Page 12 of Choosing Her
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked coldly, storming up to him. Crossy looked at me with a smile on his face, then back at Bourbon, who was leaning into his touch—the traitor.
“Getting to know my new best friend,” Crossy said. “I think she likes me.”
“She likes everyone," I said. I forcefully pushed him aside with my shoulder so that I could grab a hoof pick and started her post-ride groom. “What do you want?”
“You know,” Crossy said thoughtfully, “your hair looks really good in that braid.”
I self-consciously ran a hand along the loose French braid that was hanging down my back. Braids were the easiest way to wear my hair under my riding helmet, but today, I’d only done an extremely loose one that was already coming undone. Pieces of my brown hair had been falling in my face since I took the helmet off, and it probably made me look like a mess. I wondered whether that was the comment he was trying to make, without saying it—or was he actually complimenting me?
“Thanks,” I muttered.
I turned my back to him as I began cleaning out Bourbon’s hoofs, but I could feel him still standing behind me. He continued standing there as I cleaned out all her hooves, then grabbed the curry comb next. Was he really going to stand therethe whole time I groomed her? I started brushing her on the opposite side of her than he was, hoping he would catch the hint, but he didn’t walk away.
“Was there something you needed?” I snapped. He sighed and walked around Bourbon’s front so he could see me. I made a point of keeping my eyes on her, instead of him.
“I was wondering if you had reconsidered the whole tutoring thing.”
“You mean in the two hours since I saw you? No, I haven’t. Bye.”
I didn’t really expect him to walk away, but I had to admit that I was a little annoyed when he didn’t. I tried to focus on Bourbon and pretend that Crossy wasn’t anywhere near me, but it was hard when his noisy breathing was all I could hear. Not to mention that he seemed to be absent-mindedly petting her, even though I’d all but told him to back off.
“I was wondering…” He trailed off as I turned to look at him with my best glare. It gave me a sick sense of satisfaction to see that it was enough to make him re-think whatever he was saying. But it wasn’t enough to make him go away, apparently. “I was wondering if there was anything I could do to change your mind.”
“No,” I said shortly. “There isn’t.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie—the only thing that might convince me to go through with this was something he had no control over. It was the idea of the future, of what my parents might ask of me next, that was making me question my hasty rejection. Even though they were thousands of kilometres away, my parents were still able to control my every move—just like always.
I moved to the other side of Bourbon to keep brushing her and Crossy followed, cutting way too close behind her. I was torn between warning him that he was within kicking range and notwanting to give him anything, even that. The decision was made for me as he made his way around, unharmed.
“Saylor, please,” he said. I heard the pleading in his voice and I kept my gaze away from him, not wanting to see the pleading eyes he’d been giving me in his coach’s office earlier. I would not buckle to Caleb Cross’s puppy dog eyes. Not today. “I’m desperate, okay? I have to take the next level of this class next semester and I can’t do that if I fail this semester. Without it, I won’t graduate.”
I slowed my movements and looked at him curiously. “If you need to take both, why didn’t you take this class last year?”
That was the way he was supposed to do it. The class they’d asked for my help in was a junior year class and Crossy was a senior—a year older than me. The only reason we had English Lit together was because it was open to juniors and seniors alike. Why would he be a year behind in math?
“I did,” he said, which didn’t clarify anything. “But… Well, I was in London, you know?”
I pressed my lips together at the reminder. He probably didn’t have any time for math while he was in London, because he was too busy gallivanting around the city with my sister. And now he seriously had the audacity to askmefor help? Was he out of his freaking mind?
“Saylor,” he said again, and he put a hand to my forearm. And suddenly, like that, I wasn't standing in the stables anymore. I was sitting on the washing machine, taking a long sip of coke as the cute boy in front of me told me his name was Crossy. I wished I could go back in time to that moment—to relive the good times or to stop myself from even having that first conversation, I wasn’t sure.
I yanked my arm away, stopping the memory in its tracks. I hated that he could do that to me. That every touch remindedme of that wonderful night, full of promise and future plans that came crashing down when he walked away.
“Please,” he said, his voice sounding more genuine than I’d ever heard it. It was like I could see the walls in front of him coming down with each word. “I know you don’t like me, Saylor. I know there’s probably nothing I can do that will make up for the way I hurt you this summer. So, I’m not asking you as a friend but as a fellow student—I need your help.”
I stared at him, my mind at war with itself. How could I say no, when I knew this was his only chance? But on the other hand, how could I say yes—knowing that every moment I spent with him, I would be remembering the way it felt to have his lips on mine or the stomach-dropping moment when I first saw him in the summer? Would we actually be able to get anything done, if I was busy thinking about those two polar opposite moments that defined our relationship?
I sighed, resigning myself to my fate. “You’re sure there’s nobody else?”
“We’ve been looking,” Crossy said. “Ever since I switched into the class. We thought my grades from last semester was high enough to get into the grade twelve class but…” He let out a harsh breath. “Saylor, please. There’s nobody else. I’m begging you—heck I’ll get down on my knees right now, if you want.”
I watched his hand as he grabbed at his wavy brown hair, then my eyes drift toward the muscles that strained against his long-sleeve shirt. He didn’t look so different than he had that night, back when I had no idea who he was or that I was giving him the power to ruin me.
“I have one stipulation,” I said.
“Anything,” he replied immediately.
I took a deep breath. “Naomi never finds out.”
