Page 14 of The Other Half

She pops her eyes open and they meet mine. I’m tempted to break eye contact but I don’t, instead I slide a little bit closer to her and reach my arm around her shoulder. I feel like I’m on autopilot, not quite in control of my actions. I can’t read what she’s feeling right now, but she isn’t pulling away.

I touch my forehead to hers and dip my eyes to her full, plush lips that are the prettiest shade of rose pink I’ve ever seen. I breathe in the sweet scent of her skin that’s reminiscent of honeysuckle, tangled with the strong smell of chlorine from the water.

She’s looking up at me expectantly, but hasn’t moved a muscle. It’s like she’s frozen. I can feel her soft, tiny breaths fan over my lips. I want to crash my mouth over hers, taste her. I lean in just a tiny bit, expecting her to give me some indication that she’s feeling what I am, but her face is still completely unreadable.

I hear a rustling from somewhere behind me and I twist around suddenly, pulling my arm away.

“It’s okay, it’s just Johnny,” she says in a husky tone.

I clear my throat, still caught up in the moment we just shared. “Johnny?” I squeak out.

She exhales a throaty laugh. “Our cat.”

“Oh. Johnny, the cat, of course.” I take a deep breath and slide a few feet away from her. What the hell am I doing? I have to get out of this damn hot tub immediately.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom,” I announce, pulling myself out of the tub. Hopefully my trunks aren’t tenting too visibly.

“Oh, okay… It’s right down that hall and to the left,” she says soberly.

Chapter 15

Oakley

Once again I’m left in Oliver’s wake, wondering what just happened. I could’ve sworn we were about to kiss, but then how would I know that? I’ve never been kissed before, so I’m not even sure what the signs are. But I thought so, I felt like he wanted to.

When he put his arm around me I felt like my heart was about to burst right out of my chest. His perfect, pillowy lips were about an inch away from mine. Pretty sure I stopped breathing for a whole minute. And then he just…leaves? Did I do something wrong? I’m embarrassed, but I’m not even sure why.

Finally he returns from the bathroom, looking as casual as ever. How does he do that? I try to match his blank expression.

“Do you want to do something else?” I ask, noticing that he’s put his shirt back on.

“Uh, sure.” He sounds bored. I’m tempted to just ask him to leave before the night manages to become more awkward.

I step out of the hot tub, trying to cover my body as best as I can while wearing next to nothing. Dumb, stupid girl. What did I think was going to happen? He’d be attracted to me? I should have known better than that.

I throw my red polka-dot cover-up over my head and pull it down my body, then I slide my feet into my soft, toeless house slippers. I see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore him and walk out of the room towards the kitchen. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that moment affected me.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat?” I ask without turning around to face him.

“Yeah, that’d be cool, thanks.”

When we reach the kitchen I start digging through the pantry for snacks. We have every health food known to man but not much in the way of teenage boy snacks. My mom is really into all that organic, non-GMO stuff. “We have…blueberries? Hummus and crackers? Carrots and ranch?” I look up to see him still staring at me, it’s making me slightly uncomfortable. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

“Blueberries sound good. And some water, if you don’t mind.”

We sit down to eat next to each other, but he doesn’t say much, instead he nearly inhales the blueberries.

“Would it be cool if I had some crackers, too? Just a couple?” He asks, almost begging.

“Of course, please help yourself to whatever you want.”

He looks apprehensive still, but gets up and starts rummaging the fridge. Grabbing the hummus, along with some cheese cubes, grapes, and some deli meat I forgot we had.

“If you’re hungry I can make us some real food?” I offer politely.

He looks up, looking suddenly embarrassed, “I’d hate for you to do that for me, I don’t wanna get your dishes dirty and all…”

“Please, I like cooking!” I respond cheerfully. Truthfully, I’m not a great cook, but now I’m worried that this might be the only chance at having dinner that Oliver will have tonight. When I visited his house I wasn’t really sure what to expect, I knew it would be quite different from mine, but I wasn’t expecting to see what I did. His room was around the size of my closet, and the whole house couldn’t have been more than 600 square feet total. I don’t think they even have heat or air conditioning, all I saw was a small fan on his desk.

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