Page 41 of A Play For The Heart
“Clearly.”
I shoot her an annoyed look, which she immediately shrugs off as she continues to barrel through the bag of chocolate. Taking a moment to think through my strategy, the best idea I can come up with is ripping off the band-aid.
“I have a teensy, tiny crush on Henry, and I have no idea what to do about it,” I blurt out, placing my head into my hands. No need to divulge that it's much larger thanteensy tinyand is more likesuper-duper big.
I expected Maren to have some kind of response. Shock. Horror. Happiness. Gloating because she was right. Something. Instead, she pops another piece of chocolate into her mouth and chews. Ten seconds go by. Then twenty. Then thirty. I stand there, shuffling from side to side, watching for any reaction. I’m having a full-on crisis and she is just munching away on chocolate. Not a single care in the world. My hand itches to snatch the candy away from her. Finally, she speaks.
“I’m glad you finally figured it out.”
Excuse me.
I must have said it out loud because Maren responds.
“I’ve watched you two interact three times.” She gestures the number three with her fingers, “That’s it. And it was clear as day. Henry likes you and you like him back. So, yeah. I’m glad you’ve finally reached the same conclusion I did weeks ago.”
I stare at her like she’s grown three heads. It’s not the ‘I told you so’ I had expected but it pretty much is one, in not so many words. She stands and walks out the door, taking the chocolate with her.
I stare at her back as she walks back towards her bedroom. I call a code red, and she doesn’t even help me. I’m in no better position than I was before she came into the room. She just left tampons on my bed and took the chocolate with her. The chocolate that was originally meant for me.
CHAPTER 19
“And oh how romantic, we both like to panic when there’s something to talk about”
say it first—Role Model
Sawyer
Threedays.
Three full days of having a massive, soul-consuming crush on Henry and I still have no idea what I’m going to do. There’s no handbook or guide for dummies on how to navigate the shitstorm that I’m in. Trust me, I scoured Amazon. I haven’t spoken to him since book club on Sunday night when I finally realized how deep I was in my feelings for him. This isn’t a little crush. This is a spend-every-waking-moment-thinking-about-him infatuation.
It’s fair to say I’m in a pickle. Having feelings for your best friend is dangerous territory. Navigating what I should do is like trying to walk through Target without buying anything. A disaster waiting to happen. I’ve been avoiding speaking to or seeing him. I respond to every text he sends me with vague answers.
Now that the crush is real, I have an earnest fear of what may come out of my mouth if I’m flustered. I ramble and I try to fill the silence when I’m uncomfortable, which will happen if I’m alone with Henry. If that happens, who knows what I will say. I’m a different person when I'm nervous and being around him is incredibly nerve-racking.
Unfortunately, my days of avoiding him are over. Bertha—my lovely, yet ancient car—decided to crap out on me which means it had to be taken to an auto shop. It’s partially my fault, I should have known better than to buy an old car off Facebook Marketplace when I got here. So now, I’m stranded. I tried to call Maren, but she’s at work, meaning she’s in the lab and isn’t looking at her phone. I would have Nathalie pick me up, but she had the late shift at work. She won’t get out until 7:30 P.M., and I really don’t want to sit at this auto shop for four hours. I looked at Uber, but the cost to my apartment is over fifty dollars, which seems absurd. Considering I only know two other people in Seattle, and one is a douchebag, I was left with one option.
Henry.
I had all my fingers and toes crossed when I called, hoping he would have practice and I would just have to bite the bullet and pay for the Uber. I do not trust myself in a confined space with that man. One whiff of his cologne and I’m dust. I’ll crumble under the weight of my feelings and then do something stupid, like kiss him. I need to stay far, far away until I can put my feelings into a box and toss it into the middle of the Pacific Ocean. But the universe has other plans. It just so happens that Henry had an early morning lift, and he can come pick me up.
Yay…No worries here. I am totally not sweating through my deodorant.
Sitting in the auto shop lobby, I’ve decided that my best plan of action to avoid accidentally blurting out my feelings is to prevent myself from talking as much as possible. If he asks a question, I'll just grunt a response. My knee moves up and down as I wait for Henry to arrive.
It’s only a ten-minute drive.
It’s going to be a test of my strength.
Five long minutes later, Henry pulls into a parking spot. I gather my belongings and haul them to his car. Spotting me with arms full of items, Henry hops out of the driver’s seat and grabs some of the load. I falter a step as he moves towards me. He looks good.
Freaking. Fabulous. Just what I need. It wouldn't kill him to look bad sometimes, for my sake.
His hair is still wet from practice and his skin has that workout afterglow I can never manage to achieve. When I work out, I look like a squashed tomato. The grin he aims in my direction makes my heart flutter and I rush to throw my things into the back seat of his car, avoiding getting too close to him.
“Jeez, Sawyer. Did you have your whole apartment in your car?” he teases, throwing my belongings into the back seat.
I smile, sliding into the passenger seat of the car. So far, so good. I haven’t had to say a single word. I can do this. I start to fiddle with the vents to occupy myself. Henry gets back into the driver’s seat, puts the car in reverse, and heads in the direction of my apartment. We sit in comfortable silence, and when I start to believe I might make it out of the car without having to speak, he decides to ask me questions.
