Page 84 of Organized Chaos
I realized it fairly quickly after our courtship began. The way he triednotto stare at an attractive male and his fluidity with touching me. If you had sexual chemistry, there were nerves and anticipation when you got cozy with the person. It was easier to be affectionate when there was no attraction.
I watched him closely to understand. After all, New York City was open-minded and accepting. His parents might initially be reluctant, but they were loving people and would eventually accept him.
It seemed to be an intrinsic issue, not extrinsic.
Chris wasn’t ready to come out, nor was he prepared for his life to drastically change. He was a jock and an involved member of the church. He had carved out an identity for himself, one he wasn’t set to bid goodbye to.
Despite being from a humbler background, it didn’t diffuse Chris’ popularity with girls. He struggled to fend them off but could only do it for so long before rousing suspicion. Chris wasn’t threatened by me as he subconsciously associated my nerdiness with being a non-sexual person.
Meanwhile, I was heartbroken after going through my fiasco with Brandon. I redirected my love toward someone who needed it to get through a difficult hump. Although platonic, love was love. We kissed—no tongue—to say hello and goodbye. And I was his friend who didn’t mind being his beard, fending girls off while Chris came to terms.
Other than Gabby, Chris had become my closest friend and helped me move on. Plus, his presence appeased Raven’s paranoia.
Raven’s attitude changed considerably after meeting Chris. She used to text me every fifteen minutes if she knew boys were within my one-mile radius. If I was with Chris, she texted me in hourly increments.
He was a big guy and could easily ward off horny boys. But most importantly, I had zero sexual chemistry with him.
Chris was Raven’s dream boyfriend for me.
I unlocked my phone and tapped on his name. He picked up on the first ring. “I was just thinking about calling you. Happy Friday.”
I smiled. “Hello to you too.”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Calc homework.”
“Exciting,” he said dryly.
“Isn’t it? I’m also working on my Econ paper. And if I’m feeling really frisky, I might even prep for my AP Bio test.”
Chris laughed. “How about I turn your exciting weekend into a boring one?”
“Hmm... I don’t know.” I picked up my pace as the cold air beat against my face. “What’s more exciting than Calculus?”
“You’re right. I can’t compete with math homework, but if you want to take a break, come over this weekend. My parents invited you to dinner.”
I would have screeched to a halt from the unprecedented suggestion had the wind not been knocked out of me. I collided against a hard mass and staggered backward. Two hands grabbed my waist, saving me from the concrete. I couldn’t see the culprit as my scarf blew in every which way, blocking my vision.
The stranger steadied me by running two hands down my sides with firm strokes. It was an awfully intimate touch. Their presumptuous nature caught me off guard until I recognized the familiar rainforest smell.
“Fuck,” I muttered, mouth slightly parted.
“Mia,” Brandon addressed gruffly.
As soon as I heard his deep voice, I imagined covering my ears and screaming at the top of my lungs to drown out the sound. Every instinct screamed for me to make a run for it, to get away from him before he could inflict more damage.
I was on the path to reformation. Life had given me an olive branch to turn things around, and Brandon was here, like clockwork, to fuck it all up.
No more.
This obsession with Brandon Cooper was my downfall, and he had tormented me for the last time. I stared at him like he was the evil spirit I needed to ward off, wishing this was a figment of my imagination even though his hands on my waist dictated otherwise.
“Hello?” Chris’ voice reminded me that I was still on an active call. The phone dangled loosely in my hand. “Mia, are you still there?”
I shook my head to expel the unwelcome thoughts. “Y-yeah,” I managed to croak into the receiver. “Sorry, um...” My mind went blank as I tried to process Brandon’s presence.
Unlike last time, he was clean shaved, and the unruly dark hair was tidier. His attire—black t-shirt, blue jeans, bomber jacket—was one I remembered from my childhood.
