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Lily
Idon’t know how to behave with Theo. I’m not even sure what to call us, or if I should tell my roommates that we kissed. If Anika were here, I’d have replayed every word for her. She knew her brother—and me—and would have given the best advice.
I felt like an idiot with the coffee. I needed something to do with my hands.
No.
I needed something to do that would involve my hand and his, a reason for us to interact, a chance to touch. I was about to give up but then the train ride happened. Our touch was chaste and innocent and somehow secretive, but still out in the world, existing. Kissing him is like exploring an ocean. Holding his hand is like finding a pearl at the sea’s floor.
My hope that things would pick up where we left them off were dashed when he stayed at his desk for lunch. And now, that same train that was full of hope this morning is stifling and dead inside, filled with zombies—at least two of them—on our trip home.
“You were busy today, huh?” This is my second attempt at small talk.
Theo glances up from his phone. He took the seat across from me, despite the open one beside me.
“Yeah. It’s not fun work.” His eyes drift back to his screen. He’s thumbing through photos, liking the ones of girls at our school. It feels very much like he’s putting on a show.
“I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could make a group trip to the mall. I might not hate shopping so bad if it’s less about the trying on clothes part and more about hanging out with . . .friends?”
His head wobbles and he looks up with an arched brow.
“Since when do you like hanging out with people?” He holds my gaze for a breath, and I wait for the sign in his eyes to indicate he’s kidding with me. But his glare remains slightly cold and harsh. His edge is back. That place he lives where it’s impossible to tell whether he’s being cruel or nice or . . . honest.
I’m so taken aback that my mouth simply opens and snaps shuts. When he looks back to his phone and likes a photo of some girls from the Catholic school two towns over, I laugh to myself and cross my arms over my chest as I slump back in my seat. Tongue held between my molars, the tip pushes the inside of my cheek to quiet the tempest heating my chest.
Like Theo, I pull my phone out for some anger scrolling. It only makes me more annoyed, though, because every picture I pass already has a heart by it from him.
“I wish you never kissed me,” I mutter under my breath.
That gets his attention. I don’t have to look up to know he’s staring at me. Ifeelit. My face warms from his glare. The faint click of his phone screen going to sleep tames my angry blood. The boil is still there, though.
One more tiny push.
Without acknowledging him, I sift through my contacts until I land on James. I wish I had his picture attached to his profile so I could make an even bigger show of what I’m about to do. Lifting my phone up to block my face, I sit up straight and roll my shoulders—for no other reason than the fact that Morgan’s sweater makes my boobs look big. A slight shift to the side lets me get a quick glance in, and I smirk when I confirm Theo is watching.
“Are you . . . taking a selfie?” His tone mocks me, but I ignore it, clicking with the filter Morgan always tells me to use in place.Damn, she’s right. Every picture looks good with this thing on.
“I’m chatting with James. He’s on his way back to campus, too.” That’s a lie. I have no clue where James is, but clearly neither does Theo because his eyes are studying me hard as if scanning for bullshit.
I send my pic to James with a friendly hello, hoping he’ll write back quickly. When he sends a photo of him smiling from the passenger seat of some car, I let go of the breath I’m holding and lay my phone flat on my thigh so Theo can see whatever he feels like spying on.
“Why are you doing that?” Theo asks.
I laugh out once as I continue typing to James. I needed to text him to set up our study session anyhow. I’m simply embellishing the process to make a spiteful show out of it.
“Messaging my friend about our study session? Uh, because I’m a free woman and I can chat with whomever I want.” I purse my lips and level him with a death stare as my finger hits send on my latest message.
Theo’s head tilts slightly and his nostrils flare with his exhale.
“I mean, why are you trying to be, I don’t know, mean about it?”
My phone buzzes on my lap with James’ return note and I puff out another short laugh.
“I’m not the one being mean, Theo.” I hold his stare for several long seconds until the train crawls to the first stop and we lose half of the passengers. The car is empty, minus a handful of students who finished their internships at the same time we did.
It’s easier to be emboldened around strangers. The people sharing our space all know too many details. They have their versions of our stories that they like. Whatever’s happening between Theo and me right now isn’t a part of their world. It’s barely a part of ours.
Intimacy doesn’t seem to be a barrier for Theo, however. When I look up as the train begins to move, I catch his eyes on me again. Or perhaps he never looked away. Whatever expressions I’ve made in the last thirty seconds must have amused him, though. His smirk is a stain on his lips.
