Page 74 of Tell Me When It's Over

“It’s not a big deal,” I assure him, taking the seat directly across from his, the towel still wrapped around me as the air peppers goosebumps against my damp skin. Picking up one of the tenders, I dip it into the ranch and grin when I see him make a face, since he thinks ranch on chicken is gross. “It was a really nice thought.”

He’s quiet for a moment, studying me while I eat. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but I wish he’d stop looking like he’s expecting me to cry. So what if Kyler forgot my birthday? Mia hasn’t so much as texted me either. They’re both busy with their own lives.

But… We made a pact. A silly pact that ended with my sixteenth birthday. I spent seventeen and eighteen not even thinking about the ways the Bishop siblings made my birthdays special with homemade cake, sometimes burnt and sometimes perfect, cheesy movies that made us all groan, and presents that always warmed my chest even if they tended to be over the top things that I didn’t need but loved because they were special. The less I thought about it, the less it hurt.

Today is the three-year anniversary of everything changing. Most girls love reliving their sweet sixteen, but mine was a nightmare. It turned into a day I wanted to bury and never think about again, but it never works. Knowing the two people who always made me feel special on this day have let it drift to the back of their minds hurts like a knife to the heart.

Nineteen shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not like eighteen when I’m legally allowed to vote, or twenty-one when I can legally drink. There’s nothing special about turning the big one-nine. I keep reminding myself of that, telling myself it’s not a huge issue that the Bishop siblings are doing their own thing for the day. After all, I’m with Chase. The boy who kissed me after our second date. The one who holds my hand and makes me feel wanted. I’m enjoying myself for the most part. Aren’t I?

Kyler has been busy with Gordy working on something that I’m ninety percent positive is new music, and Mia is going nuts preparing her house for the baby that’s going to arrive later this year. When I got up and went downstairs this morning, I’m not sure what I expected. I had hoped I’d walk into cheesy singing and big smiles, not an empty kitchen, or a text that said “be back later” with nothing else. No note and no “happy birthday” written anywhere.

“How’s work?” I ask, dipping my chin toward his laptop. I can’t keep dwelling on the things that make me upset. Chase has been sweet today and thinking about Kyler and Mia isn’t going to put me in a good mood. So, distraction mode it is.

Chase got commissioned to do some coding work for an up-and-coming business and from what he said, they paid him well. At least, that’s what he implied when he ordered takeout from a steak house that would cost me at least three paychecks at Delmar’s to cover the bill for.

“They’ve added to the list of things they want me to do, so it’ll take longer to complete than originally planned.” He shrugs. “It’s going fine though.”

Plucking a chicken tender for himself, he steals the honey mustard. I eat in silence while he explains some of the other work they hired him to do, and I smile when I see the light in his eyes get brighter the more he talks. He loves what he does, so I can see why Mrs. Matthews is content with his work. It reminds me of Kyler when he—

Don’t think about him.

“Are you ready for next weekend?” he as

ks, leaning back in his chair. It takes my mind off the current person my thoughts like lingering on.

Grinning, I reach for the bag I brought with me and pull out some papers I’ve printed since getting an email about the event. I show him one of the sheets with a wide smile on my face. The paper in front of me is highlighted in pink to show my three Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes. Yellow marks the two I have on Tuesday and Thursday. Orange is my adviser’s name, email, and office information. I was proud when I finished color-coding everything.

“You’re such a freak,” Chase teases, swiping the paper from my hands to get a better look at my organization.

“I like to be prepared.” I grab the paper back. He wouldn’t understand. For someone who basically runs his own company, he’s the most disorganized guy I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t file anything. He just tosses any paperwork he has on the desk in his room. The first time I saw him do it my eye actually twitched.

I’ve had my class schedule finalized for a few weeks now. The accepted student weekend is to get new students comfortable with the campus and classrooms. I get to meet a few of my professors, too, and I’m looking forward to seeing Marcia Adams, who owns a multi-million-dollar PR firm in New York City. She’s teaching Principles of Public Relations this semester before returning to the east coast, and I’m lucky enough to be in the class. My only hope is not to make a bumbling idiot of myself.

Mia and Kyler both offered to drive me to campus, but I agreed to have Chase bring me because I figured he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Plus, Ky told me that Mia would whip out a camera and take pictures to make a spectacle out of me finally attending college, and I believe it. She loves embarrassing me.

“Speaking of,” he presses. “Are you sure you don’t want me sticking around that day? I wouldn’t mind.”

I shake my head. “That’s okay. It’s going to be an all-day thing. I’ll just call you when I’m finished. Plus, you have the project deadline.”

His eyes roll at that. “Babe, you know I can finish this with my eyes closed.”

Babe. My skin prickles from the nickname he started calling me after a few weeks of seeing each other. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t sit well with me either.

We haven’t done much more than kiss, though there’s a lot of it, and some minor touching. Above the clothes and waist…mostly. The first time his hands lingered, we’d been in his room watching The Princess Bride, and his hand had trailed from where it was holding mine between us, to my hip, then my thigh, and when I finally gathered the courage to look at him, his eyes were asking a silent, is this okay to which my choppy breath had said, yes, even though my mind was screaming with a thousand thoughts that pulled me in different directions. I’m a constant pull of should I or shouldn’t I, a ball of nerves that tells me to step back, yet I don’t.

Not once had he tried taking off my clothes or pushing for me to, and I’m grateful. Whenever we’d start making out somewhere—his bed, the couch at my house when Ky was off with Gordy, here by the pool—he’d touch my breasts, trail his hands between my legs, but I’d always tense up. It’s not because I didn’t want to do more, because my body indicated I really, really did. It was my head that got in the way every single time things got heavier.

Like the time his shirt came off and he encouraged me to touch him wherever I wanted. His chest is trimmed, but not muscular like Kyler’s, and his waist doesn’t have that V shape like the youngest Bishop’s does. And when I touched him, his softness wasn’t like what I’d felt anytime I’d playfully swatted Ky or been carried to my room in a pair of strong, hard arms. I’d stopped anything from going further when my mind tainted my thoughts, replacing the boy who’d been hovering over me, touching me, kissing me, with a full grown, beautiful man.

Chase hasn’t said anything about taking the next step because he’s patient with me. We go to movies, dinner, he’s taken me bowling like promised with a reluctant Kyler and an excited Mia. Garrick even crashed much to my roommate’s dismay, but I secretly think he didn’t mind it because it took the brunt of torture off him since Mia and I ganged up on him a lot. He kept making weird faces whenever Chase and I hugged when we got a strike, and I even caught him scowling when Chase dipped down and pecked my cheek after I’d gotten a gutter ball, telling me, “Next time, babe.”

Ky hasn’t said anything more about Chase or the “rules” he threatened me with after the first time I went out. It isn’t like he avoids the elephant in the room because a large chunk of my free time has been spent with Chase instead of hanging out in my room or with Ky at the house. I miss it…miss him, and the few times we have been hanging out, he hasn’t acted like himself. Instead, he’s distant, robotic, like our conversations can’t pass the basic “how’s it going” and “are you happy?” which seems strange, except, I had to think about it. Really think.

But I am happy. More so than I thought I’d be if I’m honest with myself. And a big part of that is because Kyler seems to want this for me. Maybe even for him.

“Humor me,” I tell Chase. His eyes are sparkling when I ask, “Are you trying to use me as an excuse to procrastinate?” It wouldn’t be the first time. When we hung out together last, we were supposed to keep each other on task. I had to start my summer reading for one of my English classes, and he had a work deadline. Not even two hours in, he got up asking if I wanted something to eat. Before I even answered, he raided the kitchen and spent the next forty-five minutes cooking an entire meal for not only me and him, but Kyler to.

“Would you feel better if I said yes?”

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