The Stand-In Boyfriend (Grove Valley High #1)(89)
Jessie’s face falls the minute he sees me standing on his doorstep. It must be written all over my face what I’m about to do, something that if you’d told me four months ago I was thinking of doing, I’d have laughed in your face, but I know without a doubt it’s the right thing.
He steps aside to let me in and must still have some hope because he reaches forward to try to kiss me on the mouth, but I turn my head and his lips hit me on the cheek instead.
“Can we talk?” I ask. I can hear his family moving around.
He nods without saying anything and leads me through his house, out to the back patio and into the yard away from the noise of his dad watching football and his little sisters arguing about clothes. He sits down on the wooden bench his grandpa built for his mom, the one we’ve sat on a million times before, and he looks up at me. The expression on his face almost breaks my heart. It’s the way I’ve wanted him to look at me all along, but now it doesn’t work. Now it just feels odd and misplaced and like he doesn’t have a right to look at me like that.
I sit down beside him and neither of us speaks for several minutes, just listening to the noise of the neighbor kids playing in their garden and the music from the radio in his kitchen as it drifts down toward us. Jessie reaches out and grips my hand, squeezing it tightly. I grip it back just as hard, feeling like I could burst into tears. I really don’t want to lose him, but I can’t go on like this. I can’t pretend there’s something there when there’s not.
He turns to me. “I was too late, wasn’t I?”
I ENTER THE CAFETERIA THROUGH a side entrance out by the picnic benches and it gives me the perfect view of Chase at his table. He’s surrounded, as usual, but he’s indifferent to it all. The only time he looks vaguely engaged is when Aaron says something next to him and he says something in return before retreating back into himself. Despite people clearly laughing and joking around him, he stays focused on the food in front of him, although he doesn’t eat it. He does occasionally look up, and I’m pretty sure every time he does he’s glancing over at our usual table, at Jessie, who in turn is deep in conversation with Sophie. She looks like she’s berating him—she’s been doing that a lot lately, finally telling him what she thinks of the way he’s treated me. The poor guy’s been chewed out more than once over the last couple of days. I turn my attention back to Chase and he looks tired, tired and irritated, but just the sight of him releases some of my stress. He’s avoided me completely for what feels like forever, keeping away from his usual hangouts, and I guess he figured he’d be safe in here because he knows I’d never want to approach him unless he’s on his own, knows I couldn’t handle the stress and anxiety of knowing everyone would be watching if I approached him after being talked about for weeks—but I’m done waiting.
I summon every ounce of courage I have and step farther into the cafeteria. I step past the first table of freshmen girls as they look at me curiously—I’m still the source of gossip in this place—and then past some guys I’m pretty sure are mathletes and don’t have a clue who I am before I’m able to head on a straight path to his table, and that’s when he looks up. Some sort of emotion crosses his face as he sees me, but he quickly masks it. He doesn’t look away as I get closer, and I keep moving forward despite the fact that I’m terrified he’ll hate me as much as he did after Jessie’s party and despite the nerves I feel as the rest of his table seems to fall silent and turn to look at me when they sense his attention has been caught. I need to do this. He has to listen to me.
I stop a couple of steps away, everyone around him now staring at me intently, and I swear someone whispers, “Crawling back,” under their breath before Aaron gives them a swift dig in the side and they shut up. I don’t know who said it; I don’t even look. I don’t take my eyes off of Chase. It’s only been a couple of weeks since I last saw him up close, since he drove me to Jessie’s birthday party, but it feels like a lifetime.
“Hey,” I manage to get out, nervously twisting my fingers together in front of me.
His eyes drift down to my hands and I immediately stop fidgeting, instead letting them drop to my sides—not that it matters. He knows I’m nervous, I know I’m nervous, everyone in this place probably knows I’m nervous.
“Hi,” he responds, returning his gaze to mine. Those sparkling green eyes don’t hold any of the warmth they’ve always had when they’ve been focused on me, the warmth I was just too oblivious to notice before.
We don’t say anything for a couple of seconds, both of us just staring at the other, and it’s only after ten seconds or so that I realize I can’t hear any of the usual noise of the cafeteria around me. I glance around, and sure enough, all eyes are on me. It makes me sick to my stomach.
“Um,” I choke out, returning my gaze to him. “Can we…can we talk for a minute?” I hate the stammer in my voice but I’m so nervous I can’t help it.
He doesn’t respond for what feels like the longest time but eventually shrugs carelessly, like my request is nothing, and indicates the one vacant seat at his table—his table that is heaving with people, heaving with the most popular kids at school, who all currently have their eyes glued to me. “Sure, take a seat.”