Page 51 of One Life to Loathe

“I thought so too.”

“Then why did you stop being friendly?”

He made a protesting sound with his tongue. “Um … I didn’t stop being friendly. You stopped being friendly.”

“I did not.”

“You did too.”

“No, I didn’t.” I moved closer to him. We would’ve been nose to nose if he wasn’t so many inches taller than me. “You were mean, so I stopped trying.”

“No, you were mean, so I stopped trying.”

“That is a bald-faced lie.”

He stared hard into my eyes, an emotion I couldn’t quite identify flashing red, then he grinned. “I might’ve been the jerk.”

“Might have?” I could breathe easier when I was a few steps away from him. My heart was still pounding from being so close, though.

“Fine, I was a jerk.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, almost as if he didn’t know what to do with them and was worried they would start wandering. “Being around you makes me crazy.”

“Because you don’t like me,” I surmised.

“No, that’s not it.” He looked annoyed with my response.

“Then what is it?”

At first I didn’t think he was going to respond. It would be just like him to do something sweet—like making sure I wasn’t dead—and then take off. He didn’t do that, though. Instead, hegrabbed the top of the cemetery wall and rocked back and forth. It was as if he was having an internal debate with himself.

“Are you telling me you don’t feel it?” he asked finally. He almost sounded as if he was going through some sort of ordeal when he asked the question.

“Feel what?” I asked dumbly.

“That …spark… whenever we’re together.”

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I was absolutely stunned he’d gone there.

“Whenever I’m with you, I want to see you smile,” he said. “I want to touch you. I want to do other things.” He smoldered as he stopped rocking and stared at me. “I don’t want to feel those things, and yet, I do.”

I didn’t know what to say to him. On one hand, it was nice to know I wasn’t alone with the feelings. On the other hand, though, if I admitted it, we were going to be in trouble. So, I just stood there like an idiot.

“Only me, huh?” The vulnerability I’d seen on his face disappeared in an instant. “Good to know.” He turned to leave. “Don’t stay over here by yourself. I know the town is safe, but something could still happen to you.”

I don’t know what possessed me to stop him. It was the wrong move. Deep down, I knew that. He’d been vulnerable, though, and I couldn’t leave him swaying in the breeze with no support. “Of course I feel it.”

He stopped walking and slowly turned. His expression was impossible to read. “You do?”

“I just said I did. I don’t really want to admit it either.”

“Because it’s a bad idea.”

“Such a bad idea,” I agreed.

He was quiet a beat. “It makes me mean. Not being able to control my feelings. I don’t want to be mean to you. You’re about the only person in the world I can say that about now. I just …can’t seem to stop myself. When I have feelings, I don’t know how to deal with, I get mean.”

“And I become a whiner,” I supplied. “Or what is it you called me? A professional victim, right? That’s me.”

“It’s not you.” He started moving back toward me. “You would be fine if I would stop being a jerk. I just can’t seem to help myself. You make me crazy.”

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