Page 30 of Landon & Shay: Part One

She raised an eyebrow. “Hopefully it’s legal?”

“It is.”

A small sigh released between her lips. “Good. That’s really good, Landon. But if you need something else, here’s an afterschool program I thought you might be interested in.” She handed me a pamphlet, and I was officially tagged as damaged goods. Afterschool support groups were the final key to that fact.

“It’s a group of teens who have gone through tough situations. They meet up twice a week and just hang out and talk about their issues.”

I pushed the brochure back in her direction. “Nah, I’m not really one for therapy sessions, much less group ones.”

She pushed it back. “I hear what you’re saying, but sometimes, the best thing we can do in life is step outside of our comfort zone.”

I didn’t argue it and took the brochure. I shoved it into my backpack and sat back in my chair.

The conversation dragged on like the rest of the day. Every time I crossed Shay’s path, I made sure to flash her one of my asshole smiles, and she’d get all flustered by it. The next days were a lot of the same, but when Wednesday came around, she smiled back. Her cheeks didn’t redden, and she didn’t hurry away from me. When I sat at the lunch table before anyone else, Shay walked over and set her tray down directly across from mine.

She didn’t look up at me.

She didn’t say a word.

She simply sat and opened her paper carton of chocolate milk. One time, I overheard her talking to some girl, saying how she hated regular milk because it seemed a bit too close to a person sucking from an udder, but chocolate milk was different because it had a more-acceptable-for-humans flavor.

I didn’t know what she meant by such a weird statement, but it wasn’t uncommon for me to not understand the mind of Shay. I’d overheard her say a lot of weird shit before, so the milk comment hadn’t been out of the norm.

The next day, she did the same thing—sat right across from me at lunch. Followed by the next day, and the next.

Her oddness was rubbing me the wrong way, and I couldn’t stay quiet about it. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch.” She popped a grape into her mouth and then tore her sandwich in half. “Use your context clues, Sherlock.” She smirked.

I almost smiled at her sass level. “I see that, but why are you sitting across from me every single day? You know how annoying it is to sit across from your face each day?”

“What’s wrong, Landon?” She raised an eyebrow. “Does my closeness make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s going to take a lot more than a little close proximity to scare me off, dollface.”

“Don’t call me dollface.”

“Then don’t have one.”

She ate her lunch in complete silence after that, staring me straight in the eyes without any kind of blushing or shying away.

Okay, Gable. I see where you’re going with this.

She was trying to prove a point—that she could be in the same space as me, face to face, and not back down due to nervousness. She was puffing her chest out and pounding her fists against it.

I am Shay, here me roar.

But still, there was something more to it that I couldn’t see, something deeper to her story that she was keeping just for herself. Not being able to crack that open was going to drive me insane.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“Something wrong?”

“What’s your angle?”

“My angle?”

“Yeah. Why can’t I read you, Chick?”

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