Page 42 of I Would Stay Forever
If you had told me the two options were Dean paying enough attention on the few occasions I picked up food with him and Sebastian to know my order or Zoey secretly telling him my order so he could impress me, I would have put money on the latter. But one thing I’d learned about Dean Graham was that he was a liar. If Zoey had told him, he would have owned up and made a joke about it, not lied about how well he knew me.
“So,” I said when we began to eat a few minutes later, “did you only insist on taking me out today because I’m wearing a way too small uniform and you thought you’d get lucky?”
Dean choked on his burger. I grinned to myself then took a sip of my milkshake so he wouldn’t notice it. I was joking, of course, but it was fun for him to think I was being serious.
“What?” he asked between coughs. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve never bought me lunch before and now today I’m wearing this.” I gestured up and down at my uniform, which was ridiculously small and tight on me. “It just seems possible that the two events are related.”
“They are definitely not related!” he said in a strangled voice. He chugged his drink while I bit my lip to stop laughing. “I mean, I guess they are related since you’re only wearing that because you were late this morning, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the reason that I invited you.”
“Uh-huh.” I just kept staring at him, popping a chip in my mouth. It wasn’t that I really believed that was the reason. I figured that he probably just saw that I was having a roughmorning, and he wanted to make it up to me. But he was just so ridiculously easy to tease, and I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. “So you’re not in love with your best friend’s little sister?”
“Definitely not,” he said immediately, his face as red as a tomato.
Suddenly, I regretted asking the question because the firmness in his voice made me feel weird—like there was no way that he could ever like me. Even if I knew that we could never be together, it would have been nice to know that he was at least somewhat interested. That I wasn’t so repulsive to him that he would never imagine it.
“Lavender, that’s not what I meant,” he said, suddenly sounding panicked. “You’re?—”
“Don’t worry. I know what you mean,” I interrupted, not wanting to hear whatever excuses he was going to trip over to explain how that wasn’t an insult. It was my own fault for caring, anyway. I wasn’t supposed to be interested in him, and if he’d said something to me like that last week, I would have responded withgood because I would never fall in love with you either. But I couldn’t say that with a straight face anymore.
“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked. I shrugged. “Do you really care if Sebastian knows we’re spending time together?”
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by the question since I’d made that exact point as a reason for why I shouldn’t be sitting here right now, but I didn’t expect him to bring it up.
“Why?” I asked. “Do you not?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. He’s my friend, so I don’t want to make him upset, but…”
“But he doesn’t control who we get to hang out with.” It was something I’d been thinking about last night after the chat about it Dean and I had in the library. We’d both been tiptoeing around Sebastian so he wouldn’t know it was each other we were spending time with, but why? Before last week, I couldhave told myself it was because Sebastian and I weren’t on great terms, but things had been better since he promised me that he wouldn’t get back together with Tiffany. If there was ever a time to tell him I’d started hanging out with his best friend, it would be now. And yet…
“Do you think he would care?” Dean asked. “I know he’s been weird about you hanging out with his friends in the past, but maybe this is different. Maybe if he knew what happened in the summer?—”
“No,” I said firmly. Dean opened his mouth again and, without thinking, I pressed my hand to it to stop him from speaking. It was a strangely intimate gesture that I regretted pretty much as soon as I did it, but pulling away like he’d shocked me would only make it weirder, so I committed to it. “If you wanted to tell him what happened, you should have done it in the summer. It’s too late now.” I let my hand fall, but I kept my eyes on his as I took a deep breath. “Besides, I think it was the right choice not to tell him.”
His brows furrowed. “You do?”
I’d had a lot of time to consider the other ways it could have gone. I’d long wondered if Sebastian and I would have been on better terms in the summer if he’d known I wasn’t the one who confronted Dad. But then I considered how he would have reacted if he knew that Dean had been the one to do it and the only ending I could imagine from that as them not being friends anymore. He’d been weird around me for weeks, but he couldn’t cut me out completely when we lived together. The same couldn’t be said for Dean—it would have been all too easy for Sebastian to stop talking to him altogether, too blinded by his hurt to be able to forgive him.
“It was for the best,” I said. “He and I are back on good terms, and he has no idea you were involved at all. Don’t rock the boat.”
“Backon good terms?” Dean asked, and it sounded like this was news to him. “Were you not before?”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Sebastian might not confide in Dean about everything that was going on at home, but then again, I hadn’t told my best friends either. Maybe we’d all been holding the truth in.
“There was a rough period after Dad left,” I sighed, avoiding Dean’s gaze.
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have told him it was me right away.”
“Nobody said that was the reason.”
“But it was, right?” he asked. I didn’t want to lie to him so I stayed silent, but that was probably even more telling. Dean groaned. “Damn it, Lavender.”
“It’s over now,” I reminded him. “Don’t waste your time worrying about it. Sebastian and I are getting along and we’re all used to Dad being gone now.”
I ate another chicken nugget so I had an excuse not to talk. Dean, luckily, didn’t argue with me. We sat in silence for a minute as we both continued to eat, until he looked at me with a small grin on his face.
“What?” I asked suspiciously.
