Page 41 of Collide
IS THIS HOW normal people feel? Because being stress-free is peaceful and terrifying all at once. Currently, everything is on track, and there’s an empty stress shaped hole in my stomach. It feels too good to be true, like I’m forgetting about a fifty-page essay that’s due tomorrow.
I’m packing my bag when I see Amara’s sparkly dress and heels to match. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“Ready?” My brain runs into overdrive. “For what?”
She groans. “Do not tell me you are skipping plans to study. Unless you’re aiming for the hot tutor look, in which case, I’m totally digging this.”
I recall that Amara and Cassie had talked me into going to a concert tonight. “Shit, I forgot about the show.”
“I will fight you if I have to. You are not going to the library tonight.” I have a feeling that’s not an empty threat.
“I’m going over to Aiden’s, but I can cancel.”
She perks up with a grin that shouldn’t be that mischievous for what I’ve told her. “Cool, have fun then.”
I pause mid-text. “You’re not mad?”
She chuckles. “It’s Aiden fucking Crawford. Why would I be mad? You know who would be mad, though? Like half the student body.”
She’s right, but if they knew our time together is spent filling out assessments and analyzing data, they would opt out. “What are you talking about?”
“The texts. The frequent visits. Not talking to any other guys. You’resointo him.” There’s a teasing note to her voice as if we’re in the sixth grade and I just admitted I have a crush.
“For someone so smart, you’ve completely misread this situation.”
She raises a brow. “You’re telling me you haven’t even kissed him?”
“No, I haven’t.”
Her forehead creases with concern. “Are you feeling okay? Poor judgment? Pooreyesight?”
“He’s the subject of my paper. That’s it.” I haven’t ever thought about kissing him. Okay,evermight be a stretch because his lips were right there when he pressed me against the locker room shower, and they were pink and plump and—never mind.
“Mhm, is that why you study him all night long?” She emphasizes her words by running her hands down her body.
“I'm not doing this with you. Have fun at the show.”
“I will. You have funstudying.” Her snicker follows me out the door like an annoying fly. On my way to Aiden’s house, I try not to focus on her words, which is easy when Aiden lets me in, and Kian and Dylan are arguing in the kitchen.
“It was 2017, you dimwit.”
“Are you kidding? ‘17 was Detroit. It’s ‘16, ask anyone,” Kian turns to Aiden. “Cap, who won the winter classic in 2016?”
“Montreal,” I murmur, removing my coat. Three pairs of eyes land on me before I realize my mistake.Crap. “I think?”
After an uncomfortably long minute, Kian looks up from his phone. “No, you’re right, Sunny.”
The spotlight only gets brighter with each passing minute. That was the year my dad played the winter classic, and fourteen-year-old me stood with my mom to cheer him on. Aiden’s eyes are calculating, almost like he’s trying to figure out a riddle.
Instead of saying anything, he takes my coat and hangs it on the rack. “We’ll be upstairs.”
I walk up the steps, and when I reach for the door, I falter. Stepping back, I bump into Aiden. He looks from me to the door. “What if you have a sushi girl waiting for you this time?
He rolls his eyes. “You’re a brat, you know that?”
I’m grinning at his unamused expression. “It’s a valid concern.”
He opens it and pushes me inside with a hand on my back. “Not a fan of sushi on women, unfortunately.”
