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Without a second thought, he responds, “Yeah, a little.”
I bite my inner lip, feeling bad I didn’t realize he felt this way. “I’m sorry. How come you didn’t tell me?”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me a little closer. “I didn’t want to come off as a dick. On one hand, he’s my quarterback and was injured while throwing the ball to me. On the other hand, you’re my girl, and he’s your ex.” He sighs. “I see both sides.” He looks into my eyes. “But, yes, knowing you’ve been with him when you should have been with me doesn’t sit all too well with me.”
“But I’m with you now.” I kiss him softly.
“That you are. But you’re taking care of him.”
I lean back ever so slightly. “But you said you understood.”
“Understanding and liking are two different things.” He pauses as he looks off to nowhere, obviously choosing his words carefully. “I’m not going to tell you that you can’t help him. But, yeah, you should know that it bothers me that you’re with him all the time.”
I unwrap my arms from his shoulders. “You can trust me. Nothing’s going on. He’s in a wheelchair, for goodness’ sake.”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “I seem to remember wanting and pretty much having you first, and then you took off in the blink of an eye once he showed interest in you.”
I stand up, almost knocking the person next to us over. “What did you just say?”
He reaches for my hand, and I yank it away from him, so he lets out a sigh and holds his hands up in defense.
“Hey, you asked me questions, and I answered them honestly. Don’t get upset if you don’t like what I am saying. I’ll always be honest with you.”
“What, and I’m not?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then, what did you mean?”
He stands up, towering over me. “If you remember correctly, I’ve been in love with you since our freshman year. I thought we were talking—pretty much fucking dating—and then I heard you two had hooked up. How do you think that made me feel?”
Everyone stops and looks at us.
I’m speechless and frozen where I stand as I stare into his green eyes that are so full of love, hurt, and insecurity, and it kills me.
When I don’t respond, he realizes everyone is focusing on us and turns to leave the lunch area.
I don’t follow him.
* * *
After school, I head to Aaron’s house to check on him since his mom is at work.
“Hey, you,” I say after knocking and opening the door at the same time.
“Come on in,” Aaron says as he positions himself better on the couch.
I hold up a folder for him. “I brought your homework.”
I’ve been bringing his assignments to and from school, so he can stay current in all his classes.
“Yay,” he says so unenthusiastically that I can’t help but laugh.
“It’s not much; don’t worry.” I place it on the coffee table and pick up his lunch that’s still sitting there, dried up in the bowl, and walk it to the kitchen. I run water over it to soften before I wash it for real.
“Thank you,” he yells from the living room.
I return to where he is and sit on the couch with a huff.
