Until Cobi (Until Her/Him #7)(9)
“Fuck, you are always this stubborn. You don’t even have to say it for me to know.”
“You don’t know me, Cobi,” I point out, and his eyes darken when his name leaves my mouth, that darkness making a few parts of me light up in a way they never have before.
“I will.”
What the hell does that mean?
“I need to go to bed.” I stand, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”
“Hadley.” I walk toward the door then look at him when he says my name. “Stop, I’ll be cool. Just come sit down.”
“I’m tired.” It’s not a lie; I’m exhausted. I just don’t know that I will be able to fall asleep when I get into bed. “I’m going to bed. I appreciate you coming, but you can go now.”
“Come sit down.” It’s an order, and that sets my teeth on edge.
“Goodnight, Cobi.” I place my hand on the doorknob and start to turn it.
“I’m not leaving, Hadley. You might be too stubborn to admit you don’t want to be alone, but I know you don’t want to be. Not right now. Not after what happened last night.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
He smirks. “Come sit down.”
“You need to leave.” I open the door, but he still doesn’t move; his muscles don’t even twitch as he stares at me.
“I’m not leaving, baby, and although you look adorable in that robe, I doubt you want the image of you in it to be all over the news tomorrow,” he points out. I look outside then slam the door when I see there are two news vans parked on the street. God, I really hope they didn’t see me in what I’m wearing. I hear Cobi laugh, and my teeth grind together as I glare at him. “Come sit down.”
“Is it normal for a police officer to show up at someone’s house and then refuse to leave when they are asked to… repeatedly?”
“You don’t really want me to leave, Hadley.”
“You’re wrong, Cobi Mayson. I really do want you to leave.”
“How do you know me?”
For some reason, that question makes my pulse beat so hard that I feel it in my throat. “What?”
“How do you know me?”
“I don’t know you.” It’s not a lie; I don’t know him. Even when we were in school together, I didn’t know him—I just knew of him.
“Why are you lying?” He frowns, and I let out an annoyed breath. If he thinks I’m stubborn, he should look in the mirror.
“We went to school together.”
“We did?” His frown deepens as his eyes roam over my face and hair like he’s trying to place me.
“I was a freshman when you were a senior. We didn’t know each other. We didn’t even have any classes together. I knew of you, because everyone knew of you.”
“I see, though I can’t believe I don’t remember you. Even if you were a freshman when I was a senior, there’s no way I’d forget a face like yours.”
His words are sweet, but he has no idea the girl I was back then. I was not just chubby; I was about sixty pounds overweight. I had acne, glasses that were three sizes too big for my face, and my hair was crazy. I was a nerd. I still am a nerd, but now I’m just a nerd on the inside.
I was teased all the time when I was in school, and I only ever had one friend—that person being Brie. I don’t know how or why Brie befriended me way back in fifth grade, but she did, and we stayed tight, even though she could have easily been in the popular crowd. At the beginning of our friendship, I thought she was nice to me because she felt sorry for me, but with time, I learned that was just Brie. She’s nice to everyone, she doesn’t judge, she doesn’t make assumptions, and she never thinks she knows someone’s story just from hearsay.
“I don’t look like I did back then,” I tell him when I notice he hasn’t taken his eyes off me. “At all.”
“Were you one of those kids who walked around in baggy clothes and all black all the time?”
“No, I was one of the girls who was overweight and awkward. Believe me, if you saw me in the hall, you wouldn’t have given me a second glance.”
“I doubt that,” he mumbles. “I bet you were beautiful even then.”
He’s so wrong, but I don’t think without proof he will believe me. Also him seeing the mess I was back then might scare him into leaving.
“Be right back.” I go to my spare bedroom and open the closet. I pull out one of the large plastic totes I have stored there then dig through it until I find what I’m looking for. I take it with me to the living room, sit down in the middle of the couch right next to Cobi, and open the yearbook in my lap. When I find my photo, I point at myself, thinking I’m glad the media chose to use my old Facebook photo instead of the one I’m looking at.
My hair is more frizz than curl. My purple plastic glasses take up half my face and make my nose look scrunched at the end from the weight of them. I’m smiling a weird smile that shows off my crooked teeth, and my cheeks are dotted with acne. Looking at the picture, I know that if I didn’t have Brie, I wouldn’t have made it out of school unscathed. Kids can be mean, and they were sometimes mean to me, but having Brie and her unwavering friendship, I never felt alone. I always had someone to sit with, someone to hang with, and she never made me feel like I didn’t belong.