“No, I didn’t.”I totally did. It’s the weed. It has to be.
“You did.”
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes. If I’m going to deny it, I have to play the part, so I add, “Your name has too many syllables.”
“It hastwo,” he says back, his voice sounding both shocked and humorous.
“Yeah. Two too many,” is the best response I can come up with.
I notice our hands are still connected, my hand pressing against his chest that still hasn’t stopped racing. He doesn’t make a move to stop the contact and neither do I. I feel like he needs this more than I do. His dark green eyes still haven’t left mine as he lets out a forced breath.
“I think it’s you,” he says.
“What?”
“That’s why my heart is racing. It’s because of you.”
I let out a short laugh. “Really? What could I possibly be doing that’s making your heart speed up?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Just existing.”
I must be panting like a dog now because I swear I can’t breathe normally. It shouldn’t feel like this: electric. He squeezes my hand, his eyes not leaving mine. The motion is so simple and noncommittal, but it sends a strange pang ofsomethingthrough me.What the hell is he doing and why am I letting him?“Scar?”
Oh, fuck. Not that nickname. Anything but that nickname right now. It’s still so new coming from him and now this?Come on, Branson. You’re making things really fucking difficult.
“Hm,” is all I can say.
“I’m scared.” I catch the exact moment the vulnerability takes over. I’ve always known Evan’s not an evil person. He’s just hard to deal with and annoying. He’s stuck up and he can be rude when he doesn’t mean to, but he’s not evil. How could he be with the way he’s looking at me now? All I see is a scared boy with great big green eyes, searching for a harbour.
“Don’t be,” I say as comfortingly as I can.
“Oh wow. You’re being really helpful right now,” he argues sarcastically. I knew that it wouldn’t last very long.
“And you’re being really fucking dramatic,” I say.
“No need to shout,” he whispers seriously.
“I’m not shouting!”
Okay.
Maybe I am shouting.Whyam I shouting though? Maybe it’s the unnecessary proximity. Maybe it’s the way he lasted five minutes without being an asshole. Maybe it’s the fact that he used my nickname, and Iaccidentallyused his. Maybe it’s everything going on with my family and our little moment escaping. Maybe it’s just everything.
Breaking my hand away from his, I stand up, brushing myself off as I say, “Get up. We need to go.”
* * *
Evan is in no state to do anything other than eat junk food and sleep. I’m still pissed at him, but I’m enough of a decent human that I walk him to his house only a few blocks away from my apartment. He sulks most of the way and I follow suit, not bothering to have a conversation with him like that.
When we get to his house, Wren and Miles are in the living room, snuggled together watching the end ofTangled.Sometimes I question the Gods and how they managed to put two people so perfect for each other in the same place. Wren’s in one of Miles’ hockey jerseys and leggings, lying on top of him like a koala while he’s shirtless like always.
As Evan stumbles in, I shut the door behind us, blocking out some of the cold. He kicks off his shoes at the door, rounding the sofa to walk into the kitchen.
“Scarlett gave me some dodgy weed, so I’m going to sit in my room and contemplate life,” Evan complains from the kitchen.
“I did not,” I argue back. I take a seat across from Wren and Miles, laughing as I roll my eyes. Wren climbs off her boyfriend, nodding at me as she sits to the side of him instead, placing her feet in his lap. He immediately wraps his hands around her ankles, massaging them without a word. “Evan just couldn’t handle it. I had the same amount as him and I feelfine.”
Evan moves into the living room now, a water bottle in his hand as he stands behind them on the sofa. “That’s because you’re an insane person.”
