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"Right! I forgot to tell you," I say, almost too enthusiastically, trying to make this not so awkward anymore. But I'm failing. "I got a ninety-one. So thank you."
"You knew it," he says, looking proud. "You just needed to learn it with your eyes open."
I laugh.
"How was the bev cart with Rhett?" I ask Ashton.
"That boy doesn't have an off-switch," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I'm half tempted to set him up with Sophia."
"You know Sophia, right Grant?" I ask, watching for a reaction. Not sure which one I'm hoping for though.
"Yeah, uh, I tutored her last summer in biology. Nice girl. But yeah, she does have a tendency to talk a lot when she's nervous." No reaction, at all.
"She's really sweet, though a bit ... neurotic," I say. "But she's pretty. And she has the coolest colored eyes."
Grant looks at me, questioning.
I hear Ashton groan and say under her breath, "Please stop."
"I think she likes you. Maybe you--"
"Foods up!" Stefan calls from the backyard.
"I'm starving!" Ashton exclaims, pulling me off the chair. I look over my shoulder. Grant is still seated, watching me leave with a confounded expression. He may even look a little ... hurt.
What did I just do? That's not how that was supposed to go. I was supposed to be reminding him of his options. Let him know that other girls are interested in him. But instead, it sounded like I was trying to set him up.
"I think I get it," Ashton says, loading her plate with ... everything.
"Are you high?" I ask, thinking maybe she has the munchies.
"Not yet. I just like food." She licks the smudge of potato salad from her thumb. She does a quick scan to make sure no one's within earshot before leaning in to whisper. "You like him."
Then she struts off. I close my eyes and groan before following after her.
"Try to deny it," she challenges when I sit next to her on the porch swing--that's on the porch and not in the middle of a weird birch tree forest.
I stab the fruit salad like I'm trying to kill it before stuffing it in my mouth. I'm really regretting telling her about my curse right now.
"You can't," she taunts. "Because you do. I see you, Lana. It's what I do, and I know what you're trying to do. But you're not actually being you. You're being a cold, bitchy girl who I'd like to smack upside the head. There are way too many cold and bitchy girls at Blackwood during the school year, you'll see. I don't need my closest friend to be one of them."
I do what I do best and remain silent. I want to react, but she just said a lot, and I can't defend or verbally acknowledge most of it. And some of it, I'm not sure I even understand.
"It's okay to like him, Lana. He's a nice guy. And although you're not the nicest person all of the time, he still likes you."
I whip my head toward her in offense. But end up sighing, because she's right. I know this better than anyone because ... well, she is talking about me.
"And just because you like him, it doesn't mean you're going to fall in love with him. That's what you're afraid of, for whatever twisted reason--that probably has to do with your mother. So just have fun. Be not with him ... but with him." She hesitates and tilts her head like she just confused herself. I know I'm confused.
"I'm your closest friend?"
She laughs. "You're a skilled deflector, huh?" She sets down her plate and hugs me. "Fine. No more like-talk. And yes, you are my closest friend. I can trust you because you are who you are when you're not possessed by a demon."
I laugh. "Thanks, I think. And I know I've been off. I'm too in my head. So, thanks for not smacking me ... again."
I stand to throw my plate away. Grant intercepts me on my way back to Ashton. "Do you have a second?"
"Squirt-gun fight!" Squirrel hollers, carrying a bucket filled with long, white and orange plastic guns.
