Page 57 of Single Teddy
Teddy pressed his lips together and looked at me. “Thank you again. I want you to know I’m taking everything you said seriously. I’ve booked an appointment with a therapist as well. And I am going to talk to Wyatt. I can’t stop thinking about those boys either.”
“Well, they better have a plan by tomorrow because I wasn’t kidding. I will go in without them first thing Monday. Well, first thing after school.”
“I won’t let you go in alone. I’ll be there, no matter what,” he said with so much depth that my heart fluttered as if it had got wings all of a sudden and threatened to fly out of my chest.
“Thank you. And I’ve got a cover plan, so it’s all good on my end.”
He smiled seriously as if to say he had heard me and understood, and my phone went off again.
Even before I picked it up, I knew what it was, and I rolled my eyes.
Ruby:
You know I worry when you don’t reply. You better be eloping with hot Teddy.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Teddy asked, and I froze.
“Huh?” I asked when I managed to look at him.
“It’s none of my business, of course,” he said. “I’ve just noticed you get a lot of texts.”
I glanced down at my phone and almost burst out laughing. But not because it was that funny. It was because of my nerves. And because…was Teddy jealous or was I projecting again?
“God no. Do you really think I’d have a boyfriend?”
“Oh, sorry. Girlfriend.”
I laughed out loud.
“Oh no, Iamgay. But I definitely don’t have a boyfriend.”
Teddy narrowed his eyes.
“Why definitely?”
“Because…” I said. “Come on. I couldn’t possibly have a boyfriend.”
“Why couldn’t you possibly have a boyfriend? What’s wrong with you?” he insisted.
Had someone turned up the temperature in here? Why was I getting all hot and sweaty all of a sudden, and not the good kind?
“What isn’t wrong with me? Look at me!” I said, but I immediately regretted it.
As if I needed to call attention to my imperfect body or all my visible flaws.
“I am,” Teddy said, and a knot formed in my throat.
His icy blue eyes were glued to me, threatening to set me on fire with their intensity. He looked at me as if I were important. As if I were beautiful. As if he wanted me. But he couldn’t possibly…
“Well, stop it.” I leaned in on the table to hide my fat and instinctively hugged myself to conceal more of my body from him.
“You asked me to look,” he said, all serious and growly, and I looked away from him.
Was it possible he liked me? That he wanted me? That he was queer?
Of course he could be queer, but wanting me? That made me want to laugh.
“Well, I take it back.” I pushed back my chair and stood.
