I’m turning my car off when Colter pulls up next to me. I lean my head back onto the headrest for a minute to compose myself. Is he going to try and kiss me again now that we’re alone?
A knock sounds on my window and makes me jump, jamming my head into the ceiling. The wind whips the flaps of his coat around while he smiles at me under that dirty baseball cap. I roll my eyes, push open my door, and slide out of my seat. He moves closer to me and I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me, but he just gives me a wry smile, grabs my hand and begins pulling me toward Pat City. It’s so cold I regret not wearing gloves, but the feel of his hand in mine makes me forget I even wanted them in the first place.
“Do they have everything we need?” he asks, opening the door for me.
“Just the general stuff. I’ve already ordered the other stuff off that eighties website I told you about.”
“Cool.”
“So, this brother of yours . . . he hasn’t said a word in those meetings we’ve had. Is he a wallflower like his big brother?” I tease.
“Yeah, he’s a bit shy. Actually, there’s this girl he likes. A lot. And he wants to ask her to the dance, but he’s not sure how to do it.”
“And his big brother can’t coach him? I’m sure he’s asked many a girl to many a dance in his day.”
“His brother’s shy when it comes to girls he really likes.” He flips his hair in his face, like he doesn’t want to look at me. He grabs a cart and begins pushing it down the aisle.
I feel the blush creep into my cheeks before I can figure out if he’s talking about me. Is it arrogant to think I’m one of the girls he really likes? He did kiss me. But I’m still convinced it’s because he wants to save me, not because he likes me. Why are boys so confusing?
I spot some hot pink plastic cups and pile fifty packs into the cart. “I can’t ever imagine you shy. What do you mean, girls he really likes?”
“No, you don’t; we’re talking about Atticus.” He grabs some white plates and holds them up to me. I shake my head, grab the neon blue ones and hold them up. He grabs fifty packs of the neon blue ones and shoves them into the cart. It’s almost full.
“I have to get another cart. This is going to be filled before we’re done.” I grab another cart, thinking. Colter’s kissed a lot of girls. A lot. It must be my imagination that he’s talking about me. Why do I care? I shouldn’t care about this. It’s stupid of me to even entertain the notion of him. I roll the cart down the aisle of name-tag packs, goofy-looking glasses, and costumes. By the time I make it back to him, he’s picked white silverware and napkins.
“Tom Sawyer. Color, not white.” I roll my eyes and chuckle, then start to take the white packs out of the cart and replace them with neon ones.
“Dude, kids don’t give a shit what color they are.”
“Yes, they do. It’s an eighties theme.” I fling a package of white plates at his chest like a Frisbee. “White’s boring.”
He grabs the plates before they fall to the ground, giving me a playful evil glare. He raises the package in the air and fakes like he’s throwing them at me. I duck in anticipation, giggling and hiding behind the cart. He moves to chase me around the cart, holding the white plates in the air like a weapon.
“Hey, guys,” a female voice says from behind me. We freeze, my hands on the cart, and Colter holding the plates in the air. “I can make it after all, isn’t that great?” It’s Kirstyn.
I groan. I hate having to play nice with her, but the alternative is exhausting.
Colter replaces the package of plates on the shelf and gives me a sheepish look. “Hey, K. We’re just getting plates and stuff.”
“Great. I hope they have colors. I hate white.”
I laugh a little. “They do now,” I tease, looking right at Colter.
He grins at our inside joke and my body warms quickly in response.
Kirstyn giggles and shuts off all the warmth that entered my body. “Oh, Colt, you should leave this stuff up to us girls. We know colors better. Guys are more colorblind. It’s a fact.”
I cringe at her high-pitched voice. Hey K, go away. Ugh.
Colter shrugs it off and we continue filling the carts. We finish on a civil note on all parts and pay at the front.
The wind has picked up and I’m getting swept away with each step I take. Kirstyn, Colter, and I make it to our cars and stand awkwardly, each one of us waiting for someone to make a move.
I grab my keys out of my purse, shove the bags in the back seat, and start to get into my car when Colter grabs my arm lightly. “Don’t go yet,” he whispers out of earshot of Kirstyn. I crane my neck to look around the hood of my car at Kirstyn. She’s searching the area, probably for Colter. He leaves me and finds her. I try to read their lips. Their heads are bowed together and he’s pointing at something down the street. She smiles wide while he rocks back on his heels.
An intense anger and longing races through my body. I’m jealous? That’s not good.