Page 44 of No One Else
“No.”
She doesn’t recoil like I expect her to upon my confirmation, her expression turning thoughtful instead. She asks quietly, “Then why did you say you did?”
On this, I won’t answer her. Can’t answer. How can I even begin to explain it to her? It’s going to sound so stupid.
I look down at the table, tracing a pattern in the scarred wood. This table’s been here my whole life. I’m pretty sure these divots are from about fifteen years ago when I thought it would be fun to try and stab it as many times as I could with a fork before Mom could grab it from me.
Her hand reaches over to cover my own. I glance up, her eyes kind as they meet mine. “The closest I can figure,” she says, “is you were trying to make things easier between us.”
I pull my hand out from under hers and drop it in my lap. “I lied to you. I don’t deserve your kindness.”
“Why’d you do it?” she asks again in an even tone.
“Because I’m selfish, okay? I didn’t want you to be partners with anyone else.” I run my fingers through my hair, leaning further back in the chair. “I wanted a reason to be close to you, so you had to talk to me.”
I cross my arms over my chest, trying to get comfortable, but I can’t. “Things felt awkward. So I told you something that would make it seem like you didn’t have to walk on eggshells around me.”
She looks back at me steadily, no hint of what she’s thinking on her face. Damn, she’d be a good poker player. Or interrogator more like. She somehow has me confessing things I had no intention of doing today. “I never meant it to turn into an ongoing lie. I just wanted to go back to the way it had been before.” I drop my head to my chest, defeated. “Before I opened my big mouth and said anything at all last semester.”
The kitchen is silent, the only sound that of the television in the living room and Dad’s occasional commentary on the game.
Natalie clears her throat. “So you just want to be friends again?”
“Yes.” That’s all I can hope for at this point.
“Do, um, you still feel the way you did? What you told me before?” Her voice is questioning, unsure. So unlike her normal, confident self.
I look up to find her eyebrows pinched together, a worried expression on her face. God, how can I lie to her even more?
“The last time I told you how I felt you freaked out on me.”
“I think my actions were justified under the circumstances.”
I nod, looking away again. Is this the end of even friendship between us?
“But things are different now.”
My eyes snap back to hers, unsure I heard her right. “They are?”
“Yeah. I’d just ended a three year relationship. I’d always thought of you as a friend. But lately... you’ve become more than that.”
I hold her gaze, swallowing thickly. There’s a tickle in my throat, like I need to cough, but I keep it at bay. I can’t interrupt the moment with this damn cold. “What am I now?” I ask, holding my breath.
“I don’t know exactly,” she admits. “But I’d like to find out. Knowing you don’t have a girlfriend.”
I stare at her. Holy fuck, is she saying what I think she is?
She gets up, taking the empty soup bowls her and my dad must have eaten off the table, bringing them over to the sink. “But right now, we need to focus on getting you better.”
I continue to stare, her back to me as she washes out the bowls. Now that she’s broken the tension, I can breathe a little easier. But her words still run through my head. She thinks of me as more than a friend. And if I heard her right, she wants to explore this thing between us. How did I get so damn lucky?
I’m in no condition to do anything about it now, though. Three sneezes let loose again in rapid succession.
“Eat up. I need my Marketing teammate back.”
I pull my bowl toward me, the lukewarm soup soothing my throat. “We both know you have the whole project planned already.”
“Shh,” she smirks, glancing at me over her shoulder. “Don’t tell my project partner that.”
