Sweet Dandelion

“Let me drive you home.” I open my mouth to protest, so he quickly adds, “I know Sage told you I couldn’t bring you home anymore, but he’s not going to know. We’ll stop at Watchtower and talk—neutral ground.”

I flick my eyes up at him, nodding. “Okay.”

He smiles back. “Thank you.”

Don’t thank me. Not when one day you might hate me if you ever learn who really has my heart.

I pull out the latest book I borrowed from Lachlan and pass it to him behind his desk. He’s wearing his glasses again and pushes them up his nose before taking the book. His long fingers wrap around the hardback before he turns around and puts it on the shelf.

I’ve yet to tell him I got a library card, not when I would much rather borrow books from him. It’s silly, I know, but I enjoy sharing his love of books. Watching him light up talking about his favorite reads is some of my favorite moments shared with him.

He doesn’t ask if I want to borrow another. Instead, he automatically grabs another and passes it to me.

I don’t look at the title, or even the cover, before I put it in my backpack. At this point I trust his choices.

“How’s your day going?” he asks, shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Okay, I guess.” I shrug, putting my backpack on the floor near my feet.

He has the blinds rolled up, the ground outside dusted with fresh snow. Flurries fall from the sky, twisting and swirling.

“They’re saying it’s going to be a blizzard.”

My head slowly swivels back his way. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Snow might be a fairly regular occurrence here, but a blizzard, not so much.

“I don’t know, the sky is getting darker.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed, Sherlock.”

His eyes widen at my snappy tone. “Something’s wrong.”

A statement, not a question, because Lachlan sees all and knows all.

I never told him about Ansel wanting to kiss me on Thanksgiving. I haven’t told him about how it’s strained my relationship with my only true friend. Don’t get me wrong, I like Sasha, but she doesn’t understand me the way Ansel does.

“Ansel wants to talk to me after school.” I tap my foot against the ground, the carpet muffling the sound.

“Oh?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his fingers together as they lie on his chest.

There’s no point in trying to keep it a secret anymore. “He asked to kiss me, but I said no, that I don’t like him in that way. He’s … he’s been fairly normal since, but I don’t know how to be, because I feel terrible.”

“Why? You shouldn’t feel bad—if you don’t see him in that way you can’t help it.”

I hesitantly raise my eyes to meet his baby blues. “Yeah, but how would he feel if he knew what’s holding me back?”

Lachlan’s lips twist and he swallows thickly. “What’s holding you back?”

His eyes tell me he knows.

His expression, too.

“You.”

His body softly shudders, it’s barely noticeable, but I’m watching him closely so I don’t miss the tremor.

He leans forward, hands clasped on the table. He hasn’t moved around in front of it today. It’s probably good he hasn’t.