Page 96 of Fostering Chemistry
“I know that, but like… I figured we should talk.”
“And it’s going great so far.”
He shot me an annoyed look. “Could you not?”
I held up my hands in an apology. “Okay, but I still don’t know what you think we’re supposed to do about it. We each get a certain number of days to talk to her? We can take turns asking her out until she says yes to one of us?”
The glare looked out of place on Aaron’s usually serene face. “We all live together. This could become a problem.”
“Not for me.”
“Because you don’t like her or you just don’t give a shit?”
All right, he was clearly getting heated. And while I didn’t share his concerns, I didn’t want to antagonize him further. I didn’t have enough friends to be piss one off, though I seemed to do that frequently, anyway. “I hear you, but I don’t see how there’s anything for us to do. If you want to ask her out, go for it. If she wants to go out with you, she’ll say yes. Problem solved.”
“Don’t you want to ask her out, though? It shouldn’t be a matter of who asks first.”
“It’s not. She’s a big girl. She can make up her own mind.”
“Not if she doesn’t know there’s a choice.”
“Look, probably she thinks of us both as just friends. Hell, maybe she’s got a crush on Raymond. Talking about it doesn’t change anything.”
Aaron nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. But he stood, clearly seeing that he wasn’t going to get what he needed from me. Most people came to that conclusion fairly quickly.
“I’ll let you get back to your music.” He vaguely gestured around my room which looked a bit like a used instrument store. “I’m going to talk to Diego about it. See you.”
“See you,” I echoed. I was absently staring at a spot on my carpet when he left, but then my brain kicked into gear. He was going to talk toDiegoabout this? Why the fuck would he do that? The dude wasn’t our dad or our brother. And I liked the guy overall, but he was smart in some ways and clueless in others.
I had a sinking feeling that this was going to fall into the latter category.
“There she is,”Diego said as Mia limped her way across the backyard, Aaron holding onto her arm like she was going to collapse at any minute. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she said, blinking in the sunlight. We all had jackets on, but otherwise, it was pleasant out here. She seemed to think so, too. “It’s nice to get some fresh air.”
What she didn’t say, and what we were all wondering, was what the hell we were doing out here. I suspected Diego had chosen this spot for lunch for privacy reasons, but I hadn’t seen Jenna, Evan, or Raymond all day, so it seemed dumb not to use the dining room. Fewer leaves falling in our food.
We took our seats as Aaron unpacked the large white bag he’d brought with him. First thing he opened up was a Styrofoamcontainer of chicken noodle soup. “For you,” he said, putting it in front of Mia with a flourish.
She smiled. “Thank you, but I’m not sick.”
“Chicken noodle soup will help you stay that way,” Aaron said.
“I’m not sure that’s scientifically true.”
Aaron laughed. “You and Cody are the ones taking the chemistry class, so I’ll bow to your authority.” I snorted. Mia had felt well enough to attend class today, but it was such a long walk that we’d compromised. I’d propped my phone up on the desk next to me, facing the professor so that she could watch the lesson from home. Then I’d happily resumed ignoring Dr. Beringer. Listening in once this week had been enough.
Aaron continued to pull out a random assortment of containers. The logo on the bag was from a high-end deli I’d passed by but never ventured into. Too rich for my budget.
I ended up with a Mediterranean grain bowl that looked decent. Colorful and fairly well-balanced. I took a bite, chewing slowly. The chicken was okay—maybe a little dry. Not marinated long enough, probably. The quinoa had flavor but was a bit too chewy. Probably undercooked.
Grudgingly, I had to admit that it was nice out here. The sun was high in the sky. The remaining leaves in the trees held on valiantly despite the wind. The food was decent, if not spectacular. Yet I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who was as uncomfortable as hell.
Diego was quiet as he ate. He somehow gave off the impression that he was sitting at the head of the table even though it was a square folding table with equal sides. Aaron kept trying to drawMia into conversation but got short answers in return. She didn’t look pissed, just… wary. As if she, too, knew that Diego hadn’t just randomly thought that today was a good day for a picnic.
As if reading my mind, he set down the rest of his sandwich and said, “It’s a nice day.”
Brilliant opening line, dude. But we all nodded.
