“Okay,” he says after a few minutes of me arguing with myself. “I guess we can paint our faces.”
I lift a brow. “And you’re not going to be embarrassed to walk around like that?”
“Will you?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t, either.”
I just stare after him as he walks in the direction of the face painting booth. He’s so…ugh, I really wish I knew what goes on in that head of his.
He turns around. “Coming?”
Like my legs are charged with energy, I’m at his side in an instant and we make our way to the booth. Like usual, there’s a line of kids with their parents, but I don’t mind and it seems like Ryan doesn’t, either.
We’re just standing there, him looking around and me looking at him. The place is crazy loud with all the kids shouting, so even if I wanted to say something to him, I’m not sure he’d hear it.
“Ryan!” a voice calls over the others. Whirling around, I catch Brianne Crawford strutting our way. She’s wearing heels that look painful and her hair and clothes are perfect as usual.
She pushes her way to Ryan, knocking me back like I don’t exist.
Clutching tightly onto his arm, she bends close to whisper in his ear. Her pretty hair falls down his face, just like it did in the cafeteria last week.
“Excuse me,” I say. “The line is that way.” I point with my thumb to the crowd gathered behind me.
She hardly looks my way. “Come, Ryan,” she says in a smooth voice. “You don’t really want to get your face painted, do you?” She tugs him. “I’ll show you where the fun activities are.”
He pulls away from her hold. “I’m good here.”
Brianne stares at him. So do I. He continues to gaze ahead as if she’s not standing there. I can feel her shock shifting to anger as she watches him. Then her eyes move to me and her features harden. She forces a smile, flips her hair over her shoulder, and stalks off.
“Wow,” I say as I watch her form grow smaller and smaller. She meets up with her friends, and they huddle together, probably talking about what happened. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
He lifts a brow.
“She’s Brianne Crawford,” I point out.
“So?”
“Well, she’s pretty and popular and all the guys are into her.”
He doesn’t say anything as we move up the line. We’re closer, but it’ll be a while until it’s our turn.
“I mean, the guys at school would do anything to just have a conversation with her,” I continue. “Clearly she’s into you.”
“So?”
I search his face. Is he really that clueless? “So if Brianne Crawford is into you, you jump at the opportunity.”
His eyes slowly move to me. “So I have to go out with her because she might be into me?”
I’m about to answer, when a kid behind us yells to his friend at the front, and plows through the crowd. I’m hurled into Ryan, my face smashing into his chest. A buzz of electricity zaps all over me, like it did at the dance.
I recoil like I touched a pot of boiling water. Was that static again? “Sorry.”
Gosh, he smells even better up close. Like soap and laundry detergent and guy. And his shirt is so soft, like a cloud.
Ryan slides his hands into his pockets. “No prob.”
