Page 42 of When You Smile

Taryn paused and an unreadable expression enveloped her perfect features. It made Charlie want to confess everything, that she was drawn to Taryn whether she should be or not. That she thought about her more than a friend thinks about another friend. That she was attracted to her physically to the point she’d experienced foreign reactions from her traitorous body. But what would that say about her relationship with Danny? What would it mean for everything she thought she knew about herself and what she wanted in life? But the unanswered questions were becoming tiresome, and Charlie wasn’t prepared to battle them anymore. Because what did one do when they didn’t have answers? Seek them out. She stopped walking and turned to Taryn, more determined than she’d ever been. They weren’t alone on a busy sidewalk. Not even close. Students and faculty flooded the walkway between buildings, dodging each other, talking animatedly with their friends and classmates as they moved from one class to the next. Didn’t matter. All Charlie saw was Taryn.

“I really like you, Taryn.” She exhaled. It was a step.

Taryn stood taller, making the two inches she had on Charlie all the more noticeable. “Is that what we’re talking about? Like?”

“I’m not sure.”

Taryn hesitated, this time searching for words. “What does that mean? You like me. Because it could go a lot of ways, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered where your head was when it came to us.”

She nodded. “Us.” God, she liked the sound of that as much as it terrified her. “I imagine I’ve made things confusing. I can see that. But it’s because I have been confused. In fact, to be specific—”

“Hey, Charlie.” Trey Cobb stood at her elbow with a concerned look on his face. “Hate to bother you, but I left my notebook under my seat in class, and the door must have locked because I can’t get in. Do you by chance have the key?”

“I do. Um…” She turned fully to Trey and blinked herself into the here and now of his plight. “I can walk you back up there. I don’t think there’s a class after ours.”

“Thank you. I have a project due next class, and I need that folder badly.”

She turned to Taryn, apologetic. “Can we maybe press pause?”

“Definitely. I get it.” But her eyes held so many questions. While Charlie wasn’t sure she had the answers, she was certainly willing to try to find them.

“Let’s talk soon,” she said, holding eye contact as she reluctantly walked away from the girl who owned all her thoughts these days.

Chapter Ten

Taryn walked into her apartment, closed the door, and stared at Caz and Sasha, who were seated on the floor, textbooks open. “Can everyone drop what they’re doing and give me the best advice you’ve ever given anyone? I have girl problems.”

“Don’t we all,” Sasha said, Red Bull frozen on the way to her lips.

Taryn also went still. “You have girl problems?”

“Newly. Didn’t even know that was possible, but there was one at the vend-a-snack on the second floor who I’m pretty sure is my soulmate, but I don’t know which room she lives in. The mystery is intense.”

“Start knocking on doors in the name of love,” Caz deadpanned with a shrug.

Taryn pointed. “That’s what I need. Flat-out practical wisdom. Door knocking will produce the snack girl. But how do I get my babysitter to tell me her true feelings for me when I’m starting to suspect they’re beyond just friendly?”

“I think you just one-upped me,” Sasha said. “A babysitter trumps an unknown hungry girl.”

“I can agree with that.” Caz nodded. “Wait. What happened to the photography mentor? I thought she was who you were mixing and mingling with these days. The babysitter is straight.”

“I need to take notes,” Sasha said. “There are a lot of angles here.”

Taryn blinked. The reference to Ashley threw her because she’d honestly not thought about her at all since Charlie had gone home from their tree-watching session. That had to say something.

“Nothing happened to Ashley. She’s all well and good, but it’s Charlie who is making my head spin, and I need a de-spinner.”

Caz tilted her head. “Say more words.”

“We need context,” Sasha said, touching the floor with one finger. “My babysitter was sixty-two years old and not datable, so I find this confusing.”

“Well, let me help. She’s twenty-six, beautiful, kind, smart, and good at everything. I want to spend as many minutes as possible with her, and the more I do that, the more minutes I crave.”

Caz nodded sagely as if to say right on. Sasha pointed. “How can I sign up for a babysitter like that?”

“You can’t. She’s rare and amazing and also really confusing. That’s the problem. We were this close to having a real conversation about whatever it is that’s bubbling between us—”

“I applaud the use of bubbling.” Caz jotted a note in her phone.

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