Lunch was the hour that had brought me the most anxiety during my first week back in Blackwater. Our school’s cafeteria was small, suffocating, and operated like the English class system. I avoided it at all costs, opting instead to explore my options. The women’s bathroom proved quiet, but smelly. The locker room was comfortable, but awkward when the junior girls had to change for P.E. Eventually, I’d stumbled upon the nature center in the back of the school and had fallen in love. None of the other students ventured out there unless they were required to go for a science class. It felt like a hidden gem that only I knew about, my own secret garden.
The school did a terrible job of maintaining it, but that made it even better. The overgrown trees and shrubs concealed me away as I traversed the short path toward the bench I’d designated as my lunch spot since the Friday before. No one knew I was out there—not Ashley or Trent—so when I heard a twig snap behind me, my heart kicked into overdrive. I froze and twisted around to find Chase standing in the clearing behind me, holding his hands up in surrender. His worn jeans and old raglan t-shirt pushed up to his elbows only seemed to enhance his harmlessness.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked before taking a hesitant step forward.
Truthfully, I didn’t want company, but he was already there, stepping toward my bench. He’d already infiltrated my secret hideout, so there was no point in pushing him back out. I shrugged and turned for the bench to take a seat.
My ears perked up as I listened to him approach. He stepped around the bench to take a seat beside me, momentarily replacing the scent of nature with his cologne. I gave myself two deep breaths before I forced myself to think of something else, like the field of wildflowers in front of me, overgrown with bright red petals.
“Second week back and you’re already breaking rules?” he asked.
I ignored him and pulled out my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Why do you eat lunch out here?” he asked, staring out at the field alongside me.
“So people like you won't talk to me,” I answered with a little smile so he’d know I wasn’t a total bitch—just enough of one.
He laughed and I fought to keep my gaze off him. “Y'know, my favorite thing about you is your charm. I don’t think you get enough credit for how charming you are.”
I chewed on my lip, trying to interpret if he was being sarcastic or not. Either way, I relented.
Tilting my head toward him, I answered, “I don’t really want to sit in the cafeteria for an hour every day.”
“But your friends are in there,” he pointed out, trying to get to the real explanation.
“Friends is a relative term,” I answered, picking up a small stick from the bench and tossing it out onto the ground.
He smirked. “Yeah, they kind of suck.”
“Eff you, those are my friends…” I said with a smirk.
I hadn't talked to any of them since Sasha’s party on Saturday. I'd avoided the stoner-tree and Trent’s texts. It felt good to have a break from pretending to like people.
“Am I your friend?”
I picked a particularly bright poppy and focused on it like my life depended on it.
“That word never really worked for you,” I admitted, feeling my heart rate quicken.
He nodded. “It wasn't enough.”
The weight of his words threatened to undo the tiny string that tied my heart together.
“Or it was too much.”
“You know, in a lot of ways, I still know you better than anyone,” he continued.
I hiked up my brows and turned to face him. His gaze was focused on the flowers, but that grin was ever present.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, curious about why he still felt connected to me after all these years. I was nothing like the girl that he’d known back then.
“I've seen you cry and laugh and throw fits. I've seen you naked,” he laughed.
I hated that I blushed when he admitted that, but I was helpless to stop the reaction.
“When I was like seven...” I reasoned, trying to point out the flaw in his thinking.
“Yeah, but I’ll bet you still have that little freckle on your left butt cheek,” he declared, turning toward me with a sly grin. I decided to play his game.
“And I’ll bet you’re still the same size down there that you were then.”
He tossed his head back and laughed, a loud, rich laugh that tugged at the corners of my mouth.
“It wasn’t that long ago that we were best friends. What changed?”
I backpedaled, scared of the guilt creeping its way up my throat. “What are you talking about? Everything changed.”
Silence fell after that and I knew I'd hurt him. I never seemed to know how to handle myself around him since my mother’s death. Instead of apologizing, I tore off half of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and held it out to him. It was an apology wedged between two slices of white bread, and he took it.
Chapter Thirty
Lilah