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“We’re going to miss the bus home,” he mentioned.
“It’s fine. We can walk. Look at me.”
His blue eyes rose, and they didn’t look as overwhelmed anymore. He was coming down from the intensity of being bombarded by people all day long.
“You’re good,” I told him.
“I’m good.” He cleared his throat and brushed his hand against the side of his face. “Can I walk you home now?”
I nodded.
He held the door open for me, and after I stepped out of the closet, he followed.
“I know you’re too nice to tell people to leave you alone, so I just want you to give me permission to throat punch anyone who crosses your boundaries,” I said.
“I don’t think throat punches are needed.”
I frowned and patted him on the back. “I know. That’s because you’re painfully sweet.”
“Are you really good friends with Carlton?” he asked me out of nowhere.
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s nice.”
“Is he? Or were you just lonely last year?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “He just rubs me the wrong way. He’s always trying too hard to win people’s approval. Do you know after lunch, he tracked me down to offer me money if I’d get him into Cara’s party? It’s weird.”
“He’s quirky.”
“There’s quirky, and then there’s desperate. He also has a crush on you.”
“What?” I laughed. “He does not.”
“Yes, he does.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because not only did he try to pay me for a party invite, but he went on and on about how he was into you.”
It almost amazed me how the idea of Carlton didn’t make my emotions do anything at all, but if Aiden’s arm brushed against mine? Butterflies. Every single butterfly.
I shook my head. “Boys don’t have crushes on me.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“Because I’m me.”
“That’s exactly why Carlton likes you. Because you’re you.”
I shrugged. “He’s not my type.”
“Oh? And what exactly is your type?”
You.
Then you.
