She waggled her brows with that, turning to press onto her tiptoes and reach for something on top of her fridge just before my fury made an appearance. I tried my best to school it before she turned around, tea kettle in her hand.
“Want some?” she asked.
I think I nodded. Or maybe I shook my head. I couldn’t be sure, because I was rounding into the kitchen with one thing on my mind. “So, wait, you’re just going to go over to his place and hang out?”
“Yes.”
I blinked. “You realize what that means, right?”
“Yes,” she said on a grin, almost like she was exhausted. “That’s what I was trying to say. I mean… what if he wants to… you know.”
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
“You don’t have to move fast.”
“What if I want to?”
The words shot from her lips, all smiles gone as she pursed them and leaned a hip against the stove. She folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin a bit as I stared back at her.
“I’m ready,” she said. “I’ve been ready. I want it.”
My eyelids fluttered at hearing those words from her, desperation surging over me.
“I want to know what it feels like, what all of it feels like,” she whispered, her eyes falling to rest somewhere on the ground between us. She smiled, dazed, and then looked at me again. “Especially after the previews you’ve given me.”
She said it as a joke, even punctuating it with a little laugh as she took the kettle to the sink and filled it with water before setting it on the stove top and flicking on the burner.
“I just need to know what to wear. I mean, I want to be casual, comfortable, but also cute. Like, I know what to wear to a dinner date, but what do you wear when you’re just going to someone’s dorm?”
She bit her lip, and then rambled on, something about maybe she could wear her gray joggers and a tank top, something that would show her cleavage. Or maybe I made that part up. Maybe I was driving myself mad with my worst nightmare, with imagining Shawn peeling those sweatpants off her the way I had the first night she’d let me touch her.
I blacked out as she continued talking, not registering a word of it. My entire plan blew up in a nuclear fashion right before my eyes.
I was too late.
I’d missed my one shot to tell her how I felt.
Just two nights ago, she was naked and clinging to me, kissing me desperately, begging for me.
Now, I knew I’d never touch her again.
Shawn had seen his opportunity, and he’d made his move.
Then again, if she’d so willingly agreed, did I really ever have a shot with her in the first place? Was it all really fake to her, void of feelings?
Was I just a friend in her eyes?
Thought after thought pummeled me like relentless waves crashing against a jagged shoreline until it was too much to bear the weight of. Between my father, my mother, Maliyah, and now this? I couldn’t swim anymore. I couldn’t fight to keep my head above water.
So, I took one last breath, one last longing look at Giana as she lit up talking about what her date would be like with another man.
Then, I let myself sink down to the bottom, and I sat there, vision blurring through the salty water, slowly drowning, but not struggling to save myself.
This whole thing had been my plan, my idea.
And now, I had no choice but to lie in the watery bed I’d made.
Giana
The week dragged by like dead weight in quicksand, each day seeming to last longer than the one before it.
Even though I felt like I’d extended an olive branch and cleared the awkward air between me and Clay after the whole sorry I walked out on you naked, here are some flowers debacle, he was still acting weird. Or maybe he was just focused on the upcoming game against the number two seed in our conference. Or maybe he was spending all his time with Maliyah. I had no way of knowing, because other than him stopping by my apartment on Sunday, I hadn’t heard from him.
I didn’t know what we were doing, didn’t know if we were just letting the fake thing between us slowly fizzle out, or if we were unintentionally planting seeds for our fake breakup. Riley asked me about what was going on halfway through the week, but I just shrugged, told her things were fine and tried to seal the lie with a convincing smile.
Meanwhile, Shawn had been blowing up my phone, texting me first thing in the morning and well into the night. He texted me funny memes, interesting news articles, songs that he wanted to know if I’d heard before, and even pictures of him throughout various sections of his day. The only time his name wasn’t on my phone screen was when he was in class or at a gig, and I marveled at how I’d gone from being invisible to him, to feeling like I was the center of his attention.
And I liked it.
I liked that he was thinking of me, and that he was making an effort to let me know that he was. I liked that he called me things like beautiful and said good morning, gorgeous every single day.
Still, something was off, something deep inside me that I couldn’t put my finger on — not directly, anyway.
I was in a book funk, unable to read more than a page or two before I’d huff and close the book, shelving it in an attempt to try another one. Even my tried and true favorites to re-read weren’t doing the trick, and so I spent whatever time I wasn’t in class or at the stadium lying on my bed and staring up at my ceiling.
I talked to my sisters and brothers on a group sibling video call, listening to them catch me up on their lives as I was silent as usual. Only Laura asked me how my job was, one time, and after a short but satisfying answer for them, the conversation shifted back to our brothers’ current business venture.
Eventually, Friday came, and though they weren’t the familiar ones I remembered when I was trying to pick out an outfit for that night Clay took me to see Shawn play downtown, I still had butterflies as I dressed in my joggers and a tank top. I styled my hair to make it look like I hadn’t tried, applying light makeup and throwing on an oversized hoodie before I walked the few blocks to Shawn’s place.
He lived a little off campus just like I did, though his building was newer, with a lobby that had a twenty-four-seven attendant at the desk. She called Shawn when I arrived, getting his approval before letting me into the bank of elevators and pushing the number for his floor.
My stomach twisted as the numbers ticked higher and higher, and then I stepped out into the hallway, immediately seeing Shawn standing in his open doorway at the end of it.
Those strange butterflies fluttered into a tizzy at the sight of him.
He leaned against the frame, arms and ankles crossed casually as he watched me walk every step of the way toward him. He didn’t hide his gaze as it traveled the length of me, and I couldn’t hide the blush that warmed my cheeks at his unyielding stare.
“Hey,” he said easily when I was close, and then he pushed off from where he’d been leaning and wrapped me in a tight hug.
That hug was warm and cozy, like we’d known each other for years, like he was welcoming home a long-time friend he’d missed dreadfully. He smelled of some sort of herb, patchouli, maybe. He offered me a lazy smile when he pulled back, his eyes sort of glossed as he held out a hand to usher me inside.
“I hope you don’t mind takeout,” he said when he shut the door behind us. “I was too exhausted to cook anything.”