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“Maybe we should head out,” Vance says after a while, the tension in his voice has dialed down tremendously.
“It was so nice to meet you,” Ava tells me, her parting smile, warm, and infectious.
“It was nice to meet you too,” I reply, peeking over at Vance for half a second. His lips are pressed into a hard line. Obviously, he isn’t going to say goodbye.
I guess we aren’t friends yet?
“I’ll talk to you guys later,” Clark sends them off, showing them to the door. A few seconds later he returns to sit next to me on the couch and I can’t help but notice how tense he is. I want to ask him what he and Vance talked about, but I don’t want to seem nosy or intrude. Still, I feel the need to be a friend to him, especially after all he’s done for me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighs, leaning back against the cushions, an arm draped over his face. “I just wish Vance wouldn’t have been such an asshole.”
I pull my legs up underneath me, and sink deeper into the plush fabric. “Well, you did warn me. Ava is nice though, you think she really wants to get some coffee with me?” I’ve been on the receiving end of hate for so long that I can’t tell if people are being genuine or not anymore. Maybe she just said it to be nice? Or because she’s friends with Clark? I really hope not because I would love to have her as a friend.
“Yes, she really does, or she wouldn’t have asked. Ava isn’t fake like a lot of other people around here, neither is Vance for that matter, and that’s why they’re my best friends. Both of them are the, what you see is what you get kind of people. Vance might be a dickhead sometimes, well I mean all the time, but he is a brutally honest and loyal to a T dickhead.”
“That’s good, those are the best kind of friends to have…” I trail off.
I don’t know Vance’s story, and I won’t judge him, but I do hope he warms up to me. His standoffish behavior makes me nervous. When I look up from my lap, I find Clark staring at me, an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint flickers in his warm gaze.
Nibbling on my bottom lip nervously I opened my mouth to ask the question that’s been nagging at me since the words left his mouth earlier.
“Why did you tell them that I was your girlfriend?”
“Honestly… I don’t really know why I said it… but it didn’t feel like a lie. I mean, I know you’re not my girlfriend, not in the traditional scene of the word, but you are something to me. I guess I didn’t know what else to call you and friend seemed not enough.”
I’m speechless, literally speechless. What am I going to say to that? Are we more than friends? And if so, what does that mean?
When I don’t say anything, Clark continues, “I guess after what happened in the grocery store, I didn’t want anyone to come at you like that again. Maybe it would be better if everybody thinks you are my girlfriend.”
I let the thought sink in. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. I’ve only ever been on the outside, looking in, watching other couples kissing, holding hands… being happy.
I can’t lie and say I’ve never wished for that kind of thing for myself, of course I never thought I could have it. No one wants someone like me, someone broken, afraid of touch, startled by the tiniest of things. I bite at the inside of my cheek, an anxious knot forming in my chest. I still don’t understand why Clark wants me the way he does, why he’s being so nice, so caring.
Could I pretend to be his girlfriend? I’m already holding his hand most of the day, just for other reasons than the average couple, I guess. I feel safe and happy when I’m with him, so I could spend all my time with him.
But what if he wants to kiss me? Would he? Would I let him? I don’t know. There are so many unknowns surrounding us.
Then I remember what his friends said about Clark, what Sarah said… Clark is going to want more than a kiss and I don’t think I could manage that. I could never give that part of myself to him no matter how much I want to, no matter who he is. Something tells me this is a bad idea, heartbreak waiting to happen, but curiosity wins out, because deep down I want to explore something even if it’s fake.
“If you tell everybody I’m your girlfriend, then how are you going to be able to date other girls?” I don’t mean to offend him with my question, but apparently I do because a deep scowl appears on his face his eyebrows pulling down together. The gentle light in his eyes darkens, and I shiver at the coldness that bristles through me.
