Page 43 of The Confidant
“Dinner and a movie?” she asked, her expression somewhat startled. As if she hadn’t expected me to ask her to do something so date-like after so many months of just “hanging out.” “Like, at a restaurant and movie theater back in New York?”
“Yes.” I nodded. When she got a hesitant look in her eyes, I added, “Your dad only said you couldn’tsteadydate, right? Steady dating typically means going on severalconsecutivedates with the same person—not that you can never go on a date with someone. As long as they’re not consecutive dates…”
I held my breath as I watched her work through this new go-around that I was offering. This loophole would work if she went on a date with someone else in-between our dates…
It wasn’t ideal, but she’d given me all the signs that she still wanted something with me, right?
I hadn’t been reading things completely wrong, had I?
She bit her lip, and I could see the way she was rationalizing everything in her head.
“If your dad asks where you’re going, you can just say we are hanging out,” I offered, my chest feeling tight as I worried she might turn me down..
Though…if he was still holding onto the same feelings that he’d had after our last interview, just knowing Scarlett was hanging out with an apostate with no other friends around would probably have his guard up.
Maybe that was why she was hesitating? Maybe she knew her dad put up with us hanging out at school because we had the whole forced-proximity thing going, but when we were back in New York, he wanted her to keep her distance…
Addison and Evan walked into the room a second later. When Addison looked at me for a moment and smiled, Scarlett seemed to reflexively reach for the bouquet I’d given her.
Like she was feeling territorial over the flowers and worried Addison might try to snatch them away from her.
I smiled back at Addison in as friendly of a way as I could, while reminding myself at the same time that I shouldn’t feel guilty for sending Scarlett flowers and asking her on a date two days after the dance with Addison.
I mean, it wasn’t like Addison even needed to know about it right now, anyway. With the way things were with Scarlett’s dad, I was sure she’d be fine keeping a possible date on the down-low.
Addison and Evan walked to their seats kitty-corner from us, and the bell rang. Just before Mr. Park could start teaching today’s chemistry lesson, Scarlett leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I would love to go on a date with you this weekend.”
14
SCARLETT
“Still obsessed withThe Confidant,I see.” Hunter leaned closer to look at my phone screen on Saturday morning. We were riding the train home, and I was doing some catching up onThe Confidant’s column from last week.
“I’m not obsessed with her,” I said, gently bumping my shoulder to his. “I just think she has good ideas.”
I’d been so busy with school and basketball all week that I hadn’t had a chance to check her column for last Sunday until now. And when I saw that she had done a column completely dedicated to love advice in honor of it being Valentine’s week, I was jealous that I hadn’t had the idea myself.
Sure, I was only a couple of weeks into writing asDear Eliza, so I couldn’t be too hard on myself for not coming up with all these great ideas when I was still learning how to even run an advice column. But it would have been nice to feel like I was somewhat closer to beating her in this competition she didn’t know I was in with her.
“Whatever,” Hunter said, pushing back against my shoulder. “I think you have a big ol’ journalistic crush on her.”
“Okay, fine, you got me.” I laughed. “I have a big crush onThe Confidant.”
Though not as big as the crush I have on you.
Which was getting way harder to ignore since he’d asked me on a date tonight.
Yes, I had an actual date with Hunter, and I barely stopped smiling all week because of it.
“Speaking of your crush.” Hunter raised an eyebrow, and for a terrifying moment, I worried I might have just spoken my thoughts aloud. But then he said, “Are you any closer to figuring out who she is?”
I calmed down. He was talking about my journalistic crush and not my real-life, love crush.
“Not really.” I slipped my phone back into my pocket and swiveled on my seat to look at him better. “I’ve been trying to narrow it down, though, and I’ve decided that she has to be at least a sophomore since she started writing the column last year.”
“That’s probably a good guess,” he said, a thoughtful look on his face. “And you still think it’s a girl?”
“Pretty sure.” I shrugged. “I mean, no offense, but I don’t think many high school guys are in tune with their emotions enough to give the kind of advice that she does.”
