It was the first time I was protective of him.
Underneath David’s smile was a host of nerves and a need to impress a house full of strangers who would spread gossip to the rest of our not-so-nice small town.
He didn’t deserve that. His people weren’t here to defend him and shout his praises.
So I would have to do that for him. It wasn’t the fake girlfriend in me that was motivated; it was the part of me that’d spent every weeknight and weekend with him.
It was the part of me who texted him before I went to bed and when I woke up, who was saved by him at the beach and coached by him on the football field.
I wanted to back up the guy who gently chided whenever he caught me picking at my hair and kept it secret.
David never made me feel like I was broken for doing it.
The least I could do was present a united front.
“Just being with one Every, though, right?” Adam asked, unconvinced. “Because hopping around isn’t cute.”
Adam hated the idea of Ren and Rose. The beginning of their relationship caused a rift in the family that lasted a couple of months.
It was the longest we’d all been on awkward terms with one another.
But I was quick to forgive, and it made little sense for Adam to continue to carry the grudge if it had nothing to do with him.
“She’s the only person I’m interested in,” David promised, his hand still on my back, tracing small circles on my spine. “Every or not.”
Adam smiled, not convinced but at least amused. “Nice answer. I guess time will tell.”
My brother patted David roughly on the shoulder and gently pinched my cheek before starting into the dining room.
“Sorry about him.” I turned to David and busied my hands with straightening his collar. “He’s trying to make up for my parents being lax. And the whole Ren thing. He’s firmly on my side —if there were sides. There shouldn’t be sides.”
“But sometimes there are, and I get it.” David placed his hands underneath my elbows as I continued to fidget. It shouldn’t feel this natural being this close to him. “I like him.”
I smiled, surprised and pleased. “He just chewed you out for no reason.”
“He’s looking out for you,” David whispered as a few more of my family passed us to go into the dining room. The table was set with everything, spanning from a meat lover’s dream to a vegan oasis. Mom made it her mission to ensure everyone had a well-rounded meal while under her roof.
“I like that,” David said. “You deserve that.”
I stopped fidgeting and rested my hands on his shoulders. He felt solid underneath me. Steady and stable. My mind wandered to all the times David had looked out for me on campus, even though I’d pulled away every time.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when I paused for a beat too long.
I frowned and pulled away from him. “Nothing. Let’s… get in there. If we do this right, you won’t ever have to come to one of these things again.”
“Let’s do it right then.” He was supposed to sound ready, excited to get this over with.
Instead, David didn’t move a muscle, lingering in the hall as if to stall for time.
Maybe he wasn’t moving because, like me, his mind was stuck back upstairs, playing our non-kiss on repeat.
Maybe he wasn’t moving because this hadn’t been hell on earth.
We haven’t been one another’s worst nightmare.
In fact, we’ve become a glimpse of a dream.
“What’s wrong?” I’m the one who asked this time. And once again, he beat me in the category of maturity.
“I think you know what,” he said, voice low and steady.
I swallowed and shook my head.
“It’s different.” He looked down at me. “Us being here. All this pretending… Yara, it isn’t hard.”
My chest burned, and his confession was a soothing salve. “Isn’t it?”
David frowned, but was steadfast in his honesty and openness. “No, not for me.”