Green’s mouth is agape.
“I. Give. A shit. About you.”
“Y─”
“Deal with it.”
I leave her there with the open-mouthed, shock and awe look on her face to think about what I just said. Meanwhile, back on my side of the Chevelle, I’m still trying to figure out where this all came from.
Green still hasn’t moved when I pull the door open and fall into the seat. Not gonna lie, I’m scared shitless. I haven’t felt like this about someone since fifth grade when I thought I was gonna marry my P.E. teacher.
However, I’m eerily okay with what just happened.
My head rests against the seat. All I can do at this point is breathe.
Namaste, motherfuckers.
Two to four minutes later, maybe ten, I’m still waiting for Green to get in. I glance over to make sure she’s still next to the car.
Seriously, what is there to ponder out there?
When she finally pulls the door open and slides in next to me, she sits face forward.
For a long while, we just stay like that, but when the back of my neck itches, I have to fucking say something. I see her lips twitch and turn up into a content smile. Like she just won some battle she’s been fighting for a long damn time.
“You called me Emma.” She says it quietly, and almost like she’s questioning whether I said it or not.
Personally, I hadn’t even fucking noticed.
Regardless, what’s the big deal?
“It’s your name, isn’t it?”
Her hand stretches over to mine and she squeezes.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Stiles.”
And that’s that.
“Well, all right then.” I start up the car and pull out into traffic. Just like any other fucking day of the year.
THE END, for now.