Page 19 of Little Do You Know

I SPENT THE next week ignoring Sebastian because I knew he would cave. Well, I didn’t know for sure, but I wasn’t speaking to him, and he wasn’t speaking to me.

Owen hasn’t asked what I yelled at Sebastian, nor has anyone else. Vera and Stacey questioned me endlessly about it, but Blake only mentioned it once. Let me tell you, it was a fucking awkward car ride back riding in Bash’s lap.

Owen and Bash won their game on Saturday by a landslide. Watching Sebastian control an entire football field was annoyingly hot, and I’m mad at myself for even thinking that. It makes me no better than everyone else obsessed with him. The pictures I’d taken at the game turned out great. Usually, I wouldn’t bother photographing sports because it’s primarily point-and-shoot, but expanding my portfolio is good. It finally allowed me to send a photo of Sebastian to Penelope. Her response only asked if I’d climbed the tree yet.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table working on my history assignment while Blake is working independently. I think she was skeptical when I asked if she wanted to come over and do homework, but I do have shit I need to get done.

I’m currently working on an assignment focused on Stalin’s five-year purges, and the things he did while in power are horrifying. Despite having learned about it before, it never gets any easier to read.

It feels like when I’m around Bash. It should be easy to read him at this point since I’ve known him longer than I can remember. Despite our history, it’s still a struggle.

I can’t believe I let my temper get the best of me like that. At least I said everything in French, but I should have been more careful.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Blake asks, interrupting my thoughts.

Huh? “Talk about what?”

She brushes a fallen lock of hair behind her ear. “The reason you’re staring at your computer screen like you want to kill someone. Unless Stalin makes you that angry.”

I hesitate, because telling Blake anything is against whatever unspoken agreement Bash and I have about that night. But it might be nice to get advice from someone other than Penelope, whose only advice is to climb him like a tree.

“I don’t know where to start.” How do you cover sixteen years of history to make it easier to understand?

“You could start with whatever happened between you guys before you left for France?” Blake suggests, and I look at her, confused. How does she know something happened? “Owen can’t keep his mouth shut. He wanted to know if I knew anything about your argument at your going-away party. I’m guessing Bash’s dumb jock comment the first day I met you stems from that argument?”

An immediate frown settles over my face at the thought of my going-away party. “Toward the end of my first year at Duke, I got tipsy at a party. Bash was there, and I kissed him. I thought…I don’t know what I thought.” I was leaving for France the next week. If he rejected me, I knew I’d have a lot of time to recover from the embarrassment.

“So you guys kissed?”

“Yeah. And again on the night of my going-away party. Bash had stopped by my dorm room, didn’t say anything, just came in, kissed me, and I let him.” My face heats up at that part of the memory because it probably would have gone much further than kissing if Owen hadn’t shown up. “Things were heated, but then Owen knocked on my door. I knew it was him because we had this dumb secret knock when we were kids, and he insists on still doing it. I shoved Bash into my bathroom and tried to make myself presentable quickly.”

Blake is hanging onto every word I’m saying, and this is the part where I become the bad guy. I know it’s my fault, but I don’t know if Sebastian understood I was trying to protect him. Owen would forgive me, but I don’t know about Sebastian. “Owen wanted to know if something had happened between Bash and me. One of their teammates was at that party and saw me kiss Sebastian. I panicked and said no. I said it was ridiculous he thought I’d lower my standards for a dumb jock who couldn’t even pick a major, and basically that I’d never go for a guy like Sebastian.”

I close my eyes, and I can still vividly see the look of hurt on his face when I came to let him out of the bathroom. “I was the dumb one. Bash left without saying anything, and I felt sick the entire night.”

“I found him toward the end of the party. We’d both been drinking, and I didn’t even try to apologize like I should have. I asked him why he’d kissed me, and Bash scowled at me like usual. I shouldn’t have because you’re a fucking child. And I snapped. We yelled a lot. I left the next day and went to France. We didn’t speak once while I was gone. I came back, and we’ve done nothing but fight.”

“Your brother’s best friend kisses you, and you don’t know why?” Blake asks, and I shrug. The answer I wanted it to mean is unlikely, so it might be better not to know. “Lia, I hate to break it to you, but if you can’t see how he put his friendship with Owen on the line for you, then you are the dumb one.”

Shit, Blake didn’t mince her words at all. “Thanks for not telling me to climb him like a fucking tree. That was much more helpful.”

She looks at me with utter disbelief. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right. What did you just say?”

I should try thinking before speaking. “Penelope, my best friend from France, came up with just climb him like a tree already and get it over with. That’s been her advice.”

“That is hilarious. Is that what you were yelling at Sebastian on the beach because your face is as red now as it was then.”

“It was more like Penelope says I should climb you like a tree, but if I did that, it wouldn’t be what she had in mind. It’d be so I could kill you.”

Blake erupts into a fit of giggles, hugging her stomach. “No fucking way. That is the funniest shit I’ve ever heard. I wish you had said that in English to see the look on Sebastian’s face.”

I slump into my chair, covering my face. “I thought I did say it in English. I didn’t realize I’d switched to French. I was ready to drown myself before you told me.”

“It makes sense that your brain would revert if you were mad enough. It’s probably all you spoke for an entire year. If I had to guess, your brain is probably having difficulty keeping up with all the changes,” Blake contemplates out loud. “So what’s your plan?”

I look down at my textbook. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m ignoring him.”

The real question Blake should have asked is how far we’re willing to take things before one of us calls chicken.

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