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Sydney thought for a few moments. “Sounds like she’s mad at you for distracting her from her nefarious plans and there’s not a whole lot you can do about that anger. Not your fault she finds you attractive and kissed you.”
“Wait, she finds me attractive?” I asked and Sydney stared at me.
“Obviously, Layne. When was the last time you passionately kissed someone you didn’t find attractive?”
I mean, never, but still.
“But she acts like I’m garbage. Like I’m beneath her.”
“Maybe she did that to try and put some distance between you and her feelings.”
Well, shit.
I hadn’t considered that.
“This whole thing is confusing as fuck and I don’t like it,” I said, putting my head in my hands. “Why couldn’t I just fall for a nice Arrowbridge girl and buy a Subaru and get a couple of dogs?”
“Oh Layne, you wouldn’t be happy with a local girl and a few dogs. Remember your first crush?”
I thought back to the first girl I’d ever fallen for. She’d been the prettiest girl in school, but also the meanest. “Oh.”
Sydney gave me a significant look. “Exactly.”
“So, my type is hot and mean?” I asked. “What does that say about me?”
“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Sydney said.
“Whoa, hold on here. Who’s talking about my heart? We were talking about Honor being weird.”
My heart started to race a little and I didn’t know why.
“We can’t talk about her feelings without talking about yours, Layne.”
I guess she had a point. I didn’t want to talk about my feelings. They were too tangled right now.
“Obviously she’s gorgeous, and I guess we’ve established that she’s my type, but other than that…” I trailed off, thinking.
“I mean, I guess she’s a hard worker. I can appreciate that. And she has goals, even if they’re completely weird and twisted goals. Her taste in books is excellent. She told me she feeds Lorna Rose’s chickens,” I said.
“Anything else?” Sydney asked.
“I don’t know. She’s just…” I couldn’t put Honor into neat, safe words. Partly because I hadn’t figured her out yet, and partly because words seemed inadequate for describing her.
“There it is,” Sydney said, pointing at me. “You like her. Admit it.”
I made grumbling sounds and finally rolled my eyes. “Okay, I will admit, I am intrigued by her. I’m not saying that I like her.”
Sydney sighed. “So, what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I came to talk to you,” I said, and then finished my glass of iced tea.
“I can’t tell you what to do, you know that. You wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”
Syd was right; I didn’t have a good track record of taking advice.
“Fine, what would you do? Should I make more brownies?” I’d stress-eaten the rest of the pan last night and this morning for breakfast. At this point, my body was about sixty percent slutty brownie. I was starting to get lightheaded.
“Well, I’d give her some space and then approach her in a few days in a neutral setting and ask if she wants to talk. If not, let it go. She’s got her own shit to deal with that doesn’t involve you, and she might need to work it out on her own.”
