Hold My Breath(33)

“You know, the fact that it’s so easy for me to call you a * sorta points to a bigger problem, perhaps.” My friend shoots me a sideways glance as she delivers her dig, then takes one of the chip bags off the conveyer belt and hands it to our now-mortified grocery man. “Scan these real quick, pops. I’m starving.”

“You are too much. I see why I’m your only friend,” I say, rolling my eyes and tapping my credit card against the pay machine.

Holly laughs with a full mouth.

“Yet you keep coming back, babe,” she says.

“I know, I know…which probably points to a bigger problem, yeah, yeah,” I say, squeezing the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes tight.

We finish buying my week’s-worth of protein bars and super fruits, and my friend’s sack of junk food, then climb back into her Jeep to head to the Swim Club for a few hours of workouts. Needling one another is just our way, and I can tell Holly misses my company just as much as I do hers. She could have just turned around and headed back to the apartment we used to share near campus, but instead, she asked if I needed any help. What she meant was company, but Holly and I don’t like using words like that—words that denote love and attachment. Even for our friendship, and even though we both feel it.

I don’t use those words because I’m afraid anyone I say them to will be marked for a tragic death. Holly doesn’t because she was raised in the foster system and doesn’t believe real love exists. Together, we’re a pretty cynical duo. This is also why neither of us has a lot of friends. But we do have each other.

Holly pulls into the Swim Club lot, and I know she’s parked next to Will’s car on purpose. Just seeing it brings a rush of heat over me, one that starts at my thighs and slides up my body until it leaves my lips with a tingling sensation. I can still feel him—feel our mistake.

“You two seemed to be getting along really well the other night,” she says.

I shrug, avoiding her eye contact and lifting my two grocery bags from her back seat, trying not to engage. I think I’ve gotten away with it, too, and then bam!

“So, has he always been in love with you? Or is that a new thing?”

Her question knocks the air from my lungs, and my steps stutter as I round the back of her Jeep. I know my eyes are wide. I know my lips are tight. I can feel it.

“Right, so…new thing then, huh?” she adds, smirking.

I pinch my brow and suck in a short burst of a laugh, acting, then keep walking to the main lobby.

Preposterous. Impossible. Ridiculous. Ludicrous. I’m saying that and a dozen other similar words with the expression I give her. Meanwhile, though, I can’t say that I haven’t asked myself the same question. Yesterday’s kiss was not something that happens because of a place or circumstances. I may suck at romance, but I know when a kiss is more than physical attraction and hormones, and Will’s touch was almost forbidden—a scent of longing traced on my body everywhere he’d been.

I wanted it.

I walk straight through the lobby to the small kitchen and shove my two bags into the little space left in the fridge around my dad’s cases of water and energy drinks. I hear my friend crunching behind me, and I turn to see she’s brought her bag of chips in with her along with a neuroscience book.

“You sure you can get your studying done out here?” I ask, leading her to the back door, and eventually the deck. Funny how I missed her, but now I kinda wish she’d go home, and take her blunt honesty with her.

“Yeah, I can study anywhere. Besides, I’m sorta hoping Will’s gonna show up, and then I can get a real case study out of this thing,” she says, popping a whole chip in her mouth and wrapping her lips around it slowly, grinning at me as she chews.

I stare at her while I slide out of my shorts, shaking my head and not understanding.

“Ya know, cuz you’re probably going to have a nervous breakdown and all, from him being so in love with you,” she says, laughing out bits of chip through the last few words.

I bend down and scoop up a handful of water and fling it at her, causing her to flee to a chair.

“I’m pretty sure you’re going to fail your neuroscience labs,” I say, turning my back on her and moving to my favorite lane to stretch and splash water on my legs and arms.

“I know that’s not how neuroscience works, Maddy,” she says, her tone full of sarcasm. “I was just making a clever play on words. You don’t need to be such a *.”

“Stop calling me *!” I shout, this time kicking water at her, the sprinkles pelting the spine of her book as she shields herself with it.

“Quit being one,” she says, sticking her tongue out at me then shoveling more chips into her mouth, crumbs literally falling everywhere.

“You’re like Cookie Monster,” I say.

“Yeah, well Will Hollister’s in love with you,” she says.

I jerk my head to face her, glowering, which only makes her laugh harder, spilling more crumbs on her chest. The only way to escape her barrage is to dive under water, so I go in cold, and my muscles pay for it for several strokes. Eventually, my body warms up and my movement becomes steady. No matter how fast I swim, though, I can’t seem to outpace my friend’s words. They invade my head, probably because a part of me was starting to let the same thoughts unravel.