Not that I care. I just want to change the subject. I’m thinking about Chay too much. I don’t need to talk about him too.
The group ate lunch together like always, but Chay didn’t show. He wasn’t around the rest of the day. I didn’t know exactly how I felt about that. Probably because I didn’t know how I felt about him. No one had ever stirred the emotions he had in me—good or bad. When I was happy, I was beyond deliriously happy. But when I was mad? It didn’t even register on the Richter scale. But there was confusion and disappointment swimming in there, too. They muddied the water even more, until I didn’t know what I felt. I just knew I didn’t like being mad at him because I didn’t like being away from him. It felt… wrong.
Just before I climbed into bed that night, my phone vibrated. I pushed the button to read the text.
Chay: Can we talk?
Me: Now?
Chay: Yeah.
“Ugh, call me,” I said as I typed. My finger hovered over the send button. I didn’t really want to talk with him. Instead of hitting send, I deleted the message.
Me: No.
I put my phone on my nightstand. When it vibrated again, I didn’t look at it.
Why… why… why am I so stubborn? I want to talk to him. So why didn’t I say yes?
***
Four weeks until my birthday.
I was supposed to ride to school with Muriel that morning. It was Tuesday, and we had swim practice that afternoon. I loved to swim. I loved the water, the feel of slicing through it as I did my laps. And I was looking forward to the physical exertion. It was a great stress reliever.
I walked through the door on my way to Muriel’s and stopped midstride with one hand on the bannister, one foot on the first step, and the other behind me still on the porch. I stared at it.
What’s it doing here?
A bright yellow Camaro that reminded me of Bumblebee from Transformers sat in my driveway. Chay’s car. He wasn’t inside it. In fact, I didn’t see him anywhere.
I started across the street when I saw Muriel, sitting in the driver’s seat of her car with the window rolled down, talking to Chay. She laughed at something he said, rolled up the window, and backed out of her driveway.
“Muriel!” I called after her as she drove away.
Either Muriel forgot I was riding with her or Chay convinced her to leave me behind. Either way, they’re both gonna pay. Painfully… slowly.
“Want a ride?” Chay called as he sauntered across the street. A small grin pulled at his lips.
“No.”
Not when I’m being coerced. I’ll take my own car.
“Looks like you need one.”
“I can drive myself.”
“C’mon, Milayna. Let me give you a ride. If you drive, I’ll follow you anyway. You can’t be alone, remember?”
I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I reached for the handle. He beat me, opening the door for me. I could smell his cologne and feel his warm breath skim the side of my neck as I slid onto the passenger seat. A little shiver passed through me.
He climbed into the car and turned his body to face me. “Milayna, I’m sorry I was such an ass at the hospital. Are you gonna stay mad at me forever?”
“We don’t have time for this, Chay. I don’t want to be late.”
In other words, please just drive so I can get out of here.
“For chemistry?” He snorted. “You probably don’t even want to go after yesterday—”
“What about chemistry? And if I’m not supposed to be alone, why did you skip class and leave me there by myself?” I glared at him.
“I was around.”
“Around. Good, that makes me feel so much better. You were around. Great, Chay. You have about two seconds to start driving, or I’m getting out and driving myself.” I turned my head and looked out of the side window. The sky was gray with ugly clouds swirling and blotting out the sun. My mood was just as ugly.
“You’re impossible to deal with. I’m trying to apologize.”
“And I told you Sunday your apology was accepted. So drop it.”
His hands dropped on the steering wheel. “Then I’m confused. What’s the problem?”
I’m falling for you, and I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me.
I sighed and looked at him. “There’s no problem. Let’s just go.”
“Fine.” He threw the car into gear and hit the gas a little too hard.
“Fine,” I repeated with the same amount of sarcasm he used.
We drove to school in silence. It was a long, awkward, uncomfortable silence. I rolled the hem of my shirt around my fingers and looked out of the side window, watching buildings and other cars pass, but not really seeing them. Chay drummed his thumb against the steering wheel, his eyes super-glued to the front window.
When we got to school and Chay pulled into a parking spot, I was out of the car before he put it in park. I hitched my bag over my shoulder and hoofed it toward the building.
He quickly caught up and walked next to me. We were about halfway from Chay’s car to the school when he reached out and took my hand, threading his fingers between mine. I jerked my hand away and glared at him.