Promposal (18 page)

I finally looked up at him. Saw . . . a touch of anger in his eyes. Confusion. And a healthy dollop of fear.

“I can't believe you're doing this right now,” he told me in a low tone I couldn't interpret.

The air locked in my chest.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. “I . . . don't know what to say. What to think.”

I leaned back in my chair and scratched the stubble on my jaw. Struggled to draw my breath. “I realize this is coming out of nowhere for you. But you have to understand, this has been eating away at me for so long . . . partly because I was petrified it would ruin our friendship. Yeah, I knew this might wreck it, but I had to say it anyway.”

Something flared in his eyes, a light of recognition. “So the guy you said you have a crush on . . .”

“Yeah,” I confirmed with a small, bitter laugh. “It was you. But how could I possibly tell you that when you kept asking me? After all, we're just friends, right?”

He didn't answer me. His gaze skittered away from mine, and in that gut-sinking moment I realized I'd lost him. His heart wasn't with me—I'd been an idiot to think I had a chance. Not when Noah was around.

I stood and tried to gather the tattered scraps of my pride. “Anyway, I had to tell you. Because we're friends. Best friends. And if I couldn't be true and honest with my best friend without my honesty destroying us, then we didn't have a real friendship to begin with.”

Ethan still wouldn't meet my eye. His jaw tensed. “This blindsided me, Joshua. I . . . I need some time.”

I clenched my hands into tight fists so he wouldn't see them
wobble. All I could manage was a nod; my lungs were painfully squeezed right now.

I turned and walked away.

Left Ethan, the guy I loved beyond anything else, behind.

And he didn't say a word, just let me go.

Each step hurt more than the last. The fear that I'd lost him for good wouldn't stop taunting my mind. What was I supposed to do now? Had I messed everything up by being honest?

Maybe it wasn't solely the confession that had screwed things up. Maybe it also had been the wrong time to tell him—I probably should have done this a few days ago. In my need to purge myself of my feelings, I hadn't thought about the impact it would have on him.

Ethan had already had his mind set on asking Noah, and I'd walked in and thrown a big twist into his plans. Had added a new layer of stress to what was already a stressful day.
Nice going, Mendez,
I told myself.

The bell for class rang. Students spilled into the hallway. I slipped through the chaos, my body moving forward of its own volition like a zombie. My emotions had completely shut down, and for the moment I felt nothing but blissful numbness.

I'd finally told him. No matter what happened from here on out, I'd conquered my biggest fear.

But now I felt lost, without direction. So I walked to the empty, dark band room and sat in a chair. Stared blindly at the scattered music stands, chairs, percussion instruments. No, I hadn't expected Ethan to jump into my arms and tell me he secretly loved me too. But was it wrong that a small part of my heart had hoped for it?

Nor had I expected such anger, such frustration from him.
Shock, yes. But not that strong outpouring of negativity. Or fear. So much for priding ourselves on our honest friendship. It must have been all in my head.

Okay, that wasn't true. I knew that. But my bitter heart was aching and overreacting.

Camilla would want to know how it went, but I refrained from sending her a text. I just wanted to silently sit and figure out what I was going to do. How I was going to pick myself up and get through the rest of today.

I
hate statistics,” I declared as I tossed my pen across our kitchen table. My head throbbed, so I rubbed the tender spots at my temples. “It's stupid. Who cares about how many slices of pizza a female employee eats versus a male employee? Why can't we get more interesting problems to work on?”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Because it's high school, and high school is dull. This isn't new information. And no, you don't hate statistics. You're actually good at it, Miss A-plus in math every year.”

“Ugh. I know.” I gave a heavy sigh and propped my head on my chin. “I just wanted to wallow in a little self-indulgent whininess for a while.”

That got him to laugh, which eased the stress in the kitchen a bit. Right now it was thick enough to cut with a knife and serve on a platter. Between me missing Benjamin and Joshua fretting over Ethan, we were hot messes all around.

Joshua thunked his head on the table. “Camilla, I feel like an idiot. It's been five days and he still won't talk to me.” He lifted his head, and when his gaze fixed on mine, I could see the dark smudges
under his eyes. “Have you heard anything from him lately?”

I rubbed his back. “No, but these things take time.” When I'd gone up to Ethan on Monday to say hi and see how he was, he'd given me a shaky smile and a quick hug. I could tell Joshua's confession had really shocked him, and I'd been too afraid to ask him how the promposal went with Noah. Other than that, I hadn't seen Ethan much at all. “Keep in mind, you've known your feelings for years. He's known them for a few days. It's a big thing for him to sort through.”

“I know. I just . . . I thought I'd have heard something by now. I left him alone all weekend except that one text I sent him on Sunday, saying I'd be happy to talk whenever he was ready. His reply was a curt ‘Okay.' ”

It killed me to see Joshua suffering so much. He wasn't one to walk around bummed out and full of self-pity. I could tell he was trying to keep his chin up, to act like this wasn't tearing him apart. But the shadows in his eyes were too big to overlook.

“Ethan has to do this at his own pace.” Boy, it was easy for me to dole out romance advice when it didn't relate to my own ridiculous love life. Or lack thereof. “Anyway, you tried. I tried. We gambled on love, and it appears like we lost. But at least we played the game, and that's what's important.”

Joshua snorted, and I saw my hokey words had a rousing effect on him. He shook his head. “You should write a self-help book.”

“Maybe I will.” I jutted my chin in the air. “
How to Look Super Awkward and Blow Your Chances with the Guy You Like
.
I smell a hit.”

We worked in silence for the next few minutes, pausing only to ask each other questions about random homework things.

“I'm going to miss this, you know,” I told him. My throat tightened with unexpected emotion.

He looked up at me, a brow raised. “What do you mean? You'll miss all this glorious homework?” He waved a hand over the table.

“No. I'm going to miss being able to see you every day when we graduate and move away.” I sighed. Everything was going to change. I wouldn't be able to sneak in Joshua's bedroom window at night to hang out and talk, or have impulsive Sunday-afternoon shopping trips. “Maybe it's not too late for me to join you in New York City. There's nothing holding me to this place anyway.”

“I'll just sneak you into my dorm room. No one will ever know.”

“I'll get a side job dancing on a street corner.”

He nodded his approval, a crooked smirk on his face. “Now you're thinking. That's the surefire route to success.”

If only that would really work. But I'd already accepted at the local college, deciding it was the most economical choice. Another lovely four years of living at home.
Whee.
That thought made me slump.

“Chin up,” he said, and I saw the sadness in his eyes, which strangely made me feel better—I wasn't alone in this. “I'll come visit you every chance I can. And have you visit me too.”

I nodded and tried to shake off my blues. Yeah, it would be different. But we were too good of friends for distance to come between us. I had to have faith.

Mom came into the kitchen and eyed the two of us. “Are you two working or are you spending all afternoon yapping?”

Ah, good old Mom. Some things would never change. For once I appreciated her constant nature. “We're getting work done.”

“And yapping,” Joshua said under his breath.

Mom shot him the evil eye; apparently, she'd heard him. But a moment later, a thoughtful expression crossed her face, and she spun on her heel and headed to the kitchen counter. Tucked away was a foil-wrapped pan.

“What's that?” I asked.

She ignored me, peeled the foil off, and then grabbed plates. When she came back over to the table, I saw she'd brought us two huge slices of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. My favorite. He and I both perked up.

“You two look far too doom and gloom,” she declared. “And skinny. Mama's cake will fatten your cheeks and make you feel better.”

I gave her a small hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I'm going to miss your cake,” Joshua said in all seriousness. I agreed—yeah, my mom was a nutbar, but her cake was out of this world.

She took an empty seat opposite us and plopped her arms on the table. “Okay. What is wrong with you guys? It is like a stranger kicked your dog or something. I have never seen such frowning faces.”

I dug into my cake with gusto. I knew exactly what she was doing—bribing us with sugary goodness to get us to talk to her. Unfortunately, her mad scheme was working. “It's been a crappy few weeks,” I told her as I tried to select the right words. “I like a guy, but he doesn't like me.” Or not enough, anyway. But the situation was far too complicated to try to explain to her. “And Joshua's having some love issues as well.”

Mom nodded. She reached over and scooped a bite of my cake. “Ah, so you finally told Ethan, did you?” she asked him.

He blinked and sat in stunned silence for a moment. “Wait, you knew too? How is it everyone knew but Ethan?”

“Please.” Mom waved my fork as she rolled her eyes. “It was so obvious. What, do you think parents are blind or something? We do know what love is. After all, we made you children.”

Joshua barked a laugh.

I groaned. “Mom, God, stop. I don't want to talk about you and Dad having . . .” I couldn't make myself finish the sentence.

She huffed. “Well, it's true.”

My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the display.
RU free to quickly meet and go over prom details this wk? NOT nagging you. Just checking.

The phone buzzed again with an additional message from Zach.
Prom is just 2
¹
/
₂
weeks away . . .

Crap. He was right. How had time flown away from me this fast? I swallowed, then forced a wide, easy smile to my face before anyone could ask me questions.

“Who was that texting you?” my mom asked, because God forbid she not know everything going on in this house. Her eyes narrowed at me and she thinned her lips. “Was it that boy who is your prom date? Zach? What's happening with that, and why haven't we seen him around lately? You
are
still going with him, right?”

Wonderful. I shrugged, even as guilt ate away at my stomach. “Yeah, it was him, but it wasn't a big deal. I'll deal with it ASAP, I promise, Mom.” Well, as soon as I could muster some excitement for prom, I would. Not even the allure of dressing up for a night could make me excited about this. I'd been dragging my feet for weeks now, and it was finally starting to bite me in the ass.

“Not a big deal?” She squinted. “Young lady, you haven't even gotten your dress yet. How is that not a big deal? Are you brushing this boy off?”

“Whoa, really?” Joshua asked me, wide-eyed. “You haven't bought anything for prom? Why not?”

My face burned, and I crossed my arms. “Guys, I really don't want to deal with the inquisition right now, if you don't mind. I do have homework to finish.” I waved at the papers.

“Camilla.” Mom's eyes softened, and she reached over and patted my hand. “I know you don't have feelings for him, but he has feelings for you. You must give this boy a chance. It is only right. We will go tonight and purchase you a dress. No arguments,” she said to cut off my next words. She rose from the table. “It won't be as lovely as your aunt would have made you, but we have run out of time. Finish your homework like a good girl, and eat the rest of your cake.” Her hand gently patted my cheek, and she left.

“Your mom is right, you know,” Josh said.

“That I'm a good girl?” I snorted. “Hardly.”

“Hon, you did tell him you would go with him to prom. Why haven't you gotten your dress and accessories yet? What's making you drag your feet so much? This isn't like you.”

I bit my lower lip. “I just don't feel excited about it. With you down in the dumps over Ethan and possibly not even going to prom and me being forced to go with someone who's barely a friend, it isn't something I'm stoked to do. I mean, what's the point? It's going to be awkward, and all I'm going to do is think about Benjamin. Which I know is totally unfair to Zach, but it's true.” I sighed and dropped my head in my hand. “Why can't I let
him go and stop thinking about him so much? He doesn't want me, but I can't get him out of my head.”

He reached over and took my hand. Squeezed it. “I know how you feel. Trust me.”

“I wish you and I could go together, instead. We'd have so much fun.” I pleaded with him with my eyes. “Is there any way I can get you to consider coming to prom? I'll help pay for your tux, even. And I'm pretty sure there's still time to buy a ticket, or we can beg for one somehow.”

He glanced away, and I saw a flash of pain before he donned a small smile.

“I'm sorry,” I said quickly. “It was selfish of me to ask.” I wouldn't want it rubbed in my face either. How could I blame him for being so hesitant?