She rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that’s not what I meant. They think we’re… we’re—“ She gestured between us, apparently either not having the words to describe what this was or not wanting to say it aloud.
“What?” I asked. “Having a lover’s spat?”
She made a disgusted face. “Don’t say that word.”
“Which one, lover or spat?”
She just glared at me, and I laughed again.
“I’m sorry,” I said, but it was clearly not genuine since the laughter was obvious in my voice. But she was clearly taking this more seriously than I was, so I tried to smother it and said in a serious voice, “I’m sorry. And if you want, tomorrow we can clarify to everybody that this was not what they thought it was.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like anybody’s gonna believe that.”
“Okay, well then we’ll…” I ran my hands over my face thinking. “We’ll just tell them that this was like a one-off date, that we’re not together, this was just like a one-time thing and it didn’t work out. We just wanted to see if we could be together because all our friends are together.”
I expected a snarky reply, but when I glanced at her, she was running her tongue over her lips like she was thinking it over. I immediately found myself tracing the movement, thinking about her lips, thinking about the way that everybody else thought I had kissed her. And yet, I still didn’t know what those lips tasted like.
“I guess that could work.”
For a moment, I thought she was talking about the kissing until I remembered that thought was only in mind, not what we were talking about. She was saying my plan was good. I wassurprised by the small wash of disappointment that overcame me even though I knew pretending was the right thing to do.
“Okay,” I said, my voice slightly strangled. “Then it’s settled. We tell everyone that this was a one-off thing.”
She looked thoughtful. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How everyone was immediately convinced of this. How they became obsessed with it so quickly.”
Now would probably be a good time to point out the fact that I had been trying to convince her of this all this time. That maybe everybody thinking we would make a good couple was a sign that we actually would make a good couple. But I knew that wasn’t where her questioning was going. I knew that wouldn’t help anything, and if anything it would only lead to another argument. So I just shrugged and said, “Yeah, weird.”
We stopped at the entrance to the girl’s dorm, where Lilah wished me a quick good night even though her mind was clearly elsewhere. I stood by the door and watched her saunter up the stairs, not stepping away until she disappeared from view. It was a shame, really, that this was all going to be over tomorrow. I wouldn’t have minded it lasting a little bit longer.
CHAPTER 7
lilah
By Monday morning,I was sure everything would be back to normal.
I stayed in my room all day Sunday, spending most of the day just watching TV with Poppy and eating food from our mini-fridge since I didn’t feel like dealing with people in the cafeteria. I was sure that by the time I walked down to breakfast before class on Monday, it would have all blown over.
I was deeply wrong.
I knew something was wrong the second I stepped into the dining hall. Usually the noise level in there was enough to give a person a headache but the moment I stepped inside, it went silent. Everywhere I looked, other students were either outright staring at me or looking at anything else in a way that told me they were trying to be subtle about staring at me through the corners of their eyes.
It wasn’t that being looked at was uncommon for me—Iwasthe younger brother of Jude Turner after all, and my roommate and my two best friends were dating popular hockey players in the grade. I could deal with people talking about me. I didn’t mind it.
But it became a little bit weird when I kept hearing my name in conjunction with Tino’s. I tried to keep my face neutral and my head turned only toward the other end of the cafeteria where I could get food, but it was hard not to look at the people whispering on either side of the aisle.
“Is that her?”
“Do you think he calls her babe?”
“Her brother’s gonna flip when he finds out.”
“Do you think the management labels are forcing them to date for publicity?”
Perfect. Just perfect.
The hum of conversation slowly swelled back up to a normal volume as I got a bowl of cereal and walked toward my usual seat at a round table with Saylor and Poppy. I did not want to come sit with them. I wanted to go back in time approximately twelve hours and not end up in a matching costume with Tino Valentine. But unfortunately, time travel hadn’t been invented yet, so I dragged myself across the room like someone heading to their own execution.
From a subtle glance around the room, I determined that the boys were nowhere around. Granted, they didn’t always come down to breakfast, but their absence right now made all of this feel so much more strange.
