Silently, I pad my way down to the empty kitchen and gather ingredients for blueberry muffins. I set everything on the marble island and begin mixing a small batch. It’s a lame apology, but it’s what I have to work with.
Monday will be here before I know it. It’s bad enough I don’t know what I can possibly say through text that will feel real enough to matter. Whatever hurt her today will just continue to fester over the weekend.
Frowning at the bowl of ingredients I mindlessly filled and stirred on autopilot, I purse my lips.
Today, blueberry. Tomorrow, chocolate chip. Sunday, banana.
The world would be a better place if all apologies came in muffin forms.
Calypso
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m early to theater class, per usual. Lex still got here before me.
Even though I skipped coming in this morning to play the piano—just in case I ran into him before I was fully awake and able to process anything one-on-one—he still managed to find a way to be alone with me, for however many minutes it lasts.
He stands, his expression all at once serious. “Calypso,” he begins.
My heart tightens, and I look away, finding my way to my usual seat, right beside his new seat and where he’s standing. I slump into the hard plastic chair. “You’re here early,” I state, hoping I sound normal. Whatevernormalfor us is.
He sets a bag on my desk. Brown paper. I know what it means. A muffin offering.
It’s larger than usual.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
His words come soft and full, an overwhelming tide of too little and too much, like there are a hundred secret meanings packed into all he can manage to say.
I look up at him but can hardly hold his gaze for more than a moment. It’s too intense.
I spent all weekend in an endless cycle of spiraling. Kenneth isn’t real; Lex intended to hurt me; the moment he knew I’d been hurt, he apologized. His eyes in the moment when his façade dropped haunts me more than “Kenneth” himself.
He knows how much Kenneth means to me, otherwise he wouldn’t have acted the way he did at all. He had to know what he was doing, whether he knew how deeply it would cut or not. Hehadintended, at the very least, to manipulate me to do his bidding. He’d not hesitated to apologize.
It doesn’t matter. Whether he is only apologizing to save face or whether he means it doesn’t matter as much as the fact he’s been on my mind for three full days. Him.NotKenneth.
“Honest,” he adds in response to my silence. “I took things too far.” He scrubs his hand back through his hair, scratches the back of his neck. “You’re a bit like a force to me. Immovable. If you don’t want to do something, no matter what I do, you won’t bend. I didn’t mean to pressure you or insult you. Not genuinely, anyway. If that…makes sense.”
I hate that it does. Biting my lip, I reach for the paper bag and mutter, “An immovable force? What the heck, Lex? I’m just like any other girl. Acting in scene is one thing, but you can’t just do that stuff casually.”
What am I saying?
I may as well writeI’m attracted to you, so stop iton my forehead.
Three big beautiful muffins rest in the bag, and I gasp, almost forgetting my embarrassment. “Threemuffins!”
Lex chuckles, descending back into his seat. “Three apology muffins. I hope they’re sufficient. And noted.”
They aremaybesufficient. Unless pretending they aren’t will get me more. After all, I am just like any other girl. If I can hoard muffins, I have to. My brows crash low as the final thing he said registers, and I look at him. “Last time you saidnotedlike that, you still invaded my piano time. I get the feelingnotedfor you literally means you took note and intend to do nothing differently.”
He rests his cheek against his palm. “In my defense, I had intended to adhere to that note, but there’s something about you that’s too magnetic. I told you I would have left immediately had you asked again. I said so. You didn’t ask.”
Does calling memagneticnot count as casual flirting?
I take a breath and temper myself. Stupid. Lex flirts all thetime. The only thing we’re talking about isKennethand him no longer using the fictional character against me.
It’s my own problem if Lexas Lexis getting under my skin.
