Page 6 of Introvert
"Cute," he said.
Heat suffused my cheeks, but I doubted he meant it as a compliment.
"You with the band?"
"Maybe," I said then threw the question back at him. "Are you?"
"Maybe," he echoed.
"Oh. I guess that means we'll be seeing more of each otherthen."
One corner of his lips lifted at my morose tone. "Try not to sound soexcited. It'll inflate my ego."
I laughed in surprise.
"And shehas a pretty laugh.Good to know."
"Shehas a name," I said, ignoring his words—or trying to. I knew I wasn't special. He probablycalled everyone cute and pretty.
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" he asked.
I shook my head. "You first."
"Pretending not to know who I am. That's cute."
Therewassomething oddly familiar about him. Like I'd seen him somewhere before.But that couldn't be right. There was no way I'd forget that face.I wracked my brain, but I just couldn't place it.
"That's the second time you called me cute," I pointed out.
Ignoring this, he said, "So, are you getting on the bus?"
"Yeah, I was just about to," I lied.
"You want to walk together?"
It was a question and a challenge. I heard it in his tone and could see it in the smile playing around his lips.Almost as if he didn't think I'd do it.
"Sure," I said."Let's go."
Taking a deep breath, I walked past him and gave a mental hooray. I was doing it, chasingmy dreams. As he fell into stepwith me, smoothly, hardly making a sound, my brow furrowed.
"What were you doing under that tree anyway?"
"Hiding. Same as you."
"I wasn't—"
He shot me a look, and my mouth snapped shut.
We both knew I was hiding.There was no usedenying it. The thought that he'd been there as I tried to work up my courage was a littleembarrassing. But that wasn't what struck me.
"What could you possibly have to hide from?" I asked.
We'd almost reached the bus when he paused—then cursed.
Removing the sunglasses, he turned to me with the strangest look on his face.
Soft.