Page 68 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Tabitha is replying at almost midnight. I plant my hands on my hips as I continue to pace. It’s not unheard of. It’s not unusual for someone to be up this late on a Friday night.
I stretch my neck from side to side, enjoying the cracking sound. Well, she’s the ditz, right? The knots in my stomach twist their way up to my tightened chest. Yeah, girls like her are always on their phones.
I steal a look at my phone on the bed. The reply still hasn’t come through. My text probably came through as she was replying to a friend, and she tapped on it by mistake.
I check the clock again.
Or she’s up this late, texting with a guy.
I gulp and swipe the sweat bead off my neck.
She’s really pretty. She most likely has a boyfriend.
I slap my forehead again. Why am I worried about her having a boyfriend? I’m not interested in her. I don’t want some guy getting the wrong impression, and I have to beat him up over a misunderstanding.
I blow out a hard breath and shake it off. I glance back at the phone. Still no reply.
I groan. “Come on, what is up?”
I pace toward my bed, and as soon as I lean over to grab my phone, a new text chimes in.
"Well, that wouldn’t have gotten me very far, would it?"she texts.
I catch myself smiling at the text and swiftly stop it. I lift the phone and wander over to my desk. I read her reply again as I lean against my desk chair. There’s a twinge in my neck, and when I rub my palm against it, a reply strikes me.
"Maybe you just really, really wanted me to take the lead."
After thirty seconds of no reply, no dots, I frown at my text message.
What am I doing? Am I flirting?
I suck in a breath and look at my desk. My chemistry textbook sits with the rest of my junk. I reach for it, considering if I’m texting with Tabitha, it should be about this boring class.
When my fingers grasp the edge of the textbook, a new reply pops up."You got me. I mean, why would I want to take the lead on that boring assignment?"
I regard the text for a moment, and then my fingers have a mind of their own. "You think I’m some kind of nerd who wants to do this assignment?"
She texts back,"I mean, you seem obsessed with it."
"No, I don’t want to fail. And being stuck with you makes an F a reality."
"I could say the same about you."
I rub two knuckles against the space above my ribs."But we have a truce, right? We’ll get this work done so we don’t have to repeat it over the summer."
"Eww! A summer spent with you! Oh, we sooooo have a truce!"
It shouldn’t make me laugh, but it does.
I know make-up classes over the summer wouldn’t be exactly like regular classes. But it’s the thought of losing my freedom from school. I’m not letting this girl destroy my first summer with a license.
Another message from Tabitha pops into the chain."But, like, don’t expect me to be studying right now. OMG, it’s Friday freaking night! I’m not opening my chem book!"
I’m surprised she texted again without another reply to prompt her. I stare at the two messages, less eager to reply. It’s a weird feeling. Now that she wants to talk, it gives me less incentive.
She does want to talk, right? Why else would she double message?
As I continue to contemplate, three little dots appear. Whoa, a third message?
