Strung (Seaside 0.5)

She laughed at something Demetri said, then looked across the lunchroom, locking eyes with me.

My mouth went dry as we held gazes.

It wasn’t just me

And that’s what made it so hard. Yes, she liked Demetri, but she was curious about me, which almost made it worse.

I didn’t even realize someone had sat down next to me, until a girl reached out and touched my arm. I jumped a foot and swore.

“Sorry.” She smiled. “You just seemed like — stoned or something.”

“Hah.” I cracked a smile. “Nope. Just fine.”

“Good.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t hitting on you or anything.” She blushed.

I barked with laughter. “Thanks for the heads up.”

She blushed a deep red. “I just… you looked lonely.” She bit down on her lip. “And there was no where else to sit.”

I returned her smile. She was sweet — nice — not salivating over me and definitely not stripping so I could get an eyeful of her goods. I liked it. But she wasn’t Nat.

Damn it! I stole another glance at Nat’s table. She was watching me, glaring more like it. My smile fell. Holy shit was she mad at me? Because I was talking to another girl?

Screw that.

“Thanks for sitting by me, I gotta run.” I whispered to the girl and stalked out of the lunchroom, nearly throwing the door off the hinges. Where the hell did she get off being mad at me? When she was kissing my brother?

I leaned against the wall and cursed, just as the lunchroom doors burst open revealing a panic-stricken Nat.

My brain said ‘no.’

My heart said ‘no choice.’

I grabbed her from behind and tugged her into the janitor’s closet. Thank God it was open. “Don’t’ scream,” I whispered. “It’s just me.”

“What was that about, Nat?”

“What do you mean?” She twirled a piece of hair between her fingertips.

“Don’t play dumb,” I said. I really didn’t have the self-control to stay inside a small space with her that long. But we needed privacy. It needed to end. Now.

Nat’s lower lip quivered, then she bit down on it, sucking it with her teeth. She may as well have kissed me for as violent as my body responded to that one little image.

“Don’t do that anymore, please,” I begged, my voice raw.

Nat stopped sucking her lip and looked up. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip, it’s distracting as hell.”

“Okay.” It looked like she wanted to do it again, nervous habit I’m sure, one that would eventually be my demise. And then she put her hands on her hips drawing my attention to her body. I almost groaned out loud.

“Yeah, like that’s better.” I pushed her a little so we had more space between us and sighed. “Now, are you going to tell me why you were trying to kill me with your mind in the cafeteria?”

Nat looked down at her feet and mumbled, “You were smiling.”

Silence.

“And” — she continued looking at her shoes — “it wasn’t at me.”

I exhaled. My body started to shake.

“I know it’s stupid. I know how ridiculous I sound, but you were so angry this morning in the car and you never smile at me at school, and now it’s even worse because you said you’re going to try to stay away from me, and I really don’t want you to. I want you to be… close.”

Escape. I needed to escape. I tried to lighten the topic. “You talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

“A habit I’m trying to break,” she retorted.

Her body was like a magnet, drawing me towards her. I couldn’t’help it. I didn’t want to help it.

“Nat…” My hands moved to her shoulders, she felt so damn good underneath my hands. So precious. This was it. It was time for honesty. I needed to clear the air. “We both know I can’t be close to you.”

“They’re just pictures,” she grumbled.

“It’s not about the pictures,” I said quickly.

Her head snapped up.

Our breathing was mingled — labored. I swayed a bit on my feet, swayed directly into her space; my mouth was so close to hers, so damn close. I couldn’t. I seriously couldn’t. I needed to leave. My brain screamed at me, my heart pounded against my chest, wrong. It was wrong.

“Nat…” I groaned, the pain of being so close but not touching her was killing me inside — ripping me to shreds. Nat was shattering me with her presence.

She reached up and touched my face. I closed my eyes and cursed under my breath. Her touch would always be my undoing.

“We can’t,” I croaked.

“Can’t?”

“Us, we can never happen, Nat.”

She jerked back. “Why?”

Why? WHY? I wanted to scream at her. Or maybe I wanted to scream at myself. “I promised someone a long time ago that I would never get in the way again. He really likes you, Nat. Possibly loves you. I won’t do that to him. I can’t do that to him, regardless of how I feel about you.”

“How do you feel?” How did I feel? On fire. For her.

That moment defined me. For the rest of my life, I would always think back to the moment when I betrayed a person I loved the most. Where I was almost responsible for his death. Where I was responsible… for both of our lives. Because it wasn’t me. It was us. Alone. In that closet. And Nat wasn’t choosing Demetri; she was choosing me. She wanted me. Girls have no idea what that does to a guy, when they finally let us see a part of their soul, when they expose the most private part of their emotions and ask the question, “Will you love me?”