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I turn to my best friend, a confident grin smacked across my face, but the backup I anticipated never comes.
She caves. “Well, it’s not not true.”
“Really, Morg? You too?” I wince.
“It’s just… he’s always so nice to you. Smiling at you in the halls, sparking conversations. I’ve always thought there might be something there.”
Traitor.
“See? Even your friend agrees.” Will gestures to Morgan. “You should give him a chance. He could loosen you up a bit.”
“Excuse me?” I’m offended.
“You know… make you less controlling.”
“I’m not controlling!”
Will wrestles a smile but doesn’t argue, reaching for the glue stick sitting in the center of the table to re-attach a word that keeps falling off his tree.
I can’t help myself.
“Don’t. Use the hot glue. Works a lot better.”
He stops moving, sharp blue eyes finding mine. It takes me a solid second to realize what I just did.
“See?” he smirks. “Controlling.”
“Shut up,” I grumble.
Butthurt, I keep to myself for the rest of the class. Will reports for duty as designated clown and takes it upon himself to make Morgan and Luke laugh until the bell rings. And I don’t mean a “small chuckle”—I mean “I’m choking. Someone help.”
As for me, I’m just wondering how I could be so dumb to think for a single second that we could ever get along.
I take it back…
William Martins and I are never going be friends.
Kassidy
“Thanks for coming in, Kassidy. We’ll call you.” Jenny, Luke’s aunt’s employee, holds out her hand to me, which I shake clumsily. She isn’t much older than me, a few years at most. Shaking hands with someone your age will never not be weird.
Once I’ve said my goodbyes, I exit the pet store, squealing to myself. It’s been a while since Luke offered to get me an interview, and I was so eager for an update, I ended up asking his friend for his number so I could text him first.
Control freak. Will’s mocking voice pops into my head.
Shut up, brain.
Luke and I have been texting here and there. We’ve barely scrat
ched the surface, going from hello, to how are you, to what are you doing. It’s not flirting, but it’s something. I’m starting to think Will might be right about Luke liking me. I’m just not ready to ask myself if I like him.
A quick drive later, I’m unlocking the front door to my house and groaning at my stomach’s cry for help. I’m starving—haven’t eaten all day. I was too nervous for my interview.
Absentmindedly, I pour myself some cereal and hop on one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. My phone screen lights up with a new message ten minutes later.
It’s Luke.
Luke: How’d it go?
