“When do you have time?”
I didn’t like the casual tone he was trying to force on me, and I didn’t know if he actually cared about the fridge being full.It felt like something he would say to pull me back in and get me comfortable around him again.
Maybe I was overthinking it, but I couldn’t shake the doubt.
I shrugged. “I have time tomorrow.”
“Okay. We can go tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I replied, nonchalantly.
A hint of amusement flashed in his eyes, and I wanted to scream at him. I hated that I was so affected by him, and that he didn’t seem to feel the same.
“Is that your essay?” He nodded to the papers in my hand.
I looked down and felt my body tensing. “Yes.” I cleared my throat and held it out to him. “I printed out an extra copy. I thought you might want to read it. Since you let me use your set for the topic and all.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, as if he was trying to find a hidden motive. Then, he slowly stepped closer to close the distance between us. He reached out, taking the papers from my hand.
“It’s only six pages. Well, it should’ve been shorter, but I had so many things to write.”
He looked down at the title page for a second before his eyes met mine again. “I’ll read it,” he told me, his voice filled with sincerity.
I just nodded and was ready to leave the kitchen again, but he decided to ask me a question I thought wasn’t nice to ask, considering the way he treated me that night. Then again, I had no right to be pissed at him when we never agreed to be more than just a fun time.
“How are you doing, Lana?”
Biting the insides of my cheeks, I watched him for a moment before shrugging and replying with, “I’m fine.”
It felt, and probably also sounded, like a lie, and he didn’t look too convinced either. But that didn’t mean he actually cared about how I felt. His eyes lingered on mine for a long while, then he nodded and lifted his hand to scratch the side of his head. His gaze dropped to the essay, and because there was nothing else coming out of him, I decided to leave.
“I’m going back upstairs,” I told him, vaguely gesturing toward the stairs.
“No, wait.” His gaze met mine again, and I froze as he took a step closer. “If you’re hungry, we can go to the grocery store now.”
I didn’t move my eyes off him as I tried to decide whether or not that was a good idea right now. I was hungry, and there was nothing in the fridge. Then again, we had already agreed on going tomorrow, so why would I change my mind about it now?
My stomach growled in protest, signaling that going another day without food would have painful consequences. I often woke up with stomach cramps, and I had gotten used to not eating three meals a day because it’s been that way since I was little, but now that I had the option to get food, it would’ve been stupid not to say yes.
“Okay. We can go now.”
“Good.” He smiled and lifted the essay. “I’ll bring this to my room to read when we come back. Are you ready to leave?”
I looked down at myself, deciding that the sweatpants and sweater combo I was wearing would do. “Yes, I’m ready.”
He told me to wait downstairs while he headed up for just a moment, and when he came back, we went out to his car and drove to the nearest grocery store.
Once we were there, I grabbed a cart and pushed it forward. Callan followed behind me with an easy, unbothered pace. He tossed random things into the cart, while I checked labels and compared prices.
We stayed quiet, and though I had nothing to say, I hated the silence.
Callan must have felt the same. I saw it in the way he watched me, like he was building up to something he wasn’t sure how to say out loud. I ignored him and kept walking, but when we stood in the snack aisle too long, he finally spoke.
“We’re cool, right?”
I frowned and looked at him even though every part of me didn’t want to. “Of course, we are.”
“Doesn’t feel like we are.” His expression was hard.
