“Which one? The ones with the kids in library? Or the kids traipsing through a set of booby-trapped caves? Or the kids skipping school? It’s always kids doingsomething.” Thallor cocked his head to the side before looking to me for reassurance.
“Ouch,” I scowled at Esme, who thwacked me in the arm a little too enthusiastically.
“You fucking like him!”
“Oh God.” I was so red, I was sure I made Thallor’s hair look blonde. I wanted to curl up and die, but all I could do was stumble over my words as I tried desperately to get them out. The feelings I had yet to confront on my own, let alone in front of Thallor and worse in front of Esme, tangled themselves up in my brain until I could barely think straight. I felt like I had short-circuited as I fought to gain control of the situation and my jittering heart. If there was ever a time for the world to swallow me whole,now would be the time.
“The Breakfast Club is a cult classic,” are the only words I managed to string together. Thallor was watching me with an intensity that made my insides weak and my skin prickle. I squeezed my legs together, and for a moment, it was like Thallor’s eyes went black before he cleared his throat and shifted his attention back to Esme.
“Tell me, Thallor,” Esme smirked at him, but he didn’t seem remotely ruffled by her interrogation. “Are you theJohn Benderto ourClaire?”
I watched Thallor closely, looking for a thousand answers in a pause or maybe a look or a furrowed brow. In all the reverie that had faded in after my embarrassment had subsided, I could see the flicker of something more serious in Thallor. It was as if the question had struck a chord deep within him. One thatmaybe he hadn’t expected–or maybe he just didn’t get the reference I wasn’t.
Slowly but surely, a grin tore across his face as if he was relishing his answer. Esme hadn’t even waited until he had answered before she was hitting me again, hanging on the sincerity of his smile. And maybe I was too. I don’t know what I expected from his answer. I just knew that I wanted it to be yes at the end of it all.
“Hmm,” he mulled over his question as if he didn’t already have the answer. But I could see it in the smile and the way he let his eyes graze over me, stopping at the blush on my cheeks and my teeth that bit my bottom lip. “I often think about what it would be like to be locked in a broom closet with her.”
All I could hear in the background as I proceeded to pick up my jaw off the floor–again–was the distant sound of Esme squealing.Holy shit. This is not happening. This is not happening.If I repeated those words enough, I could will it into existence, right?
“I’d definitely stand outside this apartment with a boom box for you, Sterling.” Thallor smirked.
“This is not happening,” I let slip my mantra as I squeaked and pulled my jumper over my face.
“Quincey, babe, how many have you made him watch?” Esme laughed next to me.
“We could ride off into the sunset together on the back of a lawn mower.”
Esme erupted into laughter again, doubling over in her chair. Even Thallor couldn’t stifle his chuckle this time as they both looked at where I had retreated into the sofa.
I groaned again, but this time it was half-laughing, half-surrendering. “You said you likedCan’t Buy Me Love!”
Thallor leaned back and watched me, eyes locked on mine. Esme was red with laughter and off in her own delighted world.The tinge of crimson on her face was no match for the embarrassed flush that erupted across mine. I felt like Thallor was peering into my soul, looking for the same answers I’d been looking for in him. If he thought he’d find protest or indignation, he was wrong. I tried to fight the tug at the corner of my lips in response to his challenge and failed. And saw my grin mirrored back at me. To him, my delight was like buried treasure. It felt like he would have traipsed the roughest waters and all the seven seas in search of my smile.
Esme shriek became louder as she looked at me. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”
“I promise there was nothing to tell. You’re reading into this too much.” I rolled my eyes at her because it was all I could do to respond—all I could do to try to convince myself that my feelings weren’t real.
She raised an eyebrow at me. “Am I? Because it’s kind of hard not to when you two basically act like…that.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Where humiliation painted my face, laughter had painted Esme’s in the same shades of magenta and red. Suffering her onslaught of questions had been nothing short of painful, but as she left my apartment, distracted and feeling a little lighter than I had seen her in weeks, I couldn’t help but feel like it had all been worth it. That I had done my job as a dutiful friend, filling her broken heart with giggles and smiles that she could use as thread to start piecing herself back together.
I dropped onto the sofa a little while later with a bowl of Froot Loops, feeling clearer than I ever had before about my feelings and entirely confused with what to do them. It felt like one of fate’s cruel, twisted jokes–a girl who always dissociates from her emotions finally gets a grasp on them, only for no clear and satisfactory outcome. A smile, and a bag of gummy worms in tow, Thallor and Mortimer settled next to me, glancing at the blank television.
“Is this one of those rare occurrences where you let me choose the film?”
“I let you choose all the time,” I scowled. “I can’t help it if you always put on something I’ve recommended.”
“Are you going to recommend a movie for us now?”
Thallor cocked his head to the side and smirked at me. I tried desperately to ignore the way my heart stumbled over itself as I looked up at him. “No,” I grumbled.
“Is it because of what Esme said earlier?”
Has she shown you any of her favourite films yet? That’s when you know you’ve got her heart.
“No,” I whispered, but the word came out half-hearted. Barely there.
