Un•A•Were

8| Pinky Promise

Amanda's POV:

Over the course of the next month, I've been growing accustomed to Bryan's presence, but there's still some unspoken tensions. We've haven't discussed the Homecoming kiss, he hasn't asked me out, and he still seems a little distant. Not sure what that's about. Maybe he regrets the kiss? Maybe he is shy? Pfft...shy? One of the popular kids? Shy? I try my best not to overthink it as I remember my plan...enjoy senior year, but remain low key and unnoticed.

"Miss Young, can I see you for a second?" Mr. Randall, my choral instructor, belts out over the chorus sections practicing their parts.

"Uh, sure, what's up Mr. Randall?" I ask inquisitively.

"I noticed you didn't put your name down for one of the solo parts." He stares, waiting for my response.

"Uh...yeah, that's correct. You know- I - I just feel it would be better suited for someone else. There are plenty of better singers who would do a phenomenal job. I-" my voice trails as his stare gets more intense.

"Look, you and I both know how talented you are and you have sat in the back of the choir for three years now. It's your senior year and I was really hoping to convince you to take a solo part. It's perfect for your vocals. Ms. Bell and I both want you to sing this song." My breath hitches as I know I'm not getting out of this. "How about we make a deal?" He suggests.

"Deal, sir?" Not sure exactly what he means.

"You can stay "unnoticed", as you like to call it, for the Christmas performance, but you take the solo for the Spring Music Festival. I would also hate for this to affect your grade." He hints. Ugh! I'm dead!

"Okay...I'll do it." realizing there's no way out of this, especially since it's tradition for seniors to take these types of roles. They consider it a senior showcase.

"Perfect! I'm so excited! I'll tell Ms. Bell that we have found our soloist! We will discuss more details after Christmas break." He turns and walks to another group of students.

I walk back to my seat when I suddenly feel a presence next to me.

"So, what was that about?" Bryan asks, curiosity written on his face.

"Mr. Randall thinks I should take one of the solo parts in the Spring Festival since I'm a senior and it's customary for seniors to take those parts." I explain.

"Is that it? Makes sense to me." he says plainly. I feel my nerves and anxiety rise.

"There are better singers, Bryan. It shouldn't be based on class status." I deadpanned.

"Are you f*****g serious? Mandy...you are...by far...the most talented singer I've ever heard in my life! The first time I heard you sing, I thought my heart would burst out of my chest with how pure and passionate your voice sounded." my face turned a dark red with his confession. I felt his hand cup my cheek forcing me to look into his eyes. "I could listen to you sing for the rest of my life." There was such emotion behind his grey orbs that I almost couldn't stand the intensity, but I was overcome with the feeling of pride and appreciation.

"Thank you." I managed to choke out. I watch as a smile graces his face. I break our stare as emotions swirl in my brain.

"You're welcome. Never doubt yourself again or I will be forced to remind you every single day of your life." It was a threat that made my heart flutter. I shyly tuck my hair behind my ear trying to process what just happened between us.

I walk out of chorus desperate to get to the pool. We have a meet this weekend and now, with the added stress of preparing for a solo in the Spring festival and Bryan's words ringing in my head, I need to burn off some anxiety. I enter the locker room and notice many of my teammates are already dressing out. I slip past them and head to my gym locker. As usual, they don't acknowledge me. I try not to dwell on it or let it break my focus. I've got two days until our big meet and I need to shave some time off of my butterfly heat.

After changing, I head to the pool deck. Coach Smith is already dishing out lane assignments and drills. I quickly set my towel and coverings down on the bleachers and make my way over to the poolside. As I'm stuffing my hair into my swim cap, I hear my name.

"Amanda, lane 6, warm up, then butterfly arm drills." He barks. I knew that was coming. I walk over to lane six and begin to stretch. I start to get that feeling of being watched again, but don't see anyone that looks out of place. With an already overloaded mind, I can't add anything else up there. I take a step off the side and allow the frigid water to surround my skin. It never gets easy to acclimate your body to 65-degree water. I fix my breathing and begin my warm up laps. It doesn't take long for the stress and worry of the day to seep out of my body. The sound of the coach's whistle brings me out of my reverie as it's time to go to work. I begin my first drill and focus on my technique.

Two hours later, my entire body feels like jello. This is where my love-hate relationship with my sport comes in. It's satisfying, but exhausting. I exit the pool and say goodbye to coach. I quickly change, but don't bother drying my hair. I walk out of the locker room and run smack dab into someone's chest.

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" As I look up and see those familiar grey eyes. "Bryan? What are you doing here?" I ask, wondering why he wasn't at football practice.

"Coach gave us the afternoon off." He replies simply.

"Okay, but then, why are you here? At the pool?" I ask completely confused by his presence.

"Well..." his voice trails off and he rubs his hand behind his head and down the back of his neck, showing he's nervous. Why is he nervous? If anyone should be nervous, it's me. I wait for his explanation, but he seems lost on his own answer.

"Well....what?" I laugh, hoping to break some of the tension.

"Well...I came to watch your practice." He says shyly.

"You watched me practice. Okay..." I curl my lips inward and furrow my brows, trying not to be creeped out or laugh. It's kind of sweet, in a kind of stalkerish way.

"I know! I know! It sounds weird when you say it out loud, but I was just curious. I've never been to a swim meet or anything, so I know nothing about your sport and wanted to see what it was all about. Plus, I feel bad I haven't really been around to talk to you, especially after the homecoming party. I wanted to text you, but didn't know if that would weird you out or not." He finally stops to take a breath. I can no longer contain my laughter and my chuckles echo off the walls of the aquatic center.

"You're kinda cute when you ramble!" I see his shock turn into a beautiful to-die for smile.

"Would you like to grab some dinner with me?" He politely asks making my laughter die off as my hand stifles my remaining giggles.

"Sure." I smirk as we head down the hallway and out into the parking lot.

Once we reach our vehicles, he tells me to follow him to the local diner. I nod and climb into my Jeep. He revs up his forest green Dodge Charger and heads toward downtown. I call my mom on the way and tell her not to make me dinner.

"Oh okay...you picking something up then?"

"Not exactly. I have a date." I say with a sheepish grin.

"Wonderful dear! And who's the lucky boy?"

"Bryan Tiller"

A brief silence before an excited response on the other end of the line. "I knew it would be him." My mother exclaims.

"Huh? What are you talking about mom?"

"Nothing sweetheart. Go go go! Go and have a great time! I'll see you later."

"Okay mom! Bye!" Shaking my head at her silly response. We pull into the diner parking lot and head to the front steps. He holds open the door and allows me to walk in first. I'm surprised when I feel his hand on the small of my back almost guiding me inside. It feels...nice.

"Just take a seat anywhere you two. I'll be right over to take your order." The waitress says from behind the counter. Bryan grabs my hand and leads me to the corner booth. I take the seat with my back to the door and he slides into the seat across from me. There's comfortable silence until our waitress, Yvonne, steps to the table.

"What can I get you?" She says, glancing at the two of us. Bryan looks at me to go first.

"I'll have the chicken wrap with an order of fries and a chocolate milkshake. Please and thank you." I say and then look back across the table at Bryan.

"That sounds good. I'll have the same except make my shake vanilla," he smiles at the waitress politely.

"Comin' right up!" As she takes our menus and heads back to the kitchen. The diner is relatively empty, but I don't mind as the quiet is peaceful.

"Vanilla, huh? How boring?" I try my best to break the ice and start the conversation.

"Yeah, I'm allergic to chocolate so I guess I'll have to avoid sharing shakes with you." He chuckles.

"Excuse me, sir, one simply does not share a delicious diner shake. Pfft, as if!" I fain being insulted. Bryan belts out a full belly laugh which is probably the cutest, and sexiest, thing I've ever seen. It's also very contagious and I can't help but join him.

"No! I guess you don't! My bad for assuming you would share!" An easy silence once again spreads between us. "So you have a meet Saturday, correct?" He asks.

"You would be correct. Why do you ask?" My curiosity peaked.

"Well, I thought I would come and support you. You came to watch me play during the homecoming game, so I'd like to repay you" he says shyly.

"You don't have to do that! I would hate for you to be bored!" I exclaim.

"Why would I be bored? Watching you swim was pretty magical." He states.

"Magical?!" I try to contain my laughter while raising an eyebrow. "That's what you're going with? Magical?" I question. Slowly but surely my laughter slips out as I am truly tickled by his description. "I'm sorry I don't mean to laugh, but that's the funniest damn thing I've heard in a while." I place my hand over my mouth to try and stifle the noise. He chuckles, but doesn't let my laughter deter him.

"Okay, I was trying to be nice." He smirks. I feel his hand grab ahold of my knee, squeezing until my laughter erupts and I inadvertently hit the underside of the table. Luckily, our drinks and food hadn't arrived, yet. "Oh! I knew it! You are ticklish." As a wicked smile crosses his face.

"No, no please!" As I try to stop laughing. "I'll stop teasing you, I promise." Lifting my pinky finger above the table. "Pinky promise!"

"Oh, now it's serious. You know what happens if you break a pinky promise?" I look at him curiously. "You get ten times the punishment. You sure you want to pinky promise?" He waits for my response while slowly creeping forward toward my finger.

"Yes, yes I do." I smile as he latches onto my finger with his own pinky. He lays our entangled hands on the table, but doesn't release his grip on mine. My heart pulses faster and these damn butterflies begin their rise, fluttering around my stomach. Why does he make me so nervous? We have a simple, but wonderful conversation until our food arrives. It isn't until then that he releases my hands. The rest of the dinner went "magical" for lack of a better word.