Phoebe’s cars? “My dad thinks I would feel better if I got more fresh air.”
“Wouldn’t more sleep help?” Immediately after the sarcastic words, his face showed just a hint of a flush. “Sorry.”
I smiled and wished I could have given some witty reply like Phoebe or Chloe would have, but only the truth came to me. One small step for me. One giant leap for our project. Right?
“I know it looks like I’m not with it in class, but I’ve had some things going on that have been tiring me out. I really will do my share. I want to,” I said and braced myself along the wall in order to get my shoes tied.
“Yeah, well, sorry if I was a bit harsh, but I really need to keep my GPA up and I’m a bit of a control freak. I hate having to let go of things.”
One thing we had in common. Maybe his need for control was what had kept the transfer of his feelings from happening.
“So, can we start over?” I asked, feeling hopeful. “Maybe pretend that we just met, and you’ve never seen me fall asleep in class?”
One side of his mouth tipped up. “If you can pretend that I never …”
“Acted like a complete ass?”
“I was going to say acted like the genius that I am, but ass will do.” He held out my backpack.
I giggled and grabbed my bag from him, swaying a little again.
“Lily, I think you should at least sit down for a few minutes. Let me get you a drink. Maybe it’s low blood sugar or something.”
I tried to protest, but he was a lot bigger than I was and, with a single shove from him, I practically flew across the room towards the couch. He left me to get myself seated properly.
“No soda, please,” I called after him. While he was gone, I tried to pull myself together. I was still light headed and weak from the transfer.
He came back a minute later with a tall glass of orange juice. I took it from him and gulped down a couple giant sips before putting it on a square coaster on the coffee table.
“Feel better?” he asked as he sat next to me. Seating was limited, as the only other chair in the room was a rocking chair covered with a huge stack of papers.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I just...” I shrugged, a pleasant and guilty warmth spreading through me as his knee brushed against mine. There was that lack of transfer again.
“So...” He seemed to search for something to say. “No soda, huh?”
“It aggravates my migraines, so I try and avoid it as much as possible.”
“Can’t you get medication or something for that?”
I shrugged, not wanting to tell him I avoided anyone or thing associated with the medical profession as much as possible.
“I try to not eat or drink anything that triggers them. I used to get them all the time, but I haven’t had one in nearly a year. I’m hoping I’m one of the lucky few that outgrows them.” I paused and took in a deep breath. The dizziness and disorientation I’d had after fainting was almost gone, but I didn’t feel the pressing need to leave. Micah was gradually losing his prickishness and he actually seemed like he could be a decent guy.
“So, are you liking it here in Beachgrove?” I asked again, wondering if I would get a more detailed answer this time around.
“I suppose. Apart from the girls around here. There’s one who just won’t stop trying to boss me around.” He gave me a smirk and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“You must be used to them just whacking you for your stupidity.” I really hoped that didn’t come across as flirty as it sounded.
“Maybe, but I’m hoping that this one does prove me wrong. For the sake of my GPA, of course.”
“Of course.”
It felt surreal to be sitting on the couch with Micah, joking when only a few hours ago I’d been ready to bite his head off. I tried to think of the last time I’d joked with anyone, and realized it had been way to long. The state of being I was in around Dylan, or after seeing him, or even before seeing him, was not the kind for joking.
“The
“Wouldn’t more sleep help?” Immediately after the sarcastic words, his face showed just a hint of a flush. “Sorry.”
I smiled and wished I could have given some witty reply like Phoebe or Chloe would have, but only the truth came to me. One small step for me. One giant leap for our project. Right?
“I know it looks like I’m not with it in class, but I’ve had some things going on that have been tiring me out. I really will do my share. I want to,” I said and braced myself along the wall in order to get my shoes tied.
“Yeah, well, sorry if I was a bit harsh, but I really need to keep my GPA up and I’m a bit of a control freak. I hate having to let go of things.”
One thing we had in common. Maybe his need for control was what had kept the transfer of his feelings from happening.
“So, can we start over?” I asked, feeling hopeful. “Maybe pretend that we just met, and you’ve never seen me fall asleep in class?”
One side of his mouth tipped up. “If you can pretend that I never …”
“Acted like a complete ass?”
“I was going to say acted like the genius that I am, but ass will do.” He held out my backpack.
I giggled and grabbed my bag from him, swaying a little again.
“Lily, I think you should at least sit down for a few minutes. Let me get you a drink. Maybe it’s low blood sugar or something.”
I tried to protest, but he was a lot bigger than I was and, with a single shove from him, I practically flew across the room towards the couch. He left me to get myself seated properly.
“No soda, please,” I called after him. While he was gone, I tried to pull myself together. I was still light headed and weak from the transfer.
He came back a minute later with a tall glass of orange juice. I took it from him and gulped down a couple giant sips before putting it on a square coaster on the coffee table.
“Feel better?” he asked as he sat next to me. Seating was limited, as the only other chair in the room was a rocking chair covered with a huge stack of papers.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I just...” I shrugged, a pleasant and guilty warmth spreading through me as his knee brushed against mine. There was that lack of transfer again.
“So...” He seemed to search for something to say. “No soda, huh?”
“It aggravates my migraines, so I try and avoid it as much as possible.”
“Can’t you get medication or something for that?”
I shrugged, not wanting to tell him I avoided anyone or thing associated with the medical profession as much as possible.
“I try to not eat or drink anything that triggers them. I used to get them all the time, but I haven’t had one in nearly a year. I’m hoping I’m one of the lucky few that outgrows them.” I paused and took in a deep breath. The dizziness and disorientation I’d had after fainting was almost gone, but I didn’t feel the pressing need to leave. Micah was gradually losing his prickishness and he actually seemed like he could be a decent guy.
“So, are you liking it here in Beachgrove?” I asked again, wondering if I would get a more detailed answer this time around.
“I suppose. Apart from the girls around here. There’s one who just won’t stop trying to boss me around.” He gave me a smirk and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“You must be used to them just whacking you for your stupidity.” I really hoped that didn’t come across as flirty as it sounded.
“Maybe, but I’m hoping that this one does prove me wrong. For the sake of my GPA, of course.”
“Of course.”
It felt surreal to be sitting on the couch with Micah, joking when only a few hours ago I’d been ready to bite his head off. I tried to think of the last time I’d joked with anyone, and realized it had been way to long. The state of being I was in around Dylan, or after seeing him, or even before seeing him, was not the kind for joking.
“The
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