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Chapter 7
30 September 2011
"I can't believe you've never played Mario Kart."
"Mom wouldn't let me have video games. I couldn't even watch The Simpsons until I was 13." I shift the controller in my hand. This is going to be embarrassing.
His mouth drops open. "You couldn't watch The Simpsons? Why?"
"I don't know, something about violence, and adult material?"
He splutters.
"I know, right? Anyway," I say, gesturing at the screen, "let's do this thing."
"I'm sorry, I'm going to need a minute. I'm weeping for all the lost moments of your childhood." Still, he quickly flips through the menu, setting up the game as he speaks.
"Shut up. I still watched it. She just didn't know I did."
"Oh, rebel," he says, grinning. "Okay, you're this guy, I'm that one. You drive with this," he says, pointing quickly at my controller, "and the aim is to win. You ready?"
"No. That was the worst description ever."
"You'll get the hang of it. Okay, let's go."
"What? No! I don't know what I'm doing," I say, and then quickly curse when the game suddenly starts. I narrowly avoid crashing into Edward's guy. I think. "You're such a cheater!"
"How am I a cheater?"
"You're deliberately not explaining the game so I can't win. Shit, shit, shit. How do I brake?"
"Why do you want to brake? And I've done no such thing. That accusation is resented."
"Look at your face. Look at your smug little face right now. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Edward! Fuck, how do I— Stop spinning!"
He keeps laughing at me all the way through the race. He finishes his laps way before I do.
I glare at the screen. Mario Kart is stupid.
"See? It's easy. Let's go again."
"No, not until you show me how you actually play this thing. I don't get it."
He rolls his eyes, and I think he's going to tease me more, but instead he scoots closer across the couch. My stomach tightens, and then his thigh brushes against my bent knee. I can't breathe.
"Okay, let me just switch to single player mode…" he mumbles. I try to listen as he explains the game, something about mushrooms and battles, but I'm stuck staring at his profile, at the way his lips move when he speaks, the tiny, pale scar on the side of his chin, and the tracks through his hair where he's pulled his fingers along the side of his head. He takes my controller and points out buttons and whatever, and I try harder to actually listen.
This is so confusing.
My gut and my mind are tugging me in two different directions, both trying to shout over the other. My gut tells me I'm careening uncontrollably towards my first ever crush, and my mind is telling me I'm being a massive idiot to even think that's possible. The only thing they seem to agree on is that if this is a crush, that would be incredibly stupid.
He's my best friend. I refuse to lose that, but I don't know if I can act normal around him if I'm suddenly under the influence of freaking feelings.
He makes me do a test-lap on my own, and this time I do all right, surprisingly. He still doesn't move though, and I'm not used to this kind of closeness. Not from him, or anybody else. The whole right side of my body feels warmer, and nervous, somehow. Like little waves radiating out through my skin, making me hyper aware of every movement he makes.
"Do you want to battle?" he asks, picking his own controller back up.
"And battle is the… balloon-thing?"
"Yeah, you have balloo—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, three balloons, get the boxes, blah blah blah, beat you. Let's do it."
"You honestly think you're going to beat me this time?"
"It's a possibility," I say, watching as he sets up the game. "It's mathematically probable."
"I thought you were good at math."
"I am? What are you talking about? The probability is small, but it's still—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, blah blah blah, let's do this."
He shuffles slightly down the couch, making more elbow room, but it's nowhere near where he sat before. That probably shouldn't make me nervous. Or excited. Or whatever this is.
When I almost beat him five games later, he tries to look annoyed.
"If I were to draw out my learning curve right now, it would be astronomical," I say, making him turn to stare at me. I cross my legs, smirking. "I'm almost on your skill-level, and I've played for what, barely twenty minutes? You should start adapting to the idea that I'm better than you now, so it won't be so painful later."
"I think you're forgetting that I'm the one who's taught you everything you know. I will always be the master. I'm Yoda."
"As if," I say, shoving him.
"Am too," he says, shoving me back. I yelp, almost falling sideways down on the couch. He laughs. "Oh my god, I barely even touched you."
"You surprised me," I huff. "I didn't have time to bra—"
He shoves me again, harder this time, and now I actually do fall over. Jesus christ.
I kick him in the leg, making him curse as he laughs.
"Stop shoving me!"
"It's not my fault you have the upper-body strength of a daisy."
"I do not."
He raises his eyebrows and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Okay. Sit up."
I push up, using the elbow bent underneath me as leverage. He matches the pressure easily, though, and the harder I try, the wider his grin gets.
"I'm not even doing anything."
"Oh my god," I grunt, "what are you, The Hulk?"
"Well, technically I think I'm in a slightly better position to use my full strength than you are. That might have something to do with it."
"You think?"
"Also, I've been into sports since I was like three, which again, might have something to do with it."
"Okay, I get it, you're strong, can you let me up now?"
"Also, I think the fact that I'm—"
"If you say anything about being a guy, I swear to god I will rip your balls off," I say. He stiffens in surprise, and I twist under his grasp. His hand slips off my shoulder as I push myself up, but all I manage to accomplish is fitting my boob into his palm.
Oh.
My god.
He stares blankly at his hand, and the second lasts a lifetime.
With a choked shout, he jerks away, and time lurches into hyper-speed once again as he bursts out laughing. "Oh my god! I am so sorry," he splutters, hiding his face as he giggles helplessly. "Oh my god."
I fall back on the couch, pulling a pillow over my face as it flames furiously. I start laughing. "I can't— can't believe that just happened."
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean t— Are you okay?"
He just touched my boob. I'm laughing too hard to speak, so I give him a thumbs-up instead.
My stomach aches by the time I've calmed down. Edward's breathing heavily next to me, snorting every now and then.
With the pillow still in place, I mumble, "So. That just happened."
"Yup."
I lift the corner of the pillow and peek at him. He's staring at me. At my boob. He's staring at my boob.
He touched my boob.
His eyes flicker up to mine, and when he catches me staring at his staring, he turns red and clambers off the couch.
"I have to, uh… bathroom. I'll— Uhm," he stutters over his shoulder as he flees the room.
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While Edward's in the bathroom, and I'm trying to force my face to stop blushing, there's a knock at the door. Alice thunders down the stairs, and my eyes grow wide as I hear the low rumble of a guy's voice a few seconds later. They grow even wider as the voice comes closer.
I slouch into the couch in an attempt to look cool and relaxed, but I'm neither of those things, so I probably just look like I've grossly misjudged a comment to 'make myself at home.' I straighten up again, seconds before these two people I've never interacted with in my life walk over the threshold.
"Hey," Jasper says, tipping his head up at me like a normal person. He doesn't seem surprised to find me here, and as his eyes glide to the TV, his brows jump in delight. "Oh, sweet, Mario Kart."
Just like that. He makes cool and effortless seem so cool and effortless. My chest tightens slightly with jealousy.
The controller is still next to me on the couch, so I grab it and awkwardly wave it around a little before putting it on the table. "We're, uhm. Finished. If you wanna play."
"You sure?" he asks, and at my nod, he folds himself onto the couch. Alice stands behind him, hands on his shoulders. As he sets up a single-player game, she leans forward until her hands have slipped down his chest, and whispers something in his ear. His answering smile is as sweet as anything, and she grins before kissing him quickly on the cheek.
I turn away, flustered by their affection. This really isn't helping my mind versus gut shouting-match.
"What have you two been up to?" Jasper says, and it takes me a few seconds too long to realize he's talking to me. He and Alice both look at me expectantly.
"Not much," I mumble. "Eating and Mario Kart, mostly."
"My kind of day."
I nod, which they both seem content with as a response.
Edward finally comes back a moment later, and after greeting Jasper and giving him shit for how he's playing, he and Alice bicker about which movie to watch, a battle which ends with Alice victorious and Edward sulking in the armchair to Jasper's right.
"Edward, can you help me in the kitchen?" Alice asks, already walking out of the room.
He frowns, and doesn't get out of his seat. "With what?"
She stops and turns back to him. "The food will be here soon – help me get drinks and shit."
They silently stare at each other for a moment; when Alice widens her eyes in an aggressive manner, he gives up. He grumbles as he rises, and Alice looks smug until he walks past and shoves her into the wall.
She gasps, but quickly recovers. All I can hear as they continue to the kitchen is their yelling and a single fleshy punch, followed by a, "Jesus, Alice!" from Edward.
Jasper laughs at me, and I realize my mouth is hanging open. It's a good-natured laugh, but I snap it shut nonetheless, the back of my neck heating.
"Yeah, that happens a lot," he says.
"I didn't know that," I say, and then I want to slap myself, because of course he knows I don't know that – he wouldn't have told me otherwise. Ugh. Being a person is too hard for me.
He nods, and silence fills the room.
Awkward.
I fidget, my mind grasping uselessly at possible things I can say. Nice weather we're having. How's school? Can't wait for that pizza!
After a minute, he speaks, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Hey, you're in the chess club, right?"
He knows we have a chess club?
"Uhm, yeah. I'm… I'm captain."
His smile grows in delight. "Oh, cool. I guess you're the person I need to talk to, then. I've been thinking about joining."
"Oh?" What?
"Yeah. I didn't actually know we had a club until I saw it in the school paper. About you guys going to that tournament thing, you know?"
I nod dumbly. The only reason we're mentioned in the school paper is because Angela works there, and she put the notice in. I didn't think anyone actually saw it.
"But yeah, I've been playing chess for years. Is it free for anyone to join?"
"Yeah, anyone can… can join, if they want. Uhm."
"Great!" He grins at me – I find myself smiling back, albeit in a confused kind of way. "When d'you meet?"
"Every Friday, after school."
"Cool," he says, looking way happier than anyone should about chess. "I can't next week, but the one after that? Or would you rather I wait until after the tournament?"
"No, you can— Come whenever."
"Awesome. This'll be fun," he says. He then spends the next few minutes telling me stories of playing chess with his dad, and I nod along silently. He doesn't seem to mind, and slowly, gradually, tension begins to drain away from my shoulders, letting me relax. Hanging out with him definitely isn't as scary as I built it up to be.
This moment is slightly surreal.
The pizzas arrive, and with Jasper sitting on one end of the couch, and me on the other, Alice claims the middle while Edward sits in the chair. It's not next to me, and I really wish it was. Not because Jasper and Alice make me uncomfortable or anything, but because the two of them are holding hands, all casual, like that's just what they do, and I might be slightly jealous.
Or uncomfortable. Maybe. I honestly can't tell the difference.
I watch from the corner of my eye as Edward tips his head back to eat another slice of pizza. He has tomato sauce on his chin, and he tried to burp really discreetly earlier, but it didn't work.
And I think I want to hold his hand.
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When the movie is over, Edward walks me home; I didn't think it was necessary, but when he tried insisting he should drive me back instead, I compromised.
We make our way around the house, hoodies up and feet squelching through the wet grass. It's only a light drizzle, so it doesn't bother me. We walk in silence, but it's comfortable. The night is quiet, too, creating a calm mood between us.
I glance at him quickly. He's walking slowly to keep pace, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.
We reach the tree-line, and he switches on the flashlight he brought. We move closer together, trying to walk in the path formed by the light. I feel his arm brushing against my jacket.
Edward's side of the woods is much less navigable than mine. I gingerly step over a protruding root, and he puts his hand out, ready to catch me if I fall.
"I'm fine. But thanks," I laugh.
He nods, smiling shyly. Keeping eye-contact with me for a moment, he says, "I'm glad I decided to walk you. I'd be too nervous, sitting at home, wondering if you'd make it through."
"Shut up."
"I'm serious," he says, grinning now. He shines the light at a stone in our path, wordlessly pointing it out for me. I step around it, leaning in to him a little in the process.
"Thanks," I say. "Would it have made you feel better if I'd texted you once I was safely back home?"
"Oh, I would've insisted on it." He gently steers us to the right, around a thick tree. Up ahead, I can dimly make out the contours of the tree-house. "And if it took you more than five minutes, I would've run out here to make sure you weren't dead or anything."
"I'm not that bad."
"I beg to differ," he says, looking at me sideways.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
He laughs at my tone, and I take a second to enjoy the sound.
Unfortunately, we soon reach the beginning of my yard. The light in the kitchen is on, but I can't see anyone moving in there. They're probably in the living room. I texted Mom earlier to tell her I wouldn't be home for dinner. Her responding message managed to convey exactly how genuinely thrilled she was by that.
Edward and I stop just before the trees end. He turns off the flashlight, putting it in his pocket. The darkness swallows him for a moment, but then my sight adjusts, and he slowly re-emerges in front of me.
I smile, tugging a little on his hoodie. "Thanks, for today. And for walking me home."
He nods, smiling back at me. "No problem."
We watch each other for a moment. I inhale slowly, forcing the tingling feeling across my chest to release. I don't want to leave.
I take a step back, anyway.
"Okay. Well, I'll see you on Monday, I guess."
"Yeah."
"Okay. Bye." My voice is quiet as I turn and step out from the trees.
"Bye," he says, and I throw a glance and a smile over my shoulder.
I look back again when I reach the door. He's still standing there in the darkness and the rain, making sure I get home safe.
Dad is watching a movie while Mom sleeps on the couch when I peek into the living room. I give a quiet wave, and he smiles, waving back. Relieved that Mom isn't awake to give me the third degree, I slip away to my bedroom.
Without turning on the lights, I lie back on my bed. The streetlight outside casts a dim glow across my ceiling, and I stare up at it, thinking.
My mind is still shouting, but it's not as convincing now.
I'm a firm believer in my mind's ability; I like to think I can use logic and reasoning to get through any situation life might throw at me. But right now, the logical, reasonable thing is to trust my gut, instead of my head.
Because, no matter how much I can argue against it, I know I wouldn't use the word 'crush' if that wasn't actually what I was feeling. I wouldn't draw that as a possible conclusion, because it wouldn't be possible. You either have a crush, or you don't, and if you don't… Well, you wouldn't wonder if you did.
I grab a pillow and roll onto my side, hugging it against my chest.
Can I admit it to myself, then? Am I really careening uncontrollably towards my first crush?
The memory of Edward using a Twizzler as a straw this afternoon floats through my mind, the way he could barely hold back a smile because he was so clearly doing it to make me laugh.
The way he looked at me when he asked if I liked muscles or not. The way he looked at Alice when she said he talks about me all the time.
How my skin felt so aware of his movements, whenever he was close to me.
My heart, my lungs, my ribs, everything seems to clench inwards in happiness, and I can't breathe for a second.
I bury my face against the pillow, and exhale.
I don't think I have a choice any more.
I don't even think I'm careening. That's too gentle a word. I'm free falling, head-first, eyes shut.
Terrified and elated, all at once.
You guys are seriously the best. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
Meg and Kim, I don't know what I would do without you.
