Promposal Page 14

  We worked in silence for the next few minutes, pausing only to ask each other questions about random homework things.

  “I’m going to miss this, you know,” I told him. My throat tightened with unexpected emotion.

  He looked up at me, a brow raised. “What do you mean? You’ll miss all this glorious homework?” He waved a hand over the table.

  “No. I’m going to miss being able to see you every day when we graduate and move away.” I sighed. Everything was going to change. I wouldn’t be able to sneak in Joshua’s bedroom window at night to hang out and talk, or have impulsive Sunday-afternoon shopping trips. “Maybe it’s not too late for me to join you in New York City. There’s nothing holding me to this place anyway.”

  “I’ll just sneak you into my dorm room. No one will ever know.”

  “I’ll get a side job dancing on a street corner.”

  He nodded his approval, a crooked smirk on his face. “Now you’re thinking. That’s the surefire route to success.”

  If only that would really work. But I’d already accepted at the local college, deciding it was the most economical choice. Another lovely four years of living at home. Whee. That thought made me slump.

  “Chin up,” he said, and I saw the sadness in his eyes, which strangely made me feel better—I wasn’t alone in this. “I’ll come visit you every chance I can. And have you visit me too.”

  I nodded and tried to shake off my blues. Yeah, it would be different. But we were too good of friends for distance to come between us. I had to have faith.

  Mom came into the kitchen and eyed the two of us. “Are you two working or are you spending all afternoon yapping?”

  Ah, good old Mom. Some things would never change. For once I appreciated her constant nature. “We’re getting work done.”

  “And yapping,” Joshua said under his breath.

  Mom shot him the evil eye; apparently, she’d heard him. But a moment later, a thoughtful expression crossed her face, and she spun on her heel and headed to the kitchen counter. Tucked away was a foil-wrapped pan.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  She ignored me, peeled the foil off, and then grabbed plates. When she came back over to the table, I saw she’d brought us two huge slices of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. My favorite. He and I both perked up.

  “You two look far too doom and gloom,” she declared. “And skinny. Mama’s cake will fatten your cheeks and make you feel better.”

  I gave her a small hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “I’m going to miss your cake,” Joshua said in all seriousness. I agreed—yeah, my mom was a nutbar, but her cake was out of this world.

  She took an empty seat opposite us and plopped her arms on the table. “Okay. What is wrong with you guys? It is like a stranger kicked your dog or something. I have never seen such frowning faces.”

  I dug into my cake with gusto. I knew exactly what she was doing—bribing us with sugary goodness to get us to talk to her. Unfortunately, her mad scheme was working. “It’s been a crappy few weeks,” I told her as I tried to select the right words. “I like a guy, but he doesn’t like me.” Or not enough, anyway. But the situation was far too complicated to try to explain to her. “And Joshua’s having some love issues as well.”

  Mom nodded. She reached over and scooped a bite of my cake. “Ah, so you finally told Ethan, did you?” she asked him.

  He blinked and sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Wait, you knew too? How is it everyone knew but Ethan?”

  “Please.” Mom waved my fork as she rolled her eyes. “It was so obvious. What, do you think parents are blind or something? We do know what love is. After all, we made you children.”

  Joshua barked a laugh.

  I groaned. “Mom, God, stop. I don’t want to talk about you and Dad having . . .” I couldn’t make myself finish the sentence.

  She huffed. “Well, it’s true.”

  My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the display. RU free to quickly meet and go over prom details this wk? NOT nagging you. Just checking.

  The phone buzzed again with an additional message from Zach. Prom is just 21/2 weeks away . . .

  Crap. He was right. How had time flown away from me this fast? I swallowed, then forced a wide, easy smile to my face before anyone could ask me questions.

  “Who was that texting you?” my mom asked, because God forbid she not know everything going on in this house. Her eyes narrowed at me and she thinned her lips. “Was it that boy who is your prom date? Zach? What’s happening with that, and why haven’t we seen him around lately? You are still going with him, right?”

  Wonderful. I shrugged, even as guilt ate away at my stomach. “Yeah, it was him, but it wasn’t a big deal. I’ll deal with it ASAP, I promise, Mom.” Well, as soon as I could muster some excitement for prom, I would. Not even the allure of dressing up for a night could make me excited about this. I’d been dragging my feet for weeks now, and it was finally starting to bite me in the ass.

  “Not a big deal?” She squinted. “Young lady, you haven’t even gotten your dress yet. How is that not a big deal? Are you brushing this boy off?”

  “Whoa, really?” Joshua asked me, wide-eyed. “You haven’t bought anything for prom? Why not?”

  My face burned, and I crossed my arms. “Guys, I really don’t want to deal with the inquisition right now, if you don’t mind. I do have homework to finish.” I waved at the papers.

  “Camilla.” Mom’s eyes softened, and she reached over and patted my hand. “I know you don’t have feelings for him, but he has feelings for you. You must give this boy a chance. It is only right. We will go tonight and purchase you a dress. No arguments,” she said to cut off my next words. She rose from the table. “It won’t be as lovely as your aunt would have made you, but we have run out of time. Finish your homework like a good girl, and eat the rest of your cake.” Her hand gently patted my cheek, and she left.

  “Your mom is right, you know,” Josh said.

  “That I’m a good girl?” I snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Hon, you did tell him you would go with him to prom. Why haven’t you gotten your dress and accessories yet? What’s making you drag your feet so much? This isn’t like you.”

  I bit my lower lip. “I just don’t feel excited about it. With you down in the dumps over Ethan and possibly not even going to prom and me being forced to go with someone who’s barely a friend, it isn’t something I’m stoked to do. I mean, what’s the point? It’s going to be awkward, and all I’m going to do is think about Benjamin. Which I know is totally unfair to Zach, but it’s true.” I sighed and dropped my head in my hand. “Why can’t I let him go and stop thinking about him so much? He doesn’t want me, but I can’t get him out of my head.”

  He reached over and took my hand. Squeezed it. “I know how you feel. Trust me.”

  “I wish you and I could go together, instead. We’d have so much fun.” I pleaded with him with my eyes. “Is there any way I can get you to consider coming to prom? I’ll help pay for your tux, even. And I’m pretty sure there’s still time to buy a ticket, or we can beg for one somehow.”

  He glanced away, and I saw a flash of pain before he donned a small smile.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “It was selfish of me to ask.” I wouldn’t want it rubbed in my face either. How could I blame him for being so hesitant?

  “No, don’t be sorry. Friends are supposed to be there for each other.” He gave a heavy, painful sigh. “Besides, I bought a ticket last week, just in case.”

  My eyes filled with tears and my throat tightened. I reached over and hugged him. “Really? So you’ll go?”

  He hugged me back. “Like I’d miss the opportunity to see you dolled up. You’re going to look fabulous.”

  “You will too. I can’t imagine any guy in there who will rock a tux harder than you will.”

  He laughed. “Girl, please. We both know that’s the truth.”

  “As
long as you save all the good dances for me.” I’d do my best to make sure Joshua had a great time at prom. That he wouldn’t be hurting badly over Ethan.

  Suddenly I felt renewed, even a touch excited at the thought of dress shopping. No, it wasn’t what I’d wanted to happen. But I’d have a great night with my best friend. I would stop holding Zach at arm’s length and actually make an effort to friend him. Not this half-assed wading-through-life thing I’d been doing the last few weeks.

  I was done with being down. Joshua needed me, and I was determined to be there for him.

  We finished our homework, and he headed home. I put my homework away in my room and stretched out on my bed, arms crossed behind my head. I probably wasn’t going to stop having these feelings for Benjamin for a long time. But that was okay—or it would be, anyway. He’d impacted my life in ways he didn’t know. I found myself thinking deeper, examining music and books in a way I never had before.

  Hmm. That reminded me—hadn’t he suggested a book to me the last time we’d talked, at my locker? Shit, what was it he’d said, and why hadn’t I written it down?

  I scrambled to think. Ah, that was the day I’d found Karen in the bathroom, crying over no one asking her to prom. I’d gotten distracted.

  Cyrano de something or other. Yeah, that was it. All I knew about Cyrano was my mom watching some eighties movie based on the book, where the romantic lead had a huge nose or something.

  I jumped up and rushed to my computer. Oh, wow. Apparently the whole thing was available online. I opened it and began to read, starting with the summary.

  The air locked in my lungs, and I stared dumbly at my screen. No way. There was no way Benjamin would be giving me a message like this. Would he? That was crazy. I read the summary again. The two men in the play were close. Both had feelings for the same woman. And Cyrano had to push aside his feelings so his friend could woo her and win her hand.

  What had he said specifically to me? That I’d find it “illuminating.”

  My stomach began a wild flutter, like a thousand butterflies were trying to burst free. Oh my God. If this was true . . .

  Maybe Benjamin liked me a lot after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Joshua

  I picked at my school salad with my fork. The lettuce was veering on limp, and the oily dressing gave the greens a greasy look. I shot an exaggerated frown at Camilla. “How do you eat this stuff all the time?”

  “You’re just picky.” She dug into her salad with gusto. “It’s not that bad if you eat it fast.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a winning plan. I must be the only one in our whole school who doesn’t find this satisfying.” I snorted.

  Ignoring me, she finished chewing her bite, then put her fork down. Dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Then she drew in a deep breath and spun in her chair to face me. “Can I talk to you about something that seems really crazy at first but actually might not be?”

  “Sounds right up my alley.” I grinned.

  Her eyes grew serious as she leaned toward me. “So . . . I think Benjamin gave me a secret message that he likes me. But I’m not sure if I’m reading into it or not. I was up for hours last night thinking about it, and it’s driving me batty, and I need another person’s perspective.”

  Wow. “A secret message? That sounds fun. What did it say?”

  “Well . . .” She chewed on her lip and glanced away. “Okay, it wasn’t like a text or note or anything. It was a book.”

  “He gave you a book?”

  “No, no.” She waved a hand. “Let me explain.”

  Over the next couple of minutes, Camilla summed up the notes she and Benjamin had passed back and forth in class, discussing books and music and stuff. How they’d been giving each other recommendations and analyzing them. Of course, this had happened before she’d asked him out.

  “So last week, out of the blue, he told me I should read Cyrano de Bergerac, but I forgot all about it. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me since, and I can’t figure out why. Either A, I didn’t read it quickly enough and he’s too embarrassed to bring it up now, or B, I’m reading more into the book’s meaning than he meant and it wasn’t that big of a deal.” She pursed her lips and turned pleading eyes to me. “And the thing is, I really can’t tell which it might be. Because he was pretty firm in telling me to read the book. So it has to mean something, right? I’m not just being weird here?”

  I dug through my memory bank. “Hmm. That’s the one where the ugly guy likes the hot girl, and his hot friend likes her too, right?”

  She nodded.

  “But . . . didn’t the girl also like the hot guy or something?”

  “Yeah. Both guys liked the girl, but at first she only liked the handsome one, not Cyrano. It’s not a perfect fit for our situation, but I don’t know if that matters here. I for sure do not like Zach like that, and Benjamin knows it.” She sighed. “But I’m too afraid to ask him what he actually meant.”

  “Because if it wasn’t a message about him having feelings for you, it will hurt to find that out.” I gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “And I’ll be even more mortified than I already am.” She bit her thumbnail. “So I’m stuck—what do I do? Should I mention I read the play and see what he says? Or has it been too long now?”

  I rubbed my jaw. “I know it’s tempting to read into it—and trust me, I don’t blame you. I’d be doing the exact same thing. But the guy hasn’t said anything to you since then, right?”

  She shook her head, her face miserable. “But I don’t know if that’s because I hadn’t read it yet and he’s waiting for me to. Maybe this was him putting the ball in my court.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “You don’t sound sure.”

  “I guess I feel like if he’s going to tell you something, wouldn’t he be more obvious and open about it? That seems too subtle. Would he make you work this hard to figure out he likes you? After all, since all this began, he hasn’t given you any signs that he’s into you. This just seems too random.”

  She sucked in a loud breath. “Well . . .”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Whoa. Are you holding back on me?”

  “We . . .” She leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “We did kiss. A while ago, while working on our psych project at the mall.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Part of me was hurt by her silence.

  “Because it didn’t happen again. And I felt dumb. And . . .” She flushed, her cheeks staining a pretty pink. “I just—I wanted to savor it. If that makes sense.”

  I nodded. I got it. If the guy I loved kissed me, it would be too special to blab about to everyone. Still . . . “I’m your best friend. You know I wouldn’t have gossiped about it to anyone.” The irony of the situation struck me, and my guilt flared. Ethan had been upset at me for keeping secrets too.

  “I know. I’m sorry.” She gave me a chagrined smile. “After a while, it seemed like it was a nonevent, since nothing happened. So I tried to forget it happened. Until he told me to read that book. Which is why I’m torn.”

  I sipped my Dr Pepper. “Yeah, that does change things a bit.” I rested my hands on my thighs. “But I don’t know. I feel like he could be much more open if he was telling you he liked you. Even with his cousin liking you too. That seems awfully subtle.”

  “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She poked at her salad, eyes downturned, back hunched over.

  I hated making her sad. But I also didn’t want to fill her with false hope if he was just going to hurt her feelings again. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’m wrong.” I nudged her with my side to get her to look at me and offered a small smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “Hey, guys.” Ethan plopped down in the seat beside me and opened his lunch bag. “Sorry I’m late. I had to talk to my German teacher.”

  I blinked and stared at him, my jaw practically hitting the ground. Even Camilla was quiet as we both sat there, shocked.

  Eth
an’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Am I not allowed to sit here anymore?”

  “Um, no, by all means.” I waved at the seat.

  He gave me a brief nod, then bit into his sandwich. I ripped my gaze away and fixed my attention back on my pathetic salad. It was hard, forcing myself to eat, but that was better than letting myself think about how very, very close he was to me. I could feel the heat of his body pouring into my side. His thigh even brushed mine for a fraction of a second as he shifted in his seat. And that familiar scent of his skin and bodywash wafted toward me.

  Don’t you dare close your eyes and breathe him in, I ordered myself. In punishment for my weakness, I ate a huge bite of crappy salad.

  Ethan made small talk with David and Ashley, whose hands were pretty much cemented together now. Since their promposal, I hadn’t seen them apart. Funny how that crush he’d had on Karen had faded when he was faced with real, sweet, true affection. Ashley was good for him, and it made me glad to see them working out.

  It also made me painfully aware of how much I missed my easy relationship with Ethan. Those extended days of silence after my confession had stung me immeasurably. For the hundred thousandth time, I wished I hadn’t told him how I felt.

  Well, that wasn’t quite true. I wished he’d reacted differently.

  But he was here now, and maybe that meant he was ready to pretend like it never happened, for us to go back to being friends. Could we? Was that what I wanted?

  Yes.

  And no.

  It was so hard not to confront him and ask him what was going on with us. And with Noah. How had the promposal gone—had Noah said yes? I’d be damned if I asked Ethan about it, though. And somehow I doubted he’d offer up details anyway.

  “—don’t you think, Joshua?” Ethan was saying.

  I stiffened, caught off guard. I hadn’t paid attention to the conversation. “Uh . . .”

  David rolled his eyes and grinned. “We’re talking about how fast the school year is flying now that it’s almost over.”