Page 34 of I Would Stay Forever (Parkhurst Prep #2)

twenty-one

Wednesday was easily the most chaotic day of my week. I had school, volleyball practice, and a meeting with Dean for the project. I was practically dead on my feet by the time we were packing up our textbooks in the library.

“Are you going to Sebastian’s soccer game?

” Dean asked as I stood up. I froze. With everything going on this week, I’d completely forgotten tonight was Sebastian’s first match.

I glanced at my phone for the time and sighed as I realized it was starting in less than twenty minutes.

There went my plans to get a burrito for dinner then pass out as soon as I got home.

“Are you?” I asked him.

“Of course.” He swung his backpack over his shoulder and we walked out of the library together.

Because we’d both had team practices after school, we were practically the last people in the building and I wasn’t worried about anyone spotting us.

The only other people who might be around were those here for the soccer match, but they would all be outside. The school felt like a ghost town.

“I guess I’ll drop my bag off in my car then try to find my sisters,” I said.

I pulled the scrunchie out of my hair, sighing in relief as the tension on my scalp eased, and raked my hands through my hair.

I was slowly getting a headache, but hopefully it wouldn’t hit entirely until the game was over.

“I’ll come with you,” Dean said. “Might as well sit with you guys.”

It was a completely innocent offer, and not something out of the ordinary, but after the past few days, it felt like a much more loaded proposition.

I had half a mind to tell him no, but then I’d have to explain why—and what excuse could I give other than that I was worried my family might realize how close we were getting?

It had only been a day since I reassured him I didn’t care what Sebastian thought. How would this look?

“Great,” I said.

It was easy enough to find Ainsley, Imogen, and my mum in the crowd of spectators at the match, although the crowd was huge—soccer may not have been a huge sport at every school, but it was at Parkhurst Prep.

It rivalled football in popularity, a fact I frequently teased Dean about.

Ainsley and Imogen were fully decked out for the game in blue and silver, along with Sebastian’s jersey number written on their cheeks.

When they asked why I hadn’t done the same, I lied and said I came straight from volleyball practice and didn’t have time, not wanting to admit that I’d forgotten all about this.

None of them batted an eye at the fact that Dean and I were walking up together, probably assuming we’d run into each other in the parking lot.

If anybody noticed how stiff I was sitting next to Dean for the whole game—noticing every time he accidentally brushed my leg or flushing whenever he whispered something in my ear, innocent as the words may be—they didn’t say anything.

Before I knew it, the game was over and I was being dragged out for dinner, with Dean coming along of course.

“To Sebastian’s first win of the season,” Mum said, holding her glass up in a toast. We all raised our glasses as well, Ainsley and Imogen cheering a little bit.

Sebastian looked away bashfully, but I knew he liked the attention.

Even the waiter recognized our school colors when she came by, telling us that she was a Parkhurt Prep alum herself and offering us dessert on the house to celebrate when Mum told her that Sebastian was on the team.

“I bet it’s going to be a no-loss this season,” Imogen announced as we were eating dessert. Sebastian elbowed her in the side.

“It’s only the first game,” he reminded her. “Don’t jinx it.”

She just stuck her tongue out at him, showing off the chocolate on her teeth, although I did think he had a point. The moment you put something like that in the universe, it was destined to fall apart.

“Nah, I think she’s right,” Dean said. He was sitting across from Sebastian, which meant he was right next to me, and I was painfully aware of it.

Just like always, half my attention was taken up by my noticing him—his foot brushing mine under the table, how he had to lean down next to me when he dropped his napkin, and his arm that was casually draped on the back of my chair as if he wanted to put his arm around me but knew that he couldn’t, so he got stuck halfway.

Logically, I knew he didn’t actually want to put his arm around me, but it was hard for my brain to recognize that whenever his fingers brushed my spine.

Every little incident that I’d had with him over the last few weeks had been building up until suddenly he didn’t look quite like the same Dean I always knew.

“Well, what about you then?” Sebastian countered. “Think the football season’s gonna be no losses?”

“No chance,” Dean snorted, and we all laughed.

“See? He knows it’s a jinx,” Sebastian said, pointing a finger at him. “He knows that if he says it’s going to be, then he’s gonna lose next week.”

The first football game of the season was supposed to be on Friday, but it was announced today that the other school had to back out.

That might have been part of the reason the turn out for the soccer match today had been a bit heavier, as everyone knew it was the only match they would see this week.

“How’s the football team looking this year?

” Ainsley asked, leaning forward and cupping her chin in her hand.

She looked at him the same way she looked at Sebastian: staring at a big brother with all the awe in the world.

I wondered if Imogen felt the same way—and whether I should too.

But I guess they hadn’t had the regular pleasure of seeing him walk around his house shirtless through their window, so it was hard for them to know what they were missing out on.

As Dean answered their question, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and I sneakily pulled it out, hoping Mum wouldn’t notice because sometimes she could get on our case about having phones out at the table.

Zoey

Did I see you sitting with Dean at the soccer game today??

Yesterday’s lunch date really paid off huh?

It was followed by about five of the side eye emojis. I rolled my eyes, then checked that nobody was looking at me before I texted back.

Lavender

He is my brother’s best friend you know

And yesterday was NOT a date

Zoey

Suuuuuuure it wasn’t

I saw how close you two were sitting tonight. That was not a brother’s best friend type of sit.

Lavender

I don’t even know what that means

“Who are you texting?” a voice asked in my ear.

I jumped and dropped the phone. It would have clattered to the floor if Dean wasn’t fast in catching it.

Somehow, nobody else around the table seemed to notice the commotion.

Dean slipped my phone back into my hand, then raised his eyebrows, clearly reminding me I hadn’t answered his question.

“It was just Zoey,” I whispered back. There was no way I was going to tell him what she’d said, but I knew he was going to ask, so I added, “She was just wondering if Parkhurst won the football match tonight.”

He scoffed at my use of football instead of soccer but didn’t comment on it, nor did he comment on the obvious lie about Zoey.

He knew as well as I did that she would never text me about something so boring.

And a moment later, Mum announced that it was getting late and we should probably head home, stopping Dean from asking anything else if he was going to.

“Which car do you two want to drive in?” Mum asked the twins, who were the only two without their own cars.

It was the least cost-effective way for us to get here, but since Sebastian, Dean, and I had all driven to school separately and then Mum had to drive the twins to the game, it was how it turned out.

Imogen immediately came to my side, saying that Sebastian drove like a maniac and she couldn’t do that a second time in the night. I laughed.

“You just don’t appreciate how fast I get us from point A to point B,” Sebastian said.

“I appreciate being alive,” Imogen countered.

“I’ll go with Sebastian,” Ainsley said. “We can race home.”

“Does it count as a race if you know you’re going to win?” Imogen asked.

As we started out into the cool night air, Imogen and Ainsley each hooked an arm through mine, so we walked in a line to the cars.

They were both stumbling into me while I walked in the middle and tried to stay upright rather than knocking back into them.

You would think they were drunk the way they were acting, but they were just happy.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them in such good moods, but I knew it had to be before Dad left.

When we got home, I was too exhausted to do anything but just head straight upstairs and collapse.

My bed was beckoning me, but I knew that the moment I lay down, I wouldn’t be getting up again, so I sat in the chair by the window instead, taking a moment to relax before I got ready for sleep.

I hadn’t sat there with a plan to watch the Novak’s house, but it was hard not to notice the moment Dean’s bedroom door opened and the light turned on.

My eyes locked on Dean’s figure standing in his doorway. He was looking over his shoulder, chatting to somebody—Nora or his parents, I guess—and pulling off his jacket as he did so. A minute later, he stepped inside his room fully and kicked the door closed behind him.

I always felt a little bad spying on him like this, especially since he never seemed to look into my room—either that, or I just never noticed.

Our houses weren’t quite matched in height, with his window being slightly lower than mine so I assumed it was because it was more natural for me to look down toward his room than for him to look up.

I wasn’t sure if I’d feel better about spying if I knew he did it too, or if I would just keep my curtains closed all the time.

He pulled his shirt off next, then disappeared in the direction of his closet, which wasn’t visible from my window.

He walked back into view a minute later, now dressed only in pyjama bottoms. I was so used to his evening routine by now that I knew he would be leaving to brush his teeth, which he often did wandering around, coming in and out of his room a few times.

He surprised me, though, by sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling out his phone.

I watched him curiously, the way his dark hair fell on his eyes, a slight hunch of his shoulders as he sat down, the way he was looking at his phone with single-minded focus.

I wondered who he was texting. A girlfriend, maybe?

Sebastian had never mentioned Dean having a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean she didn’t exist. I hoped it wasn’t that though because the mere thought of him having a girlfriend made my stomach twist painfully.

I wished I could ask him, like he’d asked who I was texting in the restaurant, but how could I when he didn’t even know I could see him?

I waited a couple of minutes longer before I felt like I was a Peeping Tom staring in on his life, and I closed my curtains.

I went through my whole nighttime routine, trying to push any thoughts of Dean or what he was up to out of my mind.

I collapsed on my bed and went to plug my phone in—something I’d been careful to do after the horror of yesterday morning—and quickly scrolled through my notifications in case there was anything important I missed.

Zoey had answered my text and I’d missed a FaceTime call from Molly while I was at the soccer match, but the notification that really caught my attention was more recent than any of them.

Dean

Thanks for hanging out with me at the soccer game today. Would have been lonely without you

I glanced at the time. Ten minutes ago . If I’d been looking at my phone instead of watching him and worrying about the idea of him having a girlfriend, I would have received it immediately.

I stared at the text for a lot longer than I should have, my heart pounding in my chest. I read it twice, as if that would change anything, then I read it a third time, looking for any subtext I might be missing.

My first instinct was to send it to the girls and get their opinion, but that would mean telling Zoey she was right in what she’d been thinking and then she would be insufferable.

Not to mention that she was going to think this was romantic no matter what because she wanted us to get together, even if Dean just meant it in a friendly way.

Even though I’d just gotten comfortable lying down, this took precedence, so I forced myself to my feet and crept back over to the window. My curtains were still closed, and I didn’t want to be too obvious by opening them up again, so I poked the middle open just enough to be able to glance out.

Dean’s room was empty as far as I could tell, but his phone was on his bed. I couldn’t see it clearly from here, other than the fact that the screen was lit up and still open to messages, like he’d left it there just waiting for me to respond.