Josh and Hazel's Guide to Not Dating(60)

“I think we both know that’s bull.”

She nods. “I know. But it’s a feeling.”

“And even if it were true, it doesn’t have to be Tyler,” I remind her.

She turns back to me again, and her gaze drags across my mouth. “No. It doesn’t have to be Tyler.”





TWENTY


HAZEL


We’re quiet during the first few songs of the Metallica set. In fact, we’re so quiet, I wonder whether Josh has fallen asleep beside me. I’ve been people-watching, but neither of us has been paying any particular attention to the actual show. When I peek at him, I see that he’s awake, and just staring thoughtfully up at the sky.

“Don’t ask me what I’m thinking,” he says, grinning over at me when he sees me looking at him.

“I wasn’t going to!”

“You totally were.”

He’s right. I was. I lie down on my side and prop my head on my hand to study him. This is the perfect light for photographs: muted but bright, with vibrant green all around us. I’m tempted to pull my phone out of my bag and take a picture of his profile. I love the smooth, straight line of his nose, the powerful curve of his cheekbones, the geometry of his jawline.

“You’re staring.”

I love your face, I think. I tap his temple with my index finger. “I just like knowing what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

He shrugs, and adjusts his hands where they’re crossed over his stomach. “I was wondering what Sasha packed in the lunch basket.”

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“I will be eventually, and was thinking I might want to figure out where the hot dogs are instead.”

Laughing, I push up and crawl over him to peek. “She’s got apples, celery with peanut butter, and what looks like some sort of wheat berry salad. No sandwiches or like … food.”

He doesn’t respond to this at all, and given that he’s craving a hot dog, I’m pretty sure he’ll find no satisfaction in this basket. I look down at him from where I’m propped on all fours, and realize that he’s staring directly down my shirt.

“Are you looking at my boobs?”

His eyes move from my chest to my face, and instead of wisecracking or making a joke about how he forgot to bring tape and staples to keep my shirt on later when I’m drinking beer, he just closes his eyes and sighs.

It looks like defeat, or frustration, or something similar to the uncomfortable yearning that’s pressing tight against my breastbone. It feels like there’s a pile of bricks on my chest. I want to bend down and just put my mouth on his.

With a tiny whimper, I imagine the relief of that, of kissing him outside, of how he might slide his hands to my face, cupping me and holding me there. For some reason, I don’t think he’d turn away. I stare down at Josh, with his eyes closed, and imagine straddling him, feeling him tense beneath me, teasing him where we can’t do anything about it.

Those are boyfriend things. These are girlfriend feelings.

I’m Josh’s girlfriend, whether he wants me or not.

I curl back up next to him. “Josh.”

Slowly, so slowly, he opens his eyes and turns his head to see me. “Yeah?”

Voices rise and I look up to see Sasha and Tyler stomping toward our blankets, grinning, sweaty, breathless. They tumble down beside us, chests heaving.

The quiet intimacy between Josh and me dissolves into a mist.

“Holy shit,” Tyler says. “That was epic.”

A tiny ripple of guilt works its way through me. I wasn’t paying any attention to the band, even though I knew how excited Tyler was to see them. I feel like I’m doing everything just a tiny bit wrong today.

I sit up and lean over to squeeze his hand, impulsively. “I’m so glad you had a good time down there.”

Josh pushes to stand. “I’m going to get a beer. Anyone else want something? Tyler? Beer?”

“I don’t drink,” Tyler reminds him.

Josh barks out a laughing “Okay” before turning.

Sasha follows him, and he doesn’t even look at me before he’s marching down the small hill toward the bank of vendor booths to the right of the stage.

“Can I ask you something?” Tyler says, sitting up.

Unease swirls in my belly. “Sure.”

“Did you and Josh ever …?”

“Ever what?”

“Date?”

“Each other?”

He nods, and I shift, reasoning that it’s not exactly a lie. “No. We never dated each other.”

“It sometimes seems like there’s more going on with you two.”

And honestly, the only way to avoid this conversation is to stand when System of a Down comes on, and pretend I am very, very excited to hear all of their songs that I’m not even sure I know. I close my eyes, and for just fifteen minutes, I try to push out all of these emotions.

I dance away the feeling that I’m trying to talk myself into being attracted to Tyler.

I dance away the feeling that I’m in love with Josh, and am prolonging his rejection because I know it will slaughter me.

I dance away the feeling that I’m putting way too much of my energy into this, when I should be just enjoying my day, and the air, and the music.