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The unidentified cramping in my tummy starts again, followed by anger. I plant my feet firmly on the ground and fold my arms. “Why don’t you walk Trixie home?”
“Why would I walk her home?” He reaches for my backpack. He always insists on carrying it, but I sidestep him. “Talia, what gives? You’re acting all weird. If I’ve done something wrong, tell me.”
Has he? No. Well, maybe.
What the heck is up with me today?
“Nothing is wrong, and I’m…” I sigh. “I’m tired and worrying about the SATs. I don’t care what you do with Trixie. Or any girl, for that matter.”
“You know I’m not interested in Trixie, right? Or…any other girl.” The red hue on his cheeks lingers, nothing to do with him sprinting to meet me. Tate is blushing.
“Why would I care?” My voice comes out all squeaky. I sound like a bitch right now, but he’s pressing so hard and I just want to get home and forget this awkward interaction.
Tate straightens. “Well, I’d care if you were interested in someone. I saw you talking to Mackenzie Peterson the other day after class.” I freeze at his defensive tone. Twist, twist, twist goes the knot in my stomach. “He said he was going to ask you out next weekend, but I told him you were busy and not interested.”
“Tate.” Mortification stains my cheeks. “Why’d you do that?”
It’s not like I want to date Mackenzie, who hasn’t learned the benefits of deodorant.
Tate’s hands fist at his sides, jaw tense. “He doesn’t deserve you. I was doing you a favor.”
“You were being a jerk.” I poke him in the chest. “Who I date isn’t your business!”
“Yes, it is!” he shouts.
“Since when?”
“Since I want to be the one to date you!”
Splat! My jaw drops, crashing to the concrete. Did he just say that? No. Tate is my best friend; he doesn’t like me that way. The entangled mess in my stomach loosens.
“Shit. That came out all wrong.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, messing up the long strands. “I had a plan.”
“A plan?” I whisper.
“Yes. Momma said you’d been yapping her ear off about some book fair, and I’d saved up enough money for two tickets. I was gonna surprise you with them.” He winces. “Then I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend. If you wanted to.”
“You’re lying.” My entire body is alight, and the tension in my stomach has completely disappeared. Instead, a deep ache forms in my chest. Not painful, just funny, like it’s beating a new tune.
Tate’s bunched-up shoulders drop, and his gaze falls to the ground. “I knew it,” he mumbles and goes to turn away.
My hand shoots out, wrapping around Tate’s wrist to stop him. He stares at where we’re connected for the longest ten seconds of my life before drifting upward. His big blue eyes sparkle under the early evening sun.
“You like me?” My voice shakes.
“Here’s me thinking it was obvious.” He exhales slowly. “Talia, I’ve liked you since the moment I knew you existed. I just didn’t think you knew I did. Then you showed up at my house looking so pretty, and I panicked. Being your friend is easy. Asking you to be more…well, I chickened out.”
I comb through every interaction we’ve ever had, searching for a clue.
Tate takes up almost every corner of my brain. We are inseparable. He’s the first person I turn to when my parents ignore me or turn nasty. He always saves me a spot on the bus. He even learned how to play “Happy Birthday” on his guitar and played it for me outside my house the morning I turned sixteen.
These are all things a friend does for a friend.
Or so I thought.
Because suddenly, I’m remembering the way he hugs me tight when angry tears spill over my cheeks. How neither of us moves away when our pinkies graze on the leather bus seats. How his smile always widens when I walk down the school steps to meet him.
How my heart drums wildly in my chest whenever he sings for me—similar to the beat it’s playing now.
