Ella's Twisted Senior Year(19)



“Save it for later.” My muscles relax and I sink into the couch, not knowing if the alcohol or Ethan’s smile is making me feel so weak.

“So I guess you’re stuck with me,” Ethan says while he scrolls through the channels on the TV guide.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I play with the seam on the couch, running my finger over the stitches. “I could kick you out right now if I wanted. I think your mom would back me up.”

He gives me a sideways smile. “I’ve been expecting that ever since I walked in here,” he says. “Guess I keep getting lucky each minute you don’t tell me to leave.”

“Why is that luck?” I ask, turning toward him on the couch. “Why are you even in here, trying to be friendly? Trying to make up for the past or something?” The room is spinning a little but I keep my jaw rigid. “Look, the past is the past, Ethan. You don’t have to make up for what you did. I’m over it.”

Lies, of course. But he can’t know that.

He blinks and sits up straighter on the couch. “What I did?”

I stare at him, deadpan. Are we really going to get into this now? No, I decide. “New subject,” I say leaning my head back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m homeless and stuck living at my old best friend’s house. Also I’m pretty sure Kennedy might try to murder me in my sleep and yet, that scares me more than the fact that my parents are totally broke.”

“I won’t let her kill you,” he says as he looks for something to watch. But he’s scrolling so fast, I don’t think he’s actually reading the titles on the TV. “She’d have to sneak in the house and I’m a light sleeper, so I’ll catch her.”

“Good to know. If she tries stabbing me, she’d puncture your mom’s air mattress and we don’t want that happening.”

“Definitely not. God, there’d be blood everywhere. Mom would be pissed.”

He meets my eyes and we both break into a smile. Part of me can still see the old scrawny Ethan beneath his gaze. The floppy mess of black hair is still the same, only now he keeps it shorter in the back, plus he has a dark scruffy beard that he shaves off every few days. Not that I’ve been paying attention. Ethan runs his tongue across his lip and butterflies freak out in my stomach.

“So did you say your parents are broke?” he asks, his expression turning serious. “How is that possible?”

I could really use more liquor. Maybe enough to make me stop talking, because right now I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut. “I don’t know. We didn’t have insurance on the house so they’re totally screwed. We can’t rent a new place until they get some money saved up and even then, Mom’s worried about how we’ll pay rent and the deposit and manage to survive without furniture and stuff.” I hold out my hand, stopping just an inch from touching him. “You can’t tell anyone,” I say.

“I won’t. You can stay here as long as you want. I know my parents won’t mind.” He glances up at the TV and stops it on a channel playing a Twilight Zone marathon. “Plus it seemed like Dakota was excited to see you.”

“Yeah she’s cool. I’ve missed her,” I say, pretending to look at the TV as if I am more interested in watching a black and white science fiction show than staring at the muscles in Ethan’s shoulders, watching them flex and tense as we talk.

“She is cool, huh?”

“That’s because your sister has a mind of her own,” I say, meeting his gaze for just a second before I look away. “Hopefully she stays that way and doesn’t let high school change her.” I can feel Ethan looking at me so I give him a smirk and shove him in the knee. “Unlike someone I know.”

“Hey now,” he says, grabbing my hand quicker than I can pull away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I glance down at our hands and he pulls away, leaving my skin feeling cold and desperately wanting more of his touch. My chest tightens. “You know what I mean. So how does it feel to be so popular?”

He snorts. “I’m not popular.”

“You were dating Kennedy Price, dude. That’s as popular as it gets.”

“And she was a terrible person and I’m glad it’s over.” His hand slides across the empty seat between us, his eyes deep in thought. “When I joined the football team I did it because Dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps and be some kind high school football hero like he was. I didn’t think it’d rocket me up the social ladder, ya know?” His fingers trace invisible lines on the leather. It would be so easy to reach out and touch him. I slide my hands between my knees, keeping them tucked in safely where they can’t do anything stupid.

“Really, Poe?” I roll my eyes. “Football players are at the top of the social ladder. Don’t act like this wasn’t your plan all along. My little dorky friend from four years ago has made quite the transformation. They should make a reality show about you.”

He scratches the back of his head and gives me this half-smile that I am certain has won an award on some social media site for hottest smiles. “I was kind of a dork, huh? How did you put up with me?”

I gnaw on the inside of my lip. After all these years, after so much time spent hating him, we can still sit here and chat like it’s all okay. Like my heart isn’t twisting into painful knots with each beat, longing for what might have been if he’d only liked me back.

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