"Nice day," I say, trying to get his attention as we walk to the bus stop. "Almost feels like summer."
He ignores me as he texts someone.
"So was today some kind of game you were playing?" I ask. "Be nice to me, make me think we could be friends, and then turn on me?"
"We could never be friends." He shoves his phone in his pocket as we reach the bus stop.
"Are you being serious right now?" I stand in front of him. "Then what the hell have we been doing the past week?"
He stares out at the street, his arms crossed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"The talks we had. Letting me come to your house. Taking me home. Walking me to the door. None of that makes us friends?"
"You came to my house to tutor Jacob. I didn't have a choice about that. And I took you home because it was late and bad shit happens after dark. I'd do it for anyone. It doesn't make us friends."
"Good to know," I say, sarcastically. "And the talks we had? That meant nothing either, huh? I spilled my guts to you for nothing. You probably weren't even listening."
He doesn't answer.
I turn away from him, then walk a little down the street so I don't have to stand by him. I'm furious with him, and the worst part? I got that damn roller coaster feeling again when I stood in front of him just now, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes, surrounded by his musky scent. I'm still feeling it—that flutter in my belly, the tingle just below it. Like I'm at the very top of the coaster, waiting for the thrill of the drop.
My whole relationship with Dean is a roller coaster. One minute he's everything I could want in a guy, and I'm high up in the air, and the next minute he turns on me and I drop to the bottom. Up and down, up and down, and I never know when the drop's going to come. I definitely wasn't expecting it today. We were having a great time. It was turning out to be a perfect day.
I glance back at Dean and see him sitting on the bench, his thick muscular legs stretched out in front of him. He's leaned back, his arms draped over the bench. He's wearing a t-shirt that barely fits him, the fabric straining against his wide chest and massive biceps.
Look away,I tell myself as a dirty thought tries to sneak its way into my brain. One where Dean rips off my clothes, tosses me on the bed, and covers me with his hard muscular body. With a body that size, I can only imagine how big his penis is. It might not even fit.
Why is this happening? I don't have these kind of thoughts, or I didn't until just recently.
"It's here," Dean says, looking down the street at the bus heading our way.
I walk back, getting there right as the bus comes to a stop. I get on and find a seat in the back. Given how he's acting, I wouldn't be surprised if Dean didn't sit by me.
"You gonna move over?" he asks, standing by the seat.
"I didn't think you'd want to sit here," I say, scooting over. "Since we're not friends."
"It's better than sitting next to a stranger. At least you don't smell."
"Another compliment from the great Dean Sanders." I roll my eyes.
We sit there in silence, the ride taking forever because the bus keeps stopping. When we're almost at Dean's stop, I wonder if he'll tell me goodbye or just get off. I'm sure at school tomorrow he'll be back to being his usual asshole self. Why was he even trying to be nice to me? Was he trying to sleep with me? I'm guessing by now he's running out of girls to sleep with at school, making me a viable option.
The bus stops again and a girl gets on with her dad. The girl is probably 13 or 14 with long blond hair. She kind of looks like I did at that age. She's smiling and laughing at something her dad said as they take a seat two rows up. The dad puts his arm around her and kisses her head.
I don't know why seeing that stirs up so much emotion in me but it does and all of sudden I'm crying, tears streaming down my face. They're quiet tears but I can't stop them. I want what that girl has—a dad who loves her and puts his arm around her and makes her feel safe, and wanted.
"Brook?" Dean says.
I turn away from him, sniffling.
His hand wraps around my shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"
I shake my head, wanting him to leave me alone.
The bus stops and I notice we're at Dean's street. I wait for him to leave but still feel him beside me.
"Go," I tell him, keeping my back to him. "This is your stop."
