Speechless(106)

                “Hey,” Sam says. I look over to see him smiling at me, and the                     knot in my stomach loosens just a little. He turns down the radio volume a few                     notches. “You okay?”

                I plaster on a thin smile and nod, but he keeps staring at                     me.

                “You look…serious,” he says.

                As opposed to my usual brain-dead ditz look? I just shrug and                     turn the radio back up, pretending to be acutely invested in whatever the two                     hosts are discussing all the way until we reach Home Depot. We walk through the                     sliding doors and straight to the paint aisle, where Sam makes a beeline for the                     paint sample strips. He starts pulling them from the shelves at random.

                “Dex didn’t say what color he wanted,” Sam explains when he                     catches my bemused look. “So I guess just grab whatever you think looks                     good.”

                I wander over to the neutrals, selecting various shades of                     taupe and beige. Maybe a deep gold would look nice. Something warm and                     inviting.

                “Chelsea?”

                I’m so startled to hear my name that I drop the fan of sample                     strips onto the floor. When I kneel down to pick them back up, I’m met with the                     sight of a pair of purple plaid flats I distinctly remember Kristen branding as                     fugly. Sure enough, when I glance up Tessa is staring down at me with narrowed                     brown eyes.

                I gather the rest of the strips and slowly rise to my feet                     until we’re eye to eye. Tessa frowns like she doesn’t know what to make of me. I                     am, admittedly, not as presentable as I usually am when I go out into public.                     I’m wearing a pair of dark jeans and a ribbed brown sweater, nothing fancy. Of                     course, I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone but Sam, and it’s not like he                     cares how I’m dressed.

                Tessa’s gaze shifts over my shoulder, and when she looks back                     at me, there’s the start of a smirk curling around the edges of her mouth. “So                     you’re here with him?” she asks. “Is he, like, your boyfriend now or something?                     Because if so, someone should tell him he could do better.”