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Sort of.
I figured I could bide my time while he sorted his stuff out and not have it so… all up in my face. Not havehimso all up in my face. Because the ache of wanting him to be ready, to tell me what he’d figured out and try again, was killing me slowly. Without the weighted fact that I loved him being stacked on top of it.
“You know…” Sydney cut into my thoughts, and the tone of her voice, paired with the mischievous curve of her brows, told me she was up to something I didn’t want any part of.
“But do I? Want to know?” I quipped.
Leaning over, she bumped into my shoulder with hers. “Shut up. You want to hear everything I have to say. That’s why we’re best friends.”
“Um, that’s debatable,” I said, and she shoved into me even harder, forcing my façade to crack, and I snorted out a laugh. “Okay, okay. What’s up?”
“We never got to put my plan into action.”
“What pla—” Oh. That plan. “Neil and I are just friends, Syd.”
She gave me a pointed stare, like it was the stupidest thing I’d ever said. And yeah, okay, it was the stupidest thing I’d ever said.
“That’s why you’ve been mooning over him all day,” she deadpanned, and that shut me up for half a second.
I straightened my spine, glaring at her. “Mooning?”
“Just calling it like I see it.” She popped a Cheeto into her mouth. “Anyway… if you did—hypothetically—want to win him back, we could totally put some of my earlier ideas into play.”
I scoffed. “I’m not carrying around a Bible to look more wholesome, Syd.”
“But—”
“Or wearing a cross. Or showing him my boobs. Or getting baptized, or ignoring him, or trying to date his best friend—”
“But they’re great ideas!” she shrieked.
“No!” I yelled through my laughter. “They’re horrible ideas, hence the reason I never used any of them.” Not to mention the fact that I was leaving the ball in his court. Neil could shoot his shot when he was ready. My plan was to simply keep moving forward. (Easier said than done.)
“And look where that got you,” she snarked.
And…ha.Yeah. I didn’t need an ASL class to know how to tell her to fuck off in sign language. I threw my middle finger up in her face.
She was lucky I didn’t strangle her.
“Let me make it up to you!” she shouted across some rando’s house party later that night.
“Nope. No thanks,” I ducked out the back doors and made my way through the backyard to the fire pit. Dropping into an empty chair, I kicked my feet up onto the bricks that surrounded the fire.
A few seconds later, Sydney plopped into the seat next to me. “Just hear me out, okay?”
I let out a whiny groan. How she’d convinced me to come out with her tonight was lost on me. (Kidding.I knew exactly how she’d gotten me here—she’d nagged and nagged andnaggeduntil I finally gave in.)
Whatever.
It was better than sitting at home, diving down a rabbit-hole of Netflix documentaries.
Or was it?
I thunked my head back against the lawn chair and rolled it against the material until I was facing her. “What do you want, Syd?”
She perked up. “Distraction—” I opened my mouth to interrupt her, but she held a finger up in the space between us. “Not that kind of distraction,” she continued. “Me.”
I raised my brows at her meaningfully, a smirk tilting my lips.