Page 67 of This Kind of Forever
“To Ethan.” I look back at the group and find our classmate laughing at something Connor said. “I heard him ask you out earlier.”
“Oh.”
I pick at the label on my bottle, avoiding her gaze. If I look at her, she’ll be able to see the envy in my expression, and that’s not fair. Knowing her, she’ll feel guilty for how I feel and do everything in her power to make it better. Even if it means saying no to a date she really wants to go on.
“No, I don’t think so.”
I look at her now, surprised. “Why not?”
“You think I should?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “If you like him, you should go for it.” Even if seeing them together would fucking gut me.
“I…don’t want to go out with Ethan.”
“You don’t?”
She shakes her head. The words are on the tip of my tongue—the urge to ask her who shedoeswant to go out with. If maybe that someone could be me. But, like always, I chicken out.
Still, the relief is overwhelming. I like Ethan well enough, but I’m sure as shit not sorry Hallie doesn’t have a thing for him. Maybe that makes me a shitty person, but I don’t care.
I drain my bottle, then set it on the ground and push to stand. Holding a hand out for Hallie, I say, “Come with me.”
She blinks, her long lashes fanning against her cheeks.God, she’s so fucking pretty. I have to stop myself from actively staring at her, but I could easily do it all day.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Trust me?”
She places her hand in mine and lets me pull her to her feet. “I trust you, Gabe.”
Hand in hand, we start across the yard, back toward the house. The party continues behind us, everyone too engrossedin themselves to notice that we’re gone. I expect her to pull her palm out of mine, but when she doesn’t, I tighten my grip. She squeezes back in reply.
The house is dark when we reach it. Our parents are away, and Luke is who knows where. He took off after unloading the beer our sister convinced him to buy for us, which leaves me and Clara home alone for the night. I’m grateful for their absence, because I know I wouldn’t have had this opportunity with Hallie otherwise.
I lead her into the living room and gesture for her to sit on the couch. Then I walk over to the shelf in the corner and pull a DVD case from it.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“You’ll see.”
I queue up the DVD and then I join Hallie. She keeps watching me as I grab the remote and turn the TV on. When the opening credits to10 Things I Hate About Youbegin to play, she shakes her head.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.
I’m surprised the disc isn’t scratched to hell from the amount of times that Hallie and Clara have watched it, but I’m thankful. Thankful for anything that puts that content expression on her face.
I turn to look at her. “Happy birthday, Foster.”
She smiles. “Thank you, Gabriel.”
Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, I drape it over our laps. Hallie shifts, trying to get comfortable. I hold my arm out, letting her settle against my side. She does, then lets out a little sigh.
Tell her how you feel.
I want to. So many times, I’ve thought about saying the words. Laying it all out. But there’s risk in that. If I tell her, Idisrupt the careful balance we’ve been maintaining for years. Is it worth it?
Yes.
