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Back then, I did nothing to drive him away. I never told him I had a crush on him. But Monday night, I was very clear about asking him not to talk to me again. I overreacted, as I just admitted, and I regretted the harsh words, but I didn’t give any indication of that to him. We haven’t spoken since. But he’s still here, next to me.
My phone buzzes in my lap. It’s a text from Sydney asking how it’s going. With not one but four question marks. I laugh under my breath before responding, letting her know we left the high school’s parking lot about thirty seconds ago.
This will be the first Friday night we haven’t spent together in a long time. But I associate the day of the week with Holden more than her.
I see Sydney almost every day. Aside from occasional glimpses at school, the nights Holden makes it home before I’ve fallen asleep used to be my one guarantee of time with him. My weekly hit and also my chance to show him I was just fine without his friendship.
And I am. I have Sydney, and there are plenty of girls at school I’m friendly with. That friendliness just rarely translates outside of school hours. Maybe it would if I did things that scared me more frequently.
But I miss him.
I was reminded of just how much on Monday night, when we were going to play basketball together. And when we watched the documentary.
Sydney hates sports and prefers watching comedies over anything educational. I’ve missed playing basketball and staying up late watching television shows with him. Things that I haven’t done with anyone else since middle school. The reminder was a large part of why his question about basketball upset me so much. It dredged up all the resentment from the past years of nothing but some small talk.
I’m not sure I’m brave enough to ask him what happened. I was a confused thirteen-year-old harboring a crush and couldn’t figure out if it was reciprocated or not. He kissed me and I thought it was. But then any confirmation was swiftly shut down when weeks, months,yearsof mostly silence followed.
Confusion turned into hurt. Hurt morphed into anger. And my pride kicked in. If he didn’t want to be friends, then I wasn’t going tobeghim to be. We were navigating puberty and all that comes along with early adolescence. I thought we’d drift apart and then back together.
I gave up on that happening a long time ago. Or I thought I had, at least.
I can’t figure out how we got here. Sitting side by side as two people who have barely spoken in years but know a lot about each other. Who have seen each other naked.
Holden appears to be fast asleep when I glance over at him. He’s obviously not affected by my proximity the way I can’t seem to ignore his.
The bus turns onto the highway. Fall foliage is out in full force, the trees lining the interstate boasting a broad array of red, orange, and yellow. They pass by like a watercolor as the bus picks up speed. I press play on a playlist and lean my head against the cool glass of the window. Close my eyes and try to fall asleep.
“Cassia. Cassia.Cassia!”
I blink. My eyelashes flutter, torn between sleep and waking up. The surface I’m leaning against isn’t hard and cold. Nope, it’s warm and smells like cinnamon.
Shit. Even before I open my eyes, I know what I’ll see.
Not only did I manage to fall asleep, I also traveled from leaning against the bus window to resting on Holden’s shoulder. I sit up straight, focusing on fixing my ponytail as an excuse for not looking at him.
“You kinda suck as an alarm clock,” he comments.
“Set one next time, then.”
I don’t look over, but I can feel his eyes on me. Weighing my irritation. Trying to figure out its cause.
A glance out the window reveals we’re already in the city. Miles of asphalt and multi-colored leaves have turned into skyscrapers and yellow cabs.
I play with the hem of my sweater, twisting the knitted wool.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, like it’s a secret between me and him.
I drop my hands. “Nothing.”
“It’s notnothing. If you don’t want to tell me, just say so.”
“It’s just…overwhelming, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“The city. It’s big and busy and…I don’t know. I prefer not to have people on top of me when I walk around.”
I also have some apprehension about spending the next couple of days with the senior class. But Holden knows who I hang out with. Mentioning that will only make me look like more of a loser.
