“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“No, it’s fine.” She sifts sand through her fingers, and I can see she’s nervous.
I’ve come to know several of Delilah’s nervous habits. If we’re on the beach, she reaches for sand, but when we’re sitting in the grass, she pulls blades apart in skinny strips, and when we’re at her house or at my apartment, she plays with the edges of her shorts.
I go back to sketching, waiting for her to say more as the sun rises higher into the sky and catches her long blond hair at just the right angle to show off the golden highlights. Sometimes when we’re together it’s hard for me not to reach out and touch her. This is one of those times. I can see she’s struggling to tell me something. Her eyes flick to the water, then back to her feet, and finally she meets my gaze.
“I spaced out through most of therapy, but I went out with Janessa, the girl I told you about.”
Janessa. My stomach takes a nosedive as the green-eyed monster sinks her claws into my neck. My hand stills on the sketch pad. Delilah is pretty careful with her emotions, and I’m not entirely sure how to read her sometimes. There are times when I catch her looking at me like she wants to touch me, or kiss me, and at those times my heart swells with hope. I know I’m probably seeing only what I want to see. Other times I see her gazing off at guys on the beach, and I don’t know what to think. I have no right to be jealous about Delilah going out with another girl, especially since I’m pretty sure she’s straight, but I am jealous, and I have to force myself to push those feelings aside and act like it doesn’t bother me. I’ve made the mistake of being attracted to straight girls before, and I’m not willing to lose our friendship over my crush on her.
“Was it fun?” Please say no.
Oh my God. I’m such a bitch.
She’s looking at me that way, like I could lean forward and kiss her and she would be totally into it. Ugh. I know it’s my own wishful thinking, but hell if I don’t think I see it in her eyes. I wish I could just ask her if she’s straight or not, but it’s not a topic you can throw out there. Hey, check out the sunrise. Are you into girls? She’s never brought it up to me, either. I figure eventually it’ll come out one way or the other. Either I won’t be able to keep myself from touching her, or she will go out with a guy and that’ll be that. Only I’m not sure turning off my feelings for Delilah would be as easy as that’ll be that.
“It wasn’t really fun, but it was nice.”
Her voice pulls me from my thoughts.
“We went for drinks at the Sandbar.”
“Drinks? You don’t even like to drink that much.” I lower my eyes to keep her from reading what I’m sure my sharp response has probably already conveyed.
“I only had two, but it was nice talking with her. She’s got a three-year-old little girl, and she’s really nice. You’d like her.” She looks out over the water again.
She has a baby. She’s probably in a relationship. Relief lifts my eyes to her again.
“Maybe I can meet her sometime.” Even knowing she’s probably straight, I’m still a little jealous that Delilah spent the evening with her. I know she and Janessa are friends and talk before and after their group sessions, but they’ve never gone out for drinks before. I realize I’m gripping my pencil too tightly and the shading I’m working on is too dark, too angry, but I can’t seem to loosen my grip.
“That would be great. Maybe after therapy sometime?” She reaches for the sketch pad and our fingers brush. “Can I see?”
Her fingers are long and delicate, and I want so badly to bring them to my lips and press a kiss to their tender skin. It takes all of my focus to resist the urge and release the sketch pad.
“It’s not very good.”
“Ash, this is amazing. You made me much prettier than I am.”
I scoot closer and look over her shoulder. This is my favorite place, pressed up against her with our hips touching. We sit like this a lot when she’s teaching me sketching techniques or discussing the nuances of drawing. Lame, I know, but I’ll take what I can get, because even if she’s into girls, it doesn’t mean she’ll be into me, and I enjoy spending time with her too much to chance losing that.
“You are prettier than I can capture on paper, Delilah.” Our eyes connect, and the air between us pulses with electricity. I brush her hair from her shoulder, barely breathing, hoping she’ll give me a sign that she wants me as badly as I want her.
“Thanks, Ash. You’re the greatest friend ever.”