Part 24 (1/2)
I grab my bag and open the door, trying to ignore him. But ignoring Gray Porter is like ignoring an elephant in a tutu. A really hot elephant-in a very manly tutu.
Of course I have to look. Especially when I've denied myself the sight of him for days. He's perfect in his brown cargo shorts, sporting the black Star Wars tee Mr. Foley gave us last week as a bonus. I pull my cardigan tightly closed over my middle. No need for him to notice that we're wearing matching s.h.i.+rts.
The s.e.xy smell of limes is coming off his damp hair in waves right now. I never noticed limes before Gray Porter. And now, when we're in the supermarket I sniff them like a psycho and then put them back. It's a shock how often limes are on TV too. They're everywhere. My favorite burrito shop even uses fresh lime juice to make the salt stick to their hand fried tortilla chips. UGH. I used to be able to resist eating more than a few, but lately, I've become a lime-chip-aholic.
”Did you get enough sleep?” he asks.
”Because it's easy to nap when I'm being stared at?” I snap. ”Why are you here?”
”Jess...”
I meet his hurt, way too intense gaze. I'm unable to hold it for long. It's been only seconds and he's already got my defenses malfunctioning on every level.
I solidify my expression to flat. Bored. Dead.
He sighs. ”I wouldn't have to hunt you down if you'd text me back. I've called every night at seven. And left messages, every other hour. Why won't you talk to me?”
”The contract states you must text and call me. There's nothing in there about reciprocating.”
”That's why?”
I stare at him unblinking.
”G.o.d. You're serious.” He crosses his arms and glares. He's standing so close I feel heat radiating off him. Heat I've craved like an addict after being wrapped in his arms the other night. I pull a Red Bull out of my bag and pop the top right under his nose. Thankfully, he takes the hint and steps back.
”I can't believe you're sulking around the parking lot like this,” I cover. My heart rushes into my throat because I've made the mistake of looking into his eyes. I chase it away by gulping down the remainder of the Red Bull. No matter how fast he makes my heart race, I'm not going to fall for his magic this time. ”I-you-said we were late. I need to get inside.”
”I do too. But-I miss you. Can we please have lunch today? Get Mr. Foley to transfer you back to LightSticks and the DigiToyTech stuff. I know we can work this out.” He gently grabs my arm and turns me to face him.
”No,” I say, pulling away from his grip to start walking again. He follows. ”Gray, no hard feelings about me skating on the tradeshow project. I want to be in s.h.i.+pping. I'm here to learn. As for lunch, I can't. Thursday is the department's monthly meeting. All staff members are required to attend. They give us free food.”
”Whatever. You're probably making that up.”
”Not. They're going to preview a new box-taping machine. The thing is awesome. Tapes over 400 multi-sized boxes per hour. Mr. Foley's asked me to run the training slideshow. I've been memorizing the bullet points.”
”Tomorrow, then. Noon. I know Foley gave you the afternoon off. Meet me in our office, if you can remember where that is. Back hall, first closet on the right. Your desk is the one squished up next to mine. Face to face.” His voice sounds half angry, half accusing. ”We'll talk. I'll bring sandwiches. Say yes.”
”I said, no! Why can't you get the message through your head? I can't be around you.”
”Why? Why are you treating me like this?! G.o.d, do you p.i.s.s me off,” he shouts.
I turn my expression to stone but it's almost impossible to hold. My brain is firing off different versions of what I'll say next to make him understand me permanently; but he jogs in front of me forcing me to stop again.
He grabs onto my hands.
I glance at his sneakers-not his face. Too dangerous. I'm panicking because my mind has been wiped clean by the simple feel of his palms against mine. I love that feeling.
”You're being unfair. You owe me at least the respect to hear what I have to say,” he says. His voice is gentle...and low and rumbling. Zero anger.
d.a.m.n him and that voice and his hands.
I want to scream ”foul” or ”off sides” or any sports call that could make him stop weaving his way so easily into my soul. I try to regroup, but...his hands are so gentle on mine. I move my gaze to his fingers, and let my mask drop away.
”You're blisters are almost healed.”
”Yeah.” His thumbs traverse the back of my palms. I should let go, but I simply don't want to. I glance at his face. Any remaining defenses I'd stockpiled against him fold under the absolute anguish and confusion I see in his eyes. I've caused this. I've hurt him, and he's right. I do owe him at least some sort of explanation for why I pushed him so far over a cliff. I s.h.i.+ver. Could I simply tell him the truth about myself? If he knows all, he'll understand my permanent limitations.
”Tomorrow.” I nod. ”Twelve noon. I'll really listen. But you have to promise to listen to me right back. Even if you don't like what you hear, you need to hear me back. Deal?”
”Okay. I will. I will.” He smiles and the dimple flashes. The relief in his voice makes his eyes seem over-bright as though he's feverish, or holding back tears.
But that's impossible because I'm the one doing that. I feel like a floating puff of mist. One so fragile and light, that if this boy blinks, I could easily disappear-be lost forever. But I know it's too late. I've been lost since the day he smashed his backpack into my car.
Stupid love. Stupid color green.
Why does Gray have the power to make me feel like this when I'm intelligent enough to know it's all a mirage? I wonder if this feeling will crush me when the summer's over. When I'm not allowed to hold his hands anymore.
When he walks past me in the hallways with his real girlfriend next year.
Will we smile and laugh about our secrets? Or will I die because I have to breathe his same air? I work my hands out of his, and together we walk inside. It's impossible to recover my back off mask, so I don't even try. ”Um. Thanks. For...you know...finding me. I'm glad I'll get the chance to explain better. What happened at your house-all I said that night. I'm sure I wasn't making any sense.”
Gray lets me pa.s.s in front of him through the lobby. ”Jess, I'm the one who needs to explain. Everything. Why I've been acting like a complete weirdo around you. I tried to give you s.p.a.ce. Do what you wanted, but I can't. I know we can be friends. And-well, I think, I hope, you might want that-”
I b.u.mp him shoulder to shoulder to shut him up.
His whispered words have wreaked havoc along the back of my neck. I'm covered in goose-b.u.mps. Worse, uncontrollably blus.h.i.+ng like mad.
The GeekStuff.com receptionist has overheard Gray's indecipherable cl.u.s.ter of words. She's giving us this knowing smirk. Can't blame her, as we'd been holding hands for a really long time out there. I flush even more. ”I uh...gotta go.”
Gray, looking more fl.u.s.tered and awkward than I've ever seen him shakes his head. ”Right. I'm an idiot. Tomorrow.”
His voice follows me down the hallway. ”When I text you tonight will you answer? Please?”
I don't look back. If I see his face I'll change my mind. I have to be strong. He'll understand where I'm coming from, eventually. Maybe we can be friends after this is all over like he says. But not until he knows the truth about me.
”No.”
Chapter Twenty-Six.
Jess ”Jess!” Dad's voice trails up the stairs. ”I need some kitchen help.”
I head out of my room and meet Kika in the hallway hauling a full laundry basket along with her. ”Any idea why Dad sounds extra industrious? What did you see down there? Is it bad?” I ask.
”He's making that marinade sauce for the meat from scratch this time. The chili meat? For the burgers on Sunday?” Kika arches her brow and blocks my progress by turning the laundry basket to the side.
I pretend to ignore her attempt to block me and try to squeeze past her, keeping my voice light. ”Oh. I should have known! He wants me to chop the onions.” I force a smile but my heart has turned to weighted stones. Dad always makes his special super tenderized meat before a big BBQ. He makes it when he wants to impress someone. That someone is supposed to be my boyfriend, one Corey Nash. To be delivered in person in three days time.