Page 24 of Landon & Shay: Part One

His jawline tightened, and he gripped the straps of his backpack tight. “Greyson talks too much,” he hissed.

“I’m glad he told me.”

Landon took a step backward. “Look, Chick, I don’t want or need your pity. I ain’t some charity case, okay? I don’t need Little Miss Perfect to fix my life.”

“I’m not trying to fix your life, Landon, and I’m not perfect—”

“Yeah, whatever. If you’re backing out of the challenge, cool. I didn’t expect you to follow through anyway. I knew you wouldn’t have it in you, but don’t come acting like you’re doing me some favor by punking out. I’m still one hundred percent certain I’d win.”

I studied him. Not just the words he was saying, but how he was moving. How his fingers fidgeted. How his crooked smile frowned.

Greyson’s words floated through my head as I looked at Landon.

He’s the kind of sad you only notice if you look closely enough.

His eyes.

His beautiful, sad eyes.

His eyes were heavy and miserable, filled with a story he was too terrified to tell. He kept something to himself. His hurts? His pain, maybe? His truths?

I wanted to know more about those parts of him. I wanted to study the angles he kept hidden from the world. I wanted to know about the boy I hated and why he hated himself even more. I was absolutely certain there was no one who hated Landon as much as he hated himself, and that idea alone made me feel bad for him.

Not pity him…but just…feel bad.

He had to be the most complex character I’d ever crossed as a storyteller, and I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by the idea of seeing how his story would unfold.

“Fine. The challenge is still on,” I said, rolling my shoulders back.

His body relaxed a little, as if he was pleased with the idea of the bet being on again. It was as if he needed this for some reason.

Seconds later, his body tensed up again, and he shrugged. “Good. See you when you’re saying you love me,” he said, walking off.

“Not before you say you love me first.”

“In your dreams, darling.”

“More like my nightmares,” I shouted his way. “And don’t call me darling!”

He flipped his hand in the air in boredom, putting an end to our conversation as he kept moving away. I stayed beside his locker for a few seconds, coming to the full understanding that I might have taken on more than I could handle trying to get Landon to fall in love with me. I wasn’t even sure he knew what love was, let alone what loving me meant.

This challenge was a mistake. We both knew that to be true.

Still, somehow, I wanted it for reasons unknown to me, wanted it more than I should’ve. Whenever I was near him, I felt this heat in my body that I’d never felt from anyone else. I wanted to know why that was a thing. I wanted to know if he felt it, too.

I wanted to know his story. His ugly, hard novel.

I wanted to read his words, even though they seemed to bleed across the page in the most painful way.

* * *

“I’m sorry,let me get this right,” Tracey said, standing next to my locker later that afternoon. “You bet Landon you could make him fall in love with you?”

I grabbed my English book. “Yes.”

“Landon, as in Landon Harrison?”

“Uh-huh.”

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