The urge to check and see if he’s still watching me fizzles in my chest, and I try my best to avoid it, but it's no use. I glance back behind me, eager to find his eyes on me again but he and the rest of the table is gone. Part of me feels relief, the other part is deflated. But I don’t think about it too much. I’ve already been over analyzing every word and glance and move lately, and I really need to get a dang grip.
“He was probably a little confused because you only responded to his message with a heart and didn’t text him all weekend,” Ryen says after finishing the last bite of her pizza.“He probably thinks you’re losing interest. Either that or he was totally checking you out, Cadie."
I roll my eyes as she takes a strand of my hair between her fingers and twirls it. “To tell you the truth…” she trails off as she drops my curls and stands from her seat. “Something changed in you over summer. I can’t put my finger on it but maybe I’m not the only one who sees it.”
I ignore the latter of her observations as I focus on the former.Losing interest?He doesn't even know that I have interest in the first place, right? Unless I’ve been way more obvious than I thought.
I watch as my best friend gathers our trays and walks them to the trash.
Something changed in me over summer?I don't see it. I don't feel it. I mean, I had my seventeenth birthday last month, but I don't really feel different because of that. And I haven't done anything to change my appearance. Ryen tried to get me to get a tattoo with her—her grandma got her an early birthday gift because she turns eighteen next month—but there was no way I was going through with that. I don't think I'm the kind of girl who would look good with a tattoo. Not like Ryen.
She's the kind of girl who can pull nearly everything off; the kind of pretty that is damn near intoxicating. Her bright blue eyes are accentuated by her midnight black hair; her eyelashes just as dark so her lighter features come across ethereal almost.She's like the moon; the midnight sky made up of smokey amber and wilted rose. Whereas I am kind of like the sun; bright daylight accented by dancing sunflowers and ocean breeze. Her exact words, written out on a birthday card she gave me for my thirteenth birthday. She's a bit of an undercover poet, I'd say. And it’s one hundred percent the truth. So much so that her nickname for me is Persephone and, of course, I call her Hades.
For instance, today I am wearing a yellow sundress complete with my Chuck Taylor's and an oversized white, knit cardigan. Ryen is clad in dark ripped jeans, a black crop top and a blue checkered flannel hanging off one shoulder. Her hair falls straight over her shoulders and her silver nose hoop glints in the light as she walks back from the trash cans. My body is adorned by freckles while hers flaunts a choker, chunky rings and beaded bracelets. And while in looks, we are polar opposites, we are kind of similar in a lot of other ways; like our taste in music, movies, food and thinking. Except, she's more vocal about her thoughts whereas I'm more reserved.
Ryen leans over the table, palms down on the surface and lowers her eyes at me. I can see the look in her eyes; I she’s going to tell me to do something that I probably don’t want to do. And I'm stubborn, but not quite as stubborn as she is so I take a deep breath and listen.
“I've thought about it," she starts. "And you need to stop being so worried about everything and just text him, Cadie. Who cares if you come off as eager. Sometimes, that's what guys need. He obviously doesn’t mind talking to you and sure, Bray might be an issue but that's something you can worry about at a later time. You like Zach and I think he likes you. But your chance will slip away if you keep avoiding the situation. What happened to the girl on the beach chair in her purple bikini?”
I roll my eyes as I stand from the table. “That girl didn’t know what the hell she was doing. And honestly, I still don't. I’m just not sure what to say or do.”
“Be bold, Cadie. You have to learn how to have confidence around him. I mean, it's freaking Zachariah Loft. But also . . . just be yourself. I think your problem is that you’re overthinking it because you’re worried you won’t measure up.”
I sigh as we walk together back toward the locker hall. She’s right. I absolutely have been overthinking it and I know that. Iguess the reason is because I’ve had to hide the way I’ve felt for so long and now, I might actually have a real chance to make those feelings known. But I just don't know how.
“I do like knowing that it’s kind of like sneaking around. But I really do consider how Bray will take it. Zach even said as much,” I mention as we get to her locker.
I watch her as she twists the lock to initiate her combo, opening the locker before turning to me with a feigned dreadful and sarcastic look on her face.
“Your brother?” she scoffs. “The biggest player in the whole school? Yeah, he can pipe down with all that. If he loves you, he wouldn’t care. And honestly, I love your big heart and all but if what you want is Zach and Zach makes you happy, you shouldn’t care what your brother has to say either.”
“But what if Zach actually doesn’t like me and he's just being nice?”
“You ask me this a lot and the only way to find out is to askhim.” Ryen slams her locker shut and hands me my books and bag; my locker is located clear on the other side of the school so she lets me stash my stuff in hers most of the time.
We start down the hallway before she continues. “But really, would he have said what he said about Bray getting upset if he didn’t feel like he was also sneaking behind his back? That has to mean something.” She shrugs her shoulders and I have to agree with her. He does keep bringing it up and there has to be a reason why. But am I really bold enough to straight up ask him if he likes me?
“Maybe…” I trail off, letting my mind wander to all the possible reasons as to why someone like Zach would otherwise be entertaining someone like me, but I’m cut off in thought as Ryen grabs my elbow.
“Wait, what class did you say you have next?”
“Calc,” I say. “And the teacher this year is a total drag,” I add as I toss my head back gently.
“I have English with Strode. I can already tell I’m going to hate this school year.” She groans and I lift my head to chuckle at her as if I didn’t just complain about my class as well.
“It’s only the start of the second week, Ry. You can’t get all Negative Nancy on me already,” I quip and she just huffs.
I halt us, not caring that students have to suddenly reroute their path to get around us as we stop dead in the middle of the hallway.
“You cannot give me all this advice on boys and whatever but not take your own advice and apply it to school. Senior year is supposed to be fun. Remember what we said over summer? The pact we made?”
“Take what you want this year and run away with it like you robbed a bank,” she groans sarcastically and I nudge her in the upper arm with a grin across my face.
“Exactly!” I say, knowing how ridiculous the pact actually sounds.
“But that doesn't mean that I have to pretend to enjoy everything else,” she adds as we return to walking toward our classes.
“Yes, it does. How are you supposed to find your bliss when you’re already dreading everything ahead? Be bold, Ryen.Remember?” I use her own words back at her with sarcasm, and I sense her feigned annoyance.
