I glanced back at Andy, Darius, and the still snoring Eddie. Darius shrugged like the information had slipped his mind. Andy’s skin turned red again. I couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed at not telling me about the group assignment sooner or if it was Naomi’s presence that made him nervous. It was probably a mixture of both.
“We should push the tables together.” She moved her hands as she spoke. Her fingers looked graceful as she pointed at the kids, giving each one a specific command. They listened to her without protest.
Chairs scratched across the tile, making a deafening sound. No matter how many times Naomi told them to carry, they still dragged.
I stopped right next to her, doing my best to stay out of the way of the kids. I noticed Naomi was scratching her arm a lot and glancing at her phone every few seconds. After the fifth arm scratch in two minutes, I forced myself to go out of my comfort zone to ask, “Is something bothering you?”
She blinked, confused. “What?”
“You seem…” Anxious? I didn’t know. The only thing I knew was she didn’t seem like herself.
“Everything’s fine.” Naomi put on her usual smile. “Once we resume, do you mind taking the lead? I’m crappy when it comes to reading comprehension—always skimmed in my English courses. I’d feel weird giving them direction when you’re sitting next to me.”
“I’m sure you’re fine.” My words were supposed to be a comfort, but they looked to cause the opposite. Her fingers scratched at her arm again. If her dress didn’t have long sleeves, her nails would’ve torn through the skin with how hard she pressed down.
“You should do it,” she insisted. “I’m better at talking. I can guide the discussions.”
“Okay.” I nodded, not wanting to press her anymore. Before I could think about it, I reached forward to cover her scratching hand with mine. The second my palm made contact, she froze. Instinctively, my fingers curled around hers. I felt like I was on autopilot. No matter how much my brain urged me to pull away, I couldn’t. Not without stopping her from clawing her skin.
“It seemed involuntary,” I explained, and when she gave me a blank look, I continued, “You were scratching, and it looked like it hurt.”
“Oh.” Her gaze was locked on me, but mine strayed to my fingers covering hers.
My mind went down a road I swore I’d leave alone. I’d spent a long time trying to forgive myself for getting hurt the night we were supposed to meet. I tried to convince myself that she’d truly forgiven me. My heart ached thinking I could have met her so long ago. If I had, I’d already know what her scratching meant. If we’d seen each other that night, I wholeheartedly believe we’d be together. Even if she didn’t want to be a couple, I’d have still wanted to be close friends. For her, I’d be someone who’d stop her from unconsciously hurting herself.
Naomi watched me, understandably perplexed at why I was still clinging to her like a man hanging on a cliff. That’s how I felt most days. I went through life just hanging on long enough, hoping someone would peer over the edge and notice. When I met her eyes again, for a second, I thought I saw recognition. Whatever I saw quickly faded when Darius made loud kissing noises and the girls started laughing.
“Get a room,” Darius teased with a wrinkled nose to exaggerate his disgust.
I released Naomi immediately. She rubbed her hand and turned away from me. For a second, I worried if I’d squeezed her too tight. I sighed, embarrassed for holding on so long.
“What did I say about respectful language?” Naomi started toward the table. She looked all business once more. “Come on, get in your seat. Let’s get started.”
Darius opened his mouth to make a few more teasing comments. I thought they were funny, but when Naomi looked pissed, I did my best to shut him down. For the remainder of the session, she didn’t look in my direction. We sat across from each other, and she didn’t glance at me once. Meanwhile, I was having a hard time looking away.
Chapter Nineteen
Naomi
Todaywasnotmyday. First, it was a nude Finn—which, okay, technically wasn’t all that bad. Now, I’d embarrassed myself by mixing up words in front of fourth graders.
Reading out loud was never my forte. Scratch that, reading period wasn’t my forte. The letters jumbled up so much I couldn’t put together full sentences without stumbling. This continued until I was almost in middle school. By that time I’d been reading at a level so far below my peers, it was alarming.
I got lucky in second grade when an assistant teacher noticed I was struggling. In school, I was excitable enough to trick my teachers. Never underestimate enthusiasm as a stalling tactic. I’ve since learned to manage my dyslexia quite well. Audiobooks, text to speech apps, are lifesavers. But managing in front of people was something I had yet to conquer.
Queue my anxiety hives.
How embarrassing. Every few months I broke out in a terrible case of hives. From years and years of struggling, I discovered it was a mix of stress and poor diet. I wasn’t conscious of any real stress since the beginning of the semester. I thought things were going well for the most part. My skin disagreed.
The hives spread across my arms like wildfire. Remaining calm felt vital yet elusive. At the height of my panic, Finn’s hand covered mine and for a moment, everything paused.
His hands were so large and heavy. His touch was like a weighted blanket, made for comfort. My heart sunk the second he pulled away. I tried to shake off the lingering warm feelings as we resumed helping the kids. Never in a million years would I have thought Finn could be capable of being so…observant? Not only observant but tender with his concern. He was worried about me just like the night I cut my finger. The emotion in his eyes looked the same. He was ready to do whatever I asked to comfort me. He was ready to lean in and press his lips to mine.
I brushed my fingers across my mouth, imagining how they’d feel. Finn spoke to the kids in a calm and steady voice as I tried to come up with a list of reasons to not want him.
Number one was, of course, Mid. I needed to settle things with him. I couldn’t give up on us, even if we were destined to be just online friends. At this point, I think that’s all Mid wanted, anyway. He hasn’t brought up voice chatting. He didn’t reference the outside world as much as he used to. Shit, did I need to move on? Was Celeste right?
As if summoned, my friend poked her head into the room and announced, “Playtime.”
