Page 97 of Chaos

“Don't remember saying that.”

Up go the corners of his mouth, but there’s nothing happy about it. “So youdowanna kiss me.”

“Are you having a stroke? I’m trying to make thingsnotawkward between us. Stop making it difficult.”

That not-smile fades.

“Nothing is awkward from my end,” he claims, helies, he changes the subject. “Where am I dropping you?”

Class fucking dismissed, I guess.

Averting my gaze out the windshield, I point at the first building I see. “There’s fine.”

If he’s curious as to why I so desperately needed a ride to a random greasy spoon a whole town away, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t comment at all. He’s dead silent as he pulls up to the curb, he doesn’t even look in my direction, and as my feet hit the pavement, I wonder if the raw, weeping part of me I left behind will stain the passenger seat.

As I slam the door, I hope the bang makes him flinch. I hope it pisses him off. I hope he’sfuriousbecauseI’mfurious becausewhat the hell?He’s really going to be like that, silent and sullen and sulking? I wouldn’t kiss him so we’re just… done? Or is it the opposite, is he thatdisgustedby the prospect, is he so damn ashamed that he almost committed such a heinous act, he can’t even look me in the eye? Does he think I might throw myself at him if he doesn’t keep his distance?

It’s ridiculous. It’s irritating. It’s hurtful, if I’m being completely fucking honest, becausehe’sthe one who wanted to bemyfriend so badly.He’sthe one who threw himself atme, who carved a giant freaking space for himself in my life. For once, I haven’t actually done anything wrong, and I don’t like being treated like I have.

Fuck that. Fuck him.Go fuck yourself, I turn around to hiss when my name suddenly leaves his mouth, but I don’t get the chance, he cuts in first, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

I laugh. Acrid and hurt. “Why? So you can punish me some more?”

Finn makes a noise like he’s tired of this, tired ofme. “What are you talking about?”

“You snapped at me earlier.”

He blinks, incredulous. “You always snap at me.”

“Butyoudon’t. And now you also don't talk to me, you don’t look at me, you don’t—” I suck in a shaky breath. I feel… not okay. Small. Bordering on hysterical.Triggered. “I am not forgettable, Finn. You don’t just get to act like I don’t exist because I hurt your fucking feelings.”

He gapes at me. Actually gapes like he cannot believe what he’s hearing, and then he stretches across the front seat to reopen the passenger side door. “Get back in the car, Lottie.”

I do no such thing—I plant the sole of my boot against the crimson red metal and kick the thing closed. Through the open window, I all but scream, “You’re so fucking full of shit, you know that? And I am so clueless. I actually thought you wanted to be my friend, I thought you were being nice just to be nice, but you weren’t, were you? What,” I let loose another awful noise that matches the awful thought that suddenly assaults me, “was it all just a ploy to get in my pants or something?”

Finn jerks back like I slapped him. “Are you joking?”

I’m a lot of things. Joking isn’t one of them.

“You really think that’s what I was doing?”

“What the fuck else would it be?”

He opens his mouth.

Closes it.

And I’ve had enough.

“You know what,” I kiss my teeth to hide a much sadder noise, backing up and praying he thinks I’m shaking because of the cold. “I can’t do this. If this is whatfriendlyis, then I don’t fucking want it.”

Thick, grease-scented air immediately makes my skin sticky.

Without really thinking about it, I collapse into the nearest empty booth. Short, choppy breaths pinching my lungs, I swipe at my eyes, refusing to acknowledge that they’re not completely dry, and scowl out the window.

Finn is still there. Even through the rain, I see him clutching the steering wheel. He… he smacks it, I think. Once, then another time, before scrubbing the offending palm down his face.

I look away when a waitress approaches. Order black coffee and nothing else. Look back, and he’s gone. Swallow my disappointment, and find it tastes just as bitter as my beverage.

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