Page 178 of The Compass Series

Carlton and I sat frozen in place, unsure of what we were supposed to do. Did Cara even notice us? Doubtful. We weren’t hot, popular, or rich enough to be on her radar.

“Welcome.” She smiled, and her dimples deepened as she crossed her legs and leaned in closer to Aiden. “So I’m having a party next weekend.”

Aiden nodded. “Cool.”

“You should come,” she said nonchalantly.

“Who, me?” he asked, pointing at himself.

“Yes, silly, of course.” She poked his chest with her finger, and his skin didn’t bounce back a lick. All rock-hard body. I probably stared too long at his chest in amazement.

“Give me your cell phone,” she ordered, holding her hand out toward him. He didn’t because I think he was stunned at the unfolding situation.

“Aiden”—Cara snapped her fingers—“your phone.”

He shook his head, coming back to reality, and grabbed his phone. He placed it in her perfectly manicured hands, and she gladly typed her cell phone number into his contacts.

Then she placed it back in his grip, stood from the table, and gave him her teeth-whitening-commercial perfect smile.

“Okay! See you Saturday. Normally, it’s bring your own booze, but don’t worry.

I have a VIP section with your name all over it.

” She winked at him before bouncing away. No, really. She bounced.

Our table of three stayed quiet.

Our eyes darted back and forth with one another until Carlton said, “So was that a group invite, or…?”

It wasn’t a group invite. Carlton and I weren’t famous enough.

After school, I found Aiden surrounded by people at his locker. He was smiling and talking up a storm, but I saw the slight trembling in his hand as he tapped his pinkie finger against his leg. His invisible golden retriever tail was not wagging. It was between his legs.

I went into full-blown bodyguard mode. I dashed toward him, breaking through the sea of bodies.

I wrapped a stern hand around his wrist and pulled him around the corner, yanking him away from the crowd.

I slung the janitor closet open and pushed him inside, shutting the door behind us.

I pulled the dangling string attached to the light on the ceiling and lit up the space.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Saving you.”

“What?”

“You’re having a panic attack.”

He blinked a few times, looked down at his trembling hands, and nodded. “Oh.”

I knew my best friend inside and out. I knew when he felt overwhelmed by such small changes in his body language. Most people missed his slight transitions, but I could read that man like a book. He was my favorite novel. One I’d repeatedly reread if given the chance.

“You don’t owe these people any part of you, Aiden.”

“They’re being nice.”

“They’re being gremlins who are trying to suck you dry. Stop talking. It doesn’t help. Just breathe.”

He lowered his head, and I took his shaky hand into mine to steady it. We stayed there for ten minutes, not talking. Sometimes words didn’t help a situation. Sometimes you just have to let time pass on by.

“We’re going to miss the bus home,” he mentioned.

“It’s fine. We can walk. Look at me.”

His blue eyes rose, and they didn’t look as overwhelmed anymore. He was coming down from the intensity of being bombarded by people all day long.

“You’re good,” I told him.

“I’m good.” He cleared his throat and brushed his hand against the side of his face. “Can I walk you home now?”

I nodded.

He held the door open for me, and after I stepped out of the closet, he followed.

“I know you’re too nice to tell people to leave you alone, so I just want you to give me permission to throat punch anyone who crosses your boundaries,” I said.

“I don’t think throat punches are needed.”

I frowned and patted him on the back. “I know. That’s because you’re painfully sweet.”

“Are you really good friends with Carlton?” he asked me out of nowhere.

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s nice.”

“Is he? Or were you just lonely last year?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “He just rubs me the wrong way. He’s always trying too hard to win people’s approval. Do you know after lunch, he tracked me down to offer me money if I’d get him into Cara’s party? It’s weird.”

“He’s quirky.”

“There’s quirky, and then there’s desperate. He also has a crush on you.”

“What?” I laughed. “He does not.”

“Yes, he does.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because not only did he try to pay me for a party invite, but he went on and on about how he was into you.”

It almost amazed me how the idea of Carlton didn’t make my emotions do anything at all, but if Aiden’s arm brushed against mine? Butterflies. Every single butterfly.

I shook my head. “Boys don’t have crushes on me.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m me.”

“That’s exactly why Carlton likes you. Because you’re you.”

I shrugged. “He’s not my type.”

“Oh? And what exactly is your type?”

You.

Then you.

And maybe, on Sundays, you.

Whoa.

Where did those thoughts come from?

The palms of my hands grew sweatier, and I clenched them into fists as I said, “I told you. Timothée Chalamet.”

He smirked, and I felt his smile deep within my heartbeats. “That’s it? No one else?”

“Nope.” I picked up my pace as I tried my best to shake off my nerves. I couldn’t look him in the eyes because he could read me the same way I was able to read him. I couldn’t allow him to take in the new development chapter about the odd sensations I felt whenever he stood around me.

Besides, whatever I was feeling for Aiden was a temporary thing. It had to be. He was my best friend, after all, and I would never want to jeopardize that by, oh, I don’t know, falling in love with him.

Still, I thought about it a little. Okay, I thought about it a lot. I thought about what it would be like to fall in love with a guy like Aiden. They were pointless thoughts, though. I’d read enough romance novels in my life to know how those things went.

Guys like Aiden ended up with girls like Cara. Never with girls like me. I was forever going to be the best friend side character, while Cara received my leading hero.

Aiden upped his pace to keep up with my strides. “So about that party…”