Mess To Be Made

46

Fuck.

I liked him.

Like, I really liked him.

I knew that for a fact now because this whole week at school had been easier than I thought it would be.

We were, surprisingly, just... natural.

My fingernail clacking became a quick squeeze of each other's hands. Our inadvertent glances became intentional stares. The mere thought of him had my whole body messed up in a shaky, dizzy jumble of limbs and thoughts. But when I actually saw him, when I could feel his hazel gaze scanning my figure or hear the way his lungs took in air a little sharper when I was nearby...

Calm. I was oddly calm.

We spent lunch together in his car on Wednesday. The whole forty minutes. Lindsay and Rachel made fun of me when I told them beforehand, reminding me that I had never spent an entire lunch with anyone but them and Sean. Their comments only heightened my crippling anxiety around the situation. I spent the morning fidgeting and frantic, like a fucking freshman who'd been asked to lunch by the hot senior.

Tyler noticed it the second I got in his car only a few minutes after lunch started. My nervous energy could've had his giant Suburban running all on its own.

"Are you..." Tyler started as I struggled to zip up my backpack after retrieving my sandwich from the front pocket. I could hear the amusement in his voice and every one of my movements felt like they were under his microscope.

"What?" I said impatiently with a quiet huff, my backpack now successfully shut. I didn't dare look at him as I unwrapped my turkey sandwich. I knew he was smiling.

"Nervous," he finally finished and, despite my chest tightening at his words, my muscles relaxed at the feeling that his eyes were no longer trained on me.

"No," I lied, picking at my crust. Silence consumed the space between us and my self-proclaimed nonexistent nerves flared again. Hesitantly, I returned the question. "Are you?"

I felt his gaze on me for a brief moment as I took what I hoped was a graceful bite out of my lunch. His voice was annoyingly light as he almost taunted me for clarification. "Am I... nervous?"

"Yes, nervous," I snapped under my breath. He was playing with me. And enjoying it. Asshole.

"Should I be?"

For the first time since getting in his car, I looked at him for more than a single second. His lips were pressed together, clearly suppressing a smile, while his hazel orbs gleamed green with mischief. Even though I had seen him only five or so minutes prior in fourth period, his brown hair looked messier, like he'd run his hands through it a few too many times.

Unfair. I'd like to run my hands through his—

I tore my focus from his brazen eyes and tempting wisps of brown hair, just in time to catch three girls staring at us and whispering to each other. I reigned in a snort and limply gestured to the gossiping onlookers. "Probably. Your reputation will be ruined after this."

With now both our gazes on them, the group of girls scurried away. I knew they weren't the first though, nor would they be the last. I'm sure there were already plenty of conversations and group texts that had my name as a talking a point—who is Allie Carson eating lunch with? Has she found her next victim? Who even is he? Poor guy. She's so—

Tyler's abrupt chuckle knocked away my reeling thoughts. "Ah, yes. My renowned reputation. Oh, how far it will fall."

Our eyes met and I couldn't help but mimic the smile already plastered on his lips. The way his cheek even dimpled had a small laugh spilling out of me, my lungs growing warm with his humor. I bit my lip and turned my attention back to my sandwich. "Okay. Fair."