He stands between my legs and shoves his hands in his pockets. His brows are furrowed like he’s in deep thought. He’s being quiet tonight, too quiet. Like before quiet.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask, pulling him closer by his
belt loops.
“Alec’s taking Melanie to prom . . . and Tyler’s got his
eyes on this junior.” I wait while he figures out what else he’s going to say.
He clearly wants to say something. “Angela and Embry are doing something, not
sure what exactly . . . do you—if you want . . . we can—I’ll figure something
out to pay for it.”
“Masen?”
“Hmm?” He’s not looking at me, his gaze is fixed on a child
learning to ride his bike.
“I’m not a prom person.”
“Oh, okay, I . . .” He’s fidgeting, fingers wiggling in his
pockets. It looks kind of silly actually.
“Hey,” I say, drawing him down by the hem of his shirt. I
kiss him gently, and he sits beside me, legs wide, head in his hands. “I’m
serious. I don’t really dance. I would for you – in fact, I have – but I
don’t—I don’t really care about that stuff. I’d rather hang out with you doing
nothing than get all dressed up for the prom.”
“Yeah?” He peeks up, eyes full of concern.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“So what’s Angela doing?”
“Oh, some not-prom thing, I guess.”
“Well, can we crash that?”
Masen shrugs. I’m sure we can. Angela loves company. I’ll
ask her tomorrow.
Masen still looks so forlorn, the frown on his beautiful
face making me want to do something to get rid of it. I lean in and place a delicate
kiss on his neck. He wraps his arm around me, and I settle into his side, kissing
him. He’s spicy and sweet from the peach salsa and so delicious. I do my best
to convince him with my tongue that I really don’t care about prom. I think
I’ve succeeded, but when I pull away he slumps over onto the bench. He’s a bit
dramatic, it seems.
I tug him up by the forearm, placing his head in my lap to
run my fingers through his hair. He faces my stomach and kisses my belly button
through the thin cotton fabric of my shirt. “Thank you . . . for
understanding.”
“I don’t even want to go. Really.” We’re quiet for a minute,
and he strokes his hand up and down my ribcage. “Hey, you’re missing the
sunset,” I say, scratching his scalp.
“Don’t care. You’re all warm and sunsetty. Don’t need it.”
Chapter Playlist . . .
Chapter Picteases . . .
Masen's Notebook Entry . . .
I want to go to not-prom with Edward. These two are so incredibly sweet. They make me smile all the time.
ReplyDeleteI'm excited to read the next chapter.