Page 40 of I Would Stay Forever
“No,” I said sullenly. “It hasn’t.”
Dean’s grin slipped. Then, just to add to my mortification, my hair elastic snapped. I could feel my hair slipping out of the barely-held-together messy bun and drape along the back ofmy neck. Frustration welled inside of me, so strong that for a second, I felt like I might cry. I dropped my forehead to the desk and let out a soft whimper.
“Hey,” he said. I didn’t look at him. He poked me gently with the tip of his pencil. “You okay?”
His voice was gentler than I’d heard it in a while. The last time he’d spoken to me like that… I thought of the first day of school when I met him under the bleachers. When I hated him for being able to see through me and the facade I put up for the rest of the world. It was strange how only a week later, I actually felt a little bit touched that he cared.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, not wanting him to worry about me. “It was just one of those mornings.”
He hummed. “Yeah, I can see that.”
I glared at him. “You don’t need to point it out.”
“Hey, I was just agreeing with you.” He nudged my foot gently with his. I rolled my eyes but grinned and kicked him back gently. He didn’t say anything else so I turned my attention back to the board. A second later, though, I noticed a scrunchie placed on the desk. It was a blue and grey plaid one that looked like it was designed to match the school uniform. I looked at Dean curiously and he shrugged. “Nora’s. They always end up in my bag somehow. She won’t care if you use it.”
I blinked at him then dropped my gaze down to the scrunchie. It seemed wrong to use his sister’s scrunchie for a number of reasons, but if the choice was between that and leaving my hair as it was… I took the scrunchie and tied my hair up again.
Neither of us spoke again for the period as we kept watching Mr. Thompson, but I swore Dean’s chair moved a little closer than it had been before. His upper leg was pressed against mine, sending shivers up my spine just like yesterday, but this time Ididn’t jerk away or try to avoid him. Instead, I just enjoyed the feeling of him right next to me, a solid and comforting presence.
My hair was still a mess, my socks wrong, and my skirt was threatening to slide high enough to show off something I did not want to be seen— but somehow, sitting next to him, the day didn’t feel quite as catastrophic anymore.
twenty
I didn’t expectto see Dean again all day, since we didn’t have any other classes together and weren’t planning to meet for our project, so I was very taken aback when I got to my locker at lunch and found him leaning against it. He was standing in a typical boy pose, his shoulders pressed against the metal, one leg crossed over the other, and one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding onto the strap of his backpack. I might have stopped to appreciate the view—if he wasn’t currently chatting with Zoey.
I rushed forward. Zoey and Dean barely knew each other, and any time she and I had spoken about him was when she was trying to convince me to go out with him, which didn’t bode well for whatever they were chatting about. The bad feeling I got only worsened when Zoey spotted me, and turned with a giant smile on her face.
“Hey,” I said warily. I stopped in front of Dean, expecting him to move out of my way so I could open my locker, but he stayed stubbornly in place. I might have assumed he wasn’t sure exactly which one was my locker, except he’d slipped the note into it last week so he obviously did. “What are you guys talking about?”
Zoey grabbed my arm in a talon grip like she thought I was going to run off, which was red flag number three about this whole situation. If Zoey was holding me hostage here, something very bad was about to happen. Well, bad for me—I was sure Zoey was thinking whatever this was would be the most exciting thing in the world.
“You’re coming out for lunch with me,” Dean said. It was a statement, not a question—though it didn’t feel quite like an order, either. For a second, it confused me enough that I wondered if I’d actually agreed to this at some point and forgotten about it, but I was pretty sure I would have remembered that, especially since I would have had to lose my mind to say yes to it.
“No, I’m not,” I said. I made a motion for him to move aside so I could open my locker, but he stayed in place. Was not letting me into my locker a part of his plan somehow? Was he not going to let me access my own stuff if I said no?
“Yes, you are!” Zoey said. Her fingers dug even deeper against my arm. I was just grateful that I was wearing two layers of clothes to stop her from actually cutting into my skin. I glanced at her, wondering if Dean had told her I said yes to this already, but her eyes were wide and she seemed to be trying to telepathically communicate something to me. Clearly, she was trying to subtly tell me “this hot guy is trying to ask you out” but she didn’t know how to be subtle and didn’t understand that I could not go out with Dean.
Dean, who I’d imagined half-dressed this morning.
Dean, who kept making butterflies erupt in my stomach and shivers go up my spine.
Dean, who was my brother’s best friend and so, so off-limits.
“Why don’t you take Sebastian out for lunch instead?” I suggested. Then, since subtlety hadn’t been working for me either, I elbowed him out of the way so I could get into my locker—and oh my gosh, his biceps were huge. I clearly wasn’t strong enough to move him but he chuckled and slid out of the way.
I dumped my book bag in there, deciding I’d come back before next period to grab it again and switch out all my books instead of carrying it with me through lunch. The only thing I took out was my wallet—which Dean promptly grabbed from me and chucked back into the locker. I gaped at him, but he just smirked back. “I’m paying.”
Beside me, Zoey swooned. And honestly? I was struggling not to swoon myself. But I couldn’t keep entertaining the idea of Dean and me spending time together outside of the school project. It was only going to get more complicated, and I needed to nip it in the bud.
“No, you’re not,” I said. I dug my hand into the locker, blindly grabbing at whatever I could find, but my hands came up empty. I scowled at Dean. “Where did you throw it?”
I wouldn’t have put it past him to trick me into thinking he’d thrown it in the locker when he’d secretly pocketed it so I wouldn’t be able to find it, but his face was completely innocent as he shrugged.
“It’s somewhere in there.”
I was suddenly beginning to question why I ever thought he might be someone I’d want to spend more time with. The boy was infuriating.
“What if I need it for something?”
