Page 21 of Catch the Sun

A beat.

A breath.

And then his lips curl up, revealing a pair of deep-set dimples I haven’t seen in ten years.

Oh my God—he’s actually smiling and it feels contagious.

I really did take it too far.

I promptly look away and start rummaging through my backpack to find the orange I brought along. It’s better if I keep my mouth distracted before any smiling lines are crossed. After discarding the smooth white stone, I peel back the skin of my fruit and pluck off a pulpy piece, tossing it into my mouth. “What?” I inquire as I chew, still feeling his stare.

“You’re wearing orange, your backpack is orange, and you’re eating an orange,” he notes.

“Congratulations! You have eyes.”

“I just mean…it’s a happy color. Sunny and warm, like you used to be.” Thoughtful consideration twinkles in his gaze as he gives me an additional once-over. “I feel like black fits your personality better these days.”

Juice dribbles down my chin and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. “That’s fair.”

“That doesn’t offend you?”

“Nope. Being offended by something somebody says implies you care about what that person thinks of you. Which I don’t.” Clearing my throat, I add, “No offense.”

“Mmm.”

We blink at each other.

Max Manning still watches me, even after another long silence stretches andmy face reverts back to its typical state of scowling. I reopen the notebook. The words on the page muddle together and my legs feel like I’ve come down with a spontaneous case of restless leg syndrome. I uncross them, letting them dangle over the side of the bench, and then cross them again. My pen taps repetitively against the paper. I sigh a few times for no reason. I think it’s because I’m aware of him. On a regular day, I take shutting out other people to a professional level. It’s a blissful skill to possess. In fact, I should have mentioned it to him.

I guess I’m realizing that I don’t feel lonely right now and I don’t know why.

This makes me scowl harder.

“Are you going to that bonfire tonight?” Max pulls to a stand, swiping dirt and grass blades off his blue jeans as he towers over me.

“No,” I reply, lifting only my eyes. Lifting my entire head makes it seem like I care more than I do. “Are you?”

Now it definitely seems like I care.Dammit.

“No,” he says.

“Cool.”

We stare at each other.

No one moves. No one speaks.

Eventually, he sends me a quick nod and retreats from the little hideaway without another word, leaving a lingering cloud of pine needles and mint behind.

My heart is beating faster than usual. It’s not a gallop, more like a traipse. But it’s a noticeable quickening.

I rub at my chest.

And for some preposterous reason, the echo of our unspoken words reaches my ears as I watch him disappear into the woods.

See you there.

Chapter 6

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