Page 28 of Before We're More Than Friends
Both of us shook our heads, which was surprising because I thought Kami would use any excuse to flirt with him more. That was what she used to do with Greg when she had a wicked crush on him.
It would’ve been nice to at least know about what happened with them, but Kami’s business was unspoken business.
“Cool.” Oliver put his hands on his sides. “When are you guys going to start volunteering?”
“On Sunday,” Kami said. “And then we start school on Monday at April Springs High.” She brushed her hair back. “I’m a senior, and Dallas is a junior.”
“Oh, cool.” Oliver nodded. “I’m a junior there, too.”
My nerves settled a little. At least I knew someone who’d be going to our school and might have some classes with me. Not that I minded being alone. Toby was the only non-animal I had ever been close to begin with. Other than Chloe—Oh, gosh, I didn’t even want to think about that. She hadn’t messaged me since Friday night, and it was no surprise why. Isucked.
“Hey, our school is having an event that our shelter is sponsoring on Saturday,” Oliver said. “All my friends and I will bethere. And there’ll be a lot of great food. Italian food, seafood, desserts, you name it.”
“That sounds fun,” I said, though going to events didn’t sound anywhere near fun. Standing awkwardly in the corner while music blasted so loudly I wouldn’t be able to hear my own thoughts? Hard pass.
“I’m so coming,” Kami said as she squeezed my hand. “We’re coming.”
Do I have to?I asked with my eyes.
Kami didn’t need a verbal reply. “If Oliver’s going, we already have enough of a reason to come.” She flashed Oliver a flirty wink.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t have any plans to kiss Oliver at the back of the school. You can have him.”
“Dallas!” Kami’s cheeks flushed again before she stormed into the bathroom like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“Well, sheesh.” Oliver put a hand to his chest. “You could’ve just said you’re not interested.”
I snorted. This guy was awesome. “I’m sorry Kami is a little, um, eager. She’s going through . . . adjusting to changes.” I bit my lip, relieved I caught myself. Oliver didn’t need to be introduced to the world of Kami and her unspoken business. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet.
“Understandable.” Oliver nodded. “But don’t worry, I think you’re both cool. But I’m still offended by what you said.”
I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “No apologies.” I just hoped that neither Kami nor I messed anything up before we could get a chance to enjoy ourselves.
Kami didn’t talk to me during the ride home. She sang along to the songs that played on the radio, swaying her head back andforth as she drove. It was no coincidence that the songs she sang along to the loudest were love songs.
Girl really had lost her head in Vegas. Well, twenty minutes away from Vegas.
When we got out of the car in our driveway, I noticed the boy with a head full of dark braids on the porch next to our house. He strummed his acoustic guitar, singing lyrics I wasn’t familiar with. His voice was high and beautiful, like something out of a musical, but calming and soothing, like the lullabies my mom used to sing to me when I was in preschool.
“But I’m sitting here, singing a song that nobody knows. The birds fly away. . .” He kept strumming the guitar, but his eyes dazed off to the sky as he bit his lip.
Instead of heading toward the front door, I made my way over to his porch instead. “Hey.” I gave him a smile, though I was unsure of what I was doing. I never went up to strangers, especially ones who were clearly occupied. Had I lost my head, too? “I-I like your song.”Not the most awkward thing I’ve said to random people on their porches. Good job.
The boy’s deep brown eyes, a shade darker than my own, met mine. He sighed and gave me a small smile back. “Thank you. I usually come up with something better, though. Are you a songwriter, too?”
“Oh, I used to be. I haven’t tried writing a song since I was thirteen.” I gave an awkward laugh, playing with my sleeve. “I just noticed that you were struggling with your lyrics a bit.” I fought an urge to groan. Right, Porch Boy wanted songwriting help from some random kid who hadn’t written a good song since . . . ever.
“Yeah. I used to be able to come up with lyrics on the spot, but now nothing comes to me easily.” He looked at some cars passing by before strumming his guitar again. “The birds fly away . . .”
“And the cars leave me on my own,” I sang back, in tune with his melody.
His eyes lit up as he grinned. “That’s not bad. And you have a beautiful voice.”
My cheeks grew warm, and I looked down at my shoes. “Thank you. Um, I’m Dallas.” I pointed to our house. “We’re your new next-door neighbors.”
“Oh, yeah, I noticed the moving truck a few days ago. My parents helped yours.” He reached out his hand. “I’m Hayden.”
“That’s a cool name.”
