“I’m sorry,” I say, hoping to diffuse the situation. Normally my response would be to clam up and ignore the person next to me. Find something to tinker with or just look away. But with Hadley, for some reason I hate knowing that I’ve upset her and I don’t even know her. It’s not like I’ll see her after tonight.
“It’s okay. I’m sure that is what a lot of people think of celebrities.” She turns back, gracing me once again with her beauty. “But no, Ryan, it wasn’t a line. I don’t show emotion because a lot of people want to take advantage of that weakness. I’ve never done a lot of the things I’ve done tonight.”
“Like what?” I’m asking purely out of curiosity.
“Like throw a party so I could get to know someone.” Hadley adjusts so her leg is touching my fingers again. They twitch when her skin touches mine. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything. I swallow hard.
“Is that what you did tonight?”
Hadley nods, leaning closer. “I wanted to talk to you away from everyone else. Earlier, you were in the corner and we were pressed for time, so I decided to have this party. The only problem is I only wanted to invite you, but that would’ve looked awkward. Would you have come?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Why not?”
I run my hand through the back of my hair. I’m not really sure how to answer her without hurting her feelings. “I came here with Dylan.” This is the answer I give her, which is apparently the wrong one because we’re no longer touching.
“I didn’t realize Dylan was your girlfriend. I thought she said she was your friend.”
I move closer, determined to keep touching her. “She’s my best friend, but we aren’t dating or anything like that. I don’t have a girlfriend, never have.”
I wish I hadn’t said that because the look on her face is definitely one of pity. Her eyes study me, likely curious as to why I would say something stupid like that. I turn away, only to have her fingertips pull my chin toward her. I should’ve told her that I haven’t found anyone interesting enough to spend time with aside from Dylan and she’s the only one because she made the effort. The rest of the girls just look at you, wondering if you’re going to be the one that they end up with after a prom night mishap.
“I don’t care that you’ve never had a girlfriend.”
I have to turn away so she doesn’t see me blush. She laughs quietly, which in turn makes me laugh. For having just met her, I’m feeling like I’ve known her for years.
“Are you a good boy, Ryan, or is there a bit of bad boy hiding in there?”
This question takes me by surprise and I play with the hem of my shorts thinking about how I’m going to answer. I look at her and try not to smile, but have a feeling I’m failing terribly.
“I’m a good boy. I do as I’m told.”
“Good boys are nice.” I think she’s flirting with me, but I’m not sure. But the way her voice changed when she said that makes me think that she is. I wish I wasn’t so lost when it comes to girls.
Nice? I hope she’s not one of those girls who allow the men in her life to treat her like crap. I see the way my dad treats my mom and that’s not something I’d ever want to do.
“But there is something definitely appealing when that nice boy brings out the bad that he has buried deep inside.”
I nod and make a note of what appeals to girls if I’m ever faced with a decision on whether to be good or bad.
“Tell me, what would a dream date be like for you, staying at home or on the beach?”
I rub my hands over my shorts, wiping away the sweat. “Beach, definitely the beach. I try not to spend a lot of time at home. Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.” She says this with a smile like this is the best thing she’s ever done.
“Do you like guys who dress casual or preppy?”
“I like both. Casual is nice because it shows their relaxed side, but there’s something sexy about a guy who dresses up.” I’m curious if she likes how I dress. I’m neither casual nor smart. I’m a hand-me-down kid who can’t afford to buy jeans at a discount store. I can’t even believe she’s talking to me. Can’t she see I’m nothing?
“Okay, my turn. Do you prefer girls in sweats or dresses?”
I look at her and her long legs and know the answer. “Dresses. I like legs. I mean, if you have legs you should show them off, especially if they’re like yours. Not that I’m constantly looking at your legs. Okay, I’ll shut up now.” I can’t believe I actually said that out loud and want to internally hit myself for my inability to control my verbal filter. I turn away from her so she doesn’t see the embarrassment showing all over my face. Dylan has always said that I turn a lovely girly shade of pink when I say something stupid.
Hadley reaches out, her fingers caressing my chin. She turns my chin toward her. Her eyes are smiling, if that’s even possible. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”
I swallow and hate that she’s let go of my face. “Do you prefer singing songs or writing them?”