Chapter Twelve
1181 Words
“I asked you a question, Garcia,” Tyler scowls.
I let the bottle of painkillers drop to the floor. “I thought you said come in,” I manage weakly.
“I didn’t.”
“Well, I heard something.”
A muscle ticks beneath his skin. “Did I not explicitly tell you to stay out of my way? And yet here you are in my bedroom.”
“I was going to apologize,” I blurt out, and an awkward silence settles between us. “For yesterday,” I continue even as heat creeps up my neck. “I shouldn’t have said that, about your dad being right. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Tyler holds my gaze so long that I start to feel uncomfortable. Finally, his eyes flick toward his bag again, and instinctively, I glance down too. His expression hardens. “Were you going through my stuff?”
“No!” I say quickly. “It was just… it was open.”
“Right.”
“I swear. It was peeking out of your stuff, and I saw… I was just worried.”
“I don’t need you to worry about me.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t.”
He barks out a laugh. “You think you know something about me because you saw my dad yell at me once? News flash, nerd, everyone gets yelled at by their dad.”
“That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair,” he snaps, stepping closer, “is you coming in here and acting like you and I are friends. You are nothing to me.”
The proximity steals the air from my lungs, and his harsh words make my eyes sting. But I can also see the exhaustion etched into his face, the faint shadows under his eyes, and the strain in the set of his shoulders.
“You’re hurt,” I say quietly.
He looks taken aback for a second, eyeing me as if I were holding a shotgun. “I’m fine.”
“Sophie says you haven’t been sleeping.”
“Stop,” he bellows.
My throat tightens. “I was just trying to…”
“Save me?” he interrupts. “Is that it? Add me to your charity list?”
“That’s not what this is!”
“Then what is it?”
I don’t have an answer, because I’m not entirely sure myself. What the hell are you doing, Lila?
He runs a hand through his damp hair, wincing when his shoulder protests. “You don’t get it,” he mutters.
“Then explain it to me.”
His eyes flash with anger. “You think this is optional?” he demands. “You think I can just decide not to play because I’m sore?”
“I think you’re hurting yourself.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
For a split second, an emotion I can’t pinpoint flickers too quickly across his face. “You don’t know anything,” he says quietly.
I glance down at the bottle on the floor. “How long?” I ask.
His head snaps up. “How long what?”
“How long have you needed those?”
The silence that follows feels dangerous. He takes a step toward me, then another, until my back hits the door.
“You need to leave,” he says.
“You’re not okay,” I whisper.
His breathing turns shallow and uneven, and his eyes darken. Slowly, he reaches up and his hand hovers just above my face.
I draw back, the back of my head hitting the door. Great, I’m trapped and completely at his mercy.
To my utter surprise, Tyler drops his hand and gently brushes it across my cheek. “Get out, Garcia, before I do something that we both regret.”
Heart racing, I turn around, yank open the door and run back down the stairs.
***
Hours later, I lie in my bed, staring up at the ceiling like it has answers to why my heart won’t stop fluttering madly. I can still feel his touch, like an imprint, on my skin…
My phone buzzes against my pillow, and I hesitate only a second before answering.
Maya’s face fills the screen immediately. She squints at me, the fairy lights on her wall glowing behind her. “Why do you look flushed?”
“I don’t,” I say too quickly. “I just got home.”
“At…” she checks the time dramatically “…nine forty-five at night? From babysitting?”
I shrug and roll onto my side. “It was a long day.”
Maya studies me for another beat, then flops back onto her pillow. “I feel like you and I haven’t actually talked in weeks,” she says.
Guilt pricks at me. Between school, saving for college, and Tyler’s house feeling like a live wire lately, I’ve barely had space to breathe, let alone hang out like we used to.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just been… busy with everything.”
Maya narrows her eyes playfully. “Or with Tyler?”
I groan and drag a pillow over half my face. “Don’t start.”
Her grin widens. “Oh my God, it is Tyler. You better spill, Miss Babysitter of the Year.”
“It’s not,” I protest. Then, after a pause, I add, “He’s just… not as terrible as I thought.”
Maya gasps like I’ve confessed to a felony. “I told you!”
“You did not.”
“I literally did. Remember when I said Alex isn’t like the rest of them? Well, maybe Tyler isn’t either.” Then she bites her lip in a way that instantly makes me suspicious. “Speaking of things changing…”
“Oh no.”
“Alex and I have kind of been… texting.”
I blink. “Alex,” I repeat slowly. “As in Tyler’s Alex?”
She nods, grinning so wide I can see all her teeth.
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“You’ve been busy!” she shoots back.
I stare at her. “That’s… wow,” I manage.
“Say you’re happy for me.”
“I am,” I say automatically, but my stomach twists anyway. I sigh. “Just be careful, okay?”
Maya rolls her eyes affectionately. “Relax, it’s Alex. He’s sweet.”
“I know, but things aren’t always what they seem.”
“Is that about Tyler?”
I look away from the screen. “I don’t know what it’s about,” I admit.
Maya smiles gently. “Well, whatever it is, don’t shut me out, okay? You’re allowed to have your dramatic football boy storyline, but I still exist.”
I laugh under my breath. “You’re so annoying.”
“And yet you love me,” she sings. “See you tomorrow.”
The screen goes dark, and my stupid brain goes right back to thinking about him.
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