Page 68 of Enemy Crush
“I’m not,” he said, taking hold of my upper arm and stopping me, a playful glint in his eyes. “I can still remember you saying it. It was last summer, a hot sweltering day in August. A Wednesday, I think. You knocked on our door and you were wearing a yellow sundress and were so fierce and brutal about our parcel getting delivered to your house.”
“I don’t even have a yellow sundress!” I butted in.
“Well, yellow, light yellow, with a pattern over it. It had thin straps and...”
“I’m pretty sure you’re making this up,” I said but my heart rate accelerated sharply as I recalled my short beige dress—it had yellow flowers on it. How was it that Miller could remember exactly what I’d been wearing on a day over a year ago?
“And you had your hair in a ponytail,” he said, his gaze now distractingly intense. His hand moved from my arm to the back of my head, resting on my bun. A tingle swept up my spine, then down it, every nerve awakening from his touch.
“We’re gonna miss the bus,” Mason said, marching past us, arms swinging at his side.
“Yeah,” Miller whispered, swiping a finger across my jaw before taking hold of my hand and following Mason.
The Fisher twins, dressed in matching Winnie the Pooh pajamas, asked how the potato harvest went and I let Milleranswer, still dreamily processing how he remembered a dress he’d seen me wear once when I barely did.
On the bus, Miller sat next to me and pulled on Austin the Avocado again. “So how many of these things do you actually have?”
“A lot,” I said with a giggle, “but not enough.”
“You collect them?” Miller asked.
I nodded, but unclipped Austin. “Here, have it.”
“No, it’s yours,” Miller said, shaking his head.
“I want you to have it,” I said, clipping it to his backpack. “Austin likes drawing aliens and dreams of living in outer space.”
“We have so much in common,” Miller said, flashing me a mocking smile.
“You might think of me every time you see it,” I said, returning the same expression.
“Believe me, I don’t need a Squishmallow to make me think of you,” Miller murmured, lowering his head next to mine, our foreheads touching. The connection was instant, a rush of warmth spreading through my chest, his words filling my heart.
And as improbable as this relationship seemed, I’d never felt anything so real in my life.
Miller acted a little different as we walked to our lockers, separating himself from me like we were just two people headed in the same direction. We swapped out our books and checked our timetables because after two weeks of harvest, I couldn’t remember mine.
“Hey, you’re back!” Elise came bounding up to us, and I almost thought she was going to bear hug me, but she went straight for Miller. “We missed you.” The embrace lingered and I could see Miller grinning.
“Okay, don’t suffocate me,” he said while Elise asked, “Hi Quinn, how did the harvest go?”
I waited until he’d been released before saying, “Oh, really good. I loved it.” And by that time, Brayden and Sienna were headed toward us.
“Miller,” Brayden said, shaking his shoulder vigorously like he hadn’t seen him for a year, “Miller...dude, I missed you.”
Sienna and I exchanged hellos and Brayden nodded at me. “So you’re officially a Spudder now,” he said, “you survived the harvest. And you’re dressing like one of us too.” My cheeks flamed as red as Miller’s shirt.
“She said she loved it,” Elise chirped.
“Yeah, I really liked it,” I said, offering smiles all round, wondering if any of them had heard my family rumors. The whole group had gone quiet, Miller included, and a sense of doom and gloom descended on me, like they were waiting for me to leave so they could gossip about the downfall of the Devereauxs. One thing to be known as Prep School Reject, another to be Poor Prep School Reject.
“Uh, I have to go to the office,” I said, my gaze meeting Miller’s for the briefest moment in time. I probably imagined the half smile on his face. Nobody stopped me, or queried why, or suggested meeting up later, and I trudged to the front office, a stone in the pit of my stomach, already hearing the whispers behind me.
Doubt crept in, and by the time I reached the office, it had swallowed me whole and the optimism from earlier completely vanished. I’d been swept away by the romanticism of Miller’s attention but really, he’d been the enemy and probably still was. What if this had all been a ploy, a master plan of playing nice and acting all friendly to lull me into a sense of false security, and then—wham—he was going to stick the knife in, play the final card to burn and humiliate me. Heck, he was probably telling his friends right now how my father had lost his business and we were too poor to afford prep school. He was likely telling themall about how my card declined over a cup of coffee. And in hindsight, it was plain to see Miller had ridden the bus to keep an eye on his brother, not to be with me. And his memory of my dress was likely a fluke because since his friends showed up, he’d acted low-key, standoffish even.
Gah, I was such a fool! An absolute fool.
A stupid, stupid girl in a flannel shirt. But one I didn’t want to take off.
