It’s physically impossible to watch. I don’t understand her. I don’t understand what she sees in him and I really don’t understand why she can’t seem to stand me, when he’s the actual asshole.
Maybe I’m wrong about her. Maybe she really is just like everyone else. Maybe I’ve just been hoping she was different for my own sake.
Or maybe not.
I’m looking at them again, seeing her reaction to what he’s doing to her. His arms are still around her and it looks like he’s still kissing her neck or shoulder or wherever the fuck his mouth is. But I could have sworn she just rolled her eyes.
Now she’s looking at her watch, not responding to him at all. She drops her arm and rests her hands at her sides and she’s just standing there, looking more inconvenienced by him than interested.
I continue to watch them and continue to grow more and more confused by her lack of interest. Her expression is almost lifeless, until the second she locks eyes with mine. Her whole body tenses and her eyes grow wide. She immediately looks away and pushes Grayson off her. She turns her back to him and gets into her car. I’m too far away to hear what she says to him, but the fact that she’s driving away and he’s flipping her off with both hands tells me that whatever she said to him wasn’t at all what he wanted to hear.
I smile.
I’m still confused, I’m still angry, I’m still intrigued and I’m still planning on showing up on her doorstep tonight. Especially after witnessing whatever that was I just witnessed.
• • •
I ring the doorbell and wait.
I’m a ball of nerves right now, but only because I don’t have a clue how she’ll react to seeing me on her doorstep. I also don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to her once she does finally open the door.
I ring the doorbell again after waiting several moments. I’m sure I’m the last person she’ll expect to see here on a Friday night.
Shit. It’s Friday night. She’s probably not even home.
I hear footsteps making their way toward the door and it opens. She’s standing in front of me a frazzled mess. Her hair is loosely pulled back, but strands have fallen all around her face. She’s got white powder dusted across her nose and cheek and even has some in the loose strands of hair framing her face. She looks adorable. And shocked.
Several seconds pass with us just standing there and I realize that I should probably be the one speaking right now, since I’m the one who showed up at her house.
God, why does every single thing about her throw me off like this?
“Hey,” she says.
Her calm voice is like a breath of fresh air. She doesn’t seem pissed that I’m here unannounced. “Hi,” I say, returning her greeting.
Another round of awkward silence ensues and she tilts her head to the side. “Um . . .” She squints and crinkles up her nose and I can tell she’s not sure what to do or say next.
“You busy?” I ask her, knowing just by the disarray of her appearance that whatever she was doing, she was working hard at it.
She turns and glances back into her house, then faces me again. “Sort of.”
Sort of.
I take her reply for what it is. She’s obviously trying not to be rude, but I can see that this stupid idea of mine to just show up announced was just that . . . a stupid idea.
I glance at my car behind me, gauging how far the walk of shame I’m about to take will be. “Yeah,” I say, pointing over my shoulder at my car. “I guess I’ll . . . go.” I take a step down and begin to turn toward my car, wishing I was anywhere but in this awkward predicament.