It's Sanj's first time in LA, so we spend most of Friday hitting up the same landmarks I've toured a dozen times with other visitors. Not that I'm complaining, because the boredom leaves me with a lot of thinking time. I can't decide what to make of my conversation with Elle last night. Her words said one thing, but her eyes, her tone, her body language—I don't think she was telling me the whole story.
Or, maybe I'm in denial because I want there to be more to the story. Maybe Elle really was friend-zoning me and I need to accept that. That's certainly what it feels like today. I've sent her a couple messages half-seriously inviting her along to various stops on Sanj's tourist adventure, and each time she's had some vague, unconvincing reason why she can't. Finally I dropped the pretexts and asked if we could hang out tomorrow, flat-out told her it'd be good to catch up. She let that message sit on read a painfully long time before replying I just don't think I can. Which... what does that even mean? Can't, or doesn't want to? The only clear part of her answer is that I need to drop this.
So, that's what I'm doing. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow, but right now my goal is not to think about Elle at all. Late afternoon I hear from a football camp friend that he's throwing a party, and that sounds like just the thing to distract myself. Loud music, drinks, and a crowd of mostly strangers—perfect. Plus, Sanj has plans with a cousin who lives nearby, so I don't need to worry about him—even better.
Until, of course, Elle shows up. Of course. When I first catch a glimpse of her I tell myself it can't be, tell myself I've clearly spent too much of the last few days puzzling over her if I'm hallucinating her now. But, ten minutes later, there she is again, and this time I've got to admit she's for real. I haven't had remotely enough to tell myself this is just drunken imagination, and there's no mistaking that laugh or that grin. Unfortunately, Elle's grin disappears as soon as she spots me. There's no way to pretend I haven't recognized her too, and at least she spares me trying to decide what to do by making the decision for us, walking over to me with an uncertain expression on her face.
"What are you doing here, Noah? Stalking me at parties again?" She doesn't sound mad, just puzzled. Actually, she might even look pleased to see me, but maybe that's me kidding myself again.
"What am I doing here? I'm hanging out with some friends. What are you doing here?" Normally, one appeal of Ryan's parties is a distinct lack of Country Day classmates and a break from those dramas.
"You're friends with Anna? Since when?" Elle asks, sounding surprised.
"No, I'm friends with Ryan. Who's Anna?"
"Ryan's sister. One of my debate friends."
"Ah. Well, Ryan didn't mention that when he invited me and the other guys from football camp."
Elle laughs a little, then gives me a small smile. "I guess we get to hang out today after all."
"Are you sure? You're not usually a fan of me being at parties with you," I ask, one eyebrow raised. There's also the thing where she's been dodging me all day, but I'm leaving that alone for now.
"Are you here to keep me from having fun?"
"I don't know, are you going to need rescuing from that fun?" I'm teasing, and judging from her grin she knows it.
"Maybe. Haven't decided yet."
"How about this—if I start ruining your fun, you let me know, and if you do anything reckless, I'll haul you out of here and drop you off at home?"
"This deal seems... very unbalanced." Elle points out.
"Yeah," I admit with a smirk.
"Whatever," Elle laughs. "But just so we're clear, the way I'm letting you know if you're crossing the line is by kicking you in the shins."
"Just like the good old days." No, really, and Elle's kicks were always better aimed than Lee's, not to mention that I wasn't allowed to pin her down until she stopped attacking me, the way I could with him. But wrestling with Elle is not a mental image I need right now. Intriguing mental image, yes; helpful mental image, no.
Elle rolls her eyes at me. "Fine. But if you're going to insist on sticking around, at least go get me a drink. I'd do it myself, but as I recall you don't trust me to pick my own drinks."
"One ginger ale, coming right up."
"Noah." Elle glares at me, and the salute I give her as I walk off doesn't seem to help at all.
When I get back, Elle is talking to a girl who looks vaguely familiar, though I'm not sure why. Whatever they're talking about has them giggling hysterically, and I hand Elle her drink without interrupting. It's not the threatened ginger ale, it's that disgusting rum and root beer she always makes herself, but Elle's grateful smile turns to a frown when she takes a sip and realizes how weak I made it. Compromises.
I'm still trying to remember where I know the girl from when I notice Elle is leaning into me, one arm lightly resting against my back. I don't mind, I'm just surprised.
"Anyway, I should leave you two alone. Nice seeing you again, Noah." Elle's friend gives me a wave as she walks off.
"Who was that?" I ask once she's out of earshot.
"Lane—you sat next to her at dinner, remember? In Boston, with my debate friends." Elle looks uneasy for some reason, and her arm drops away from me.
Elle starts telling me about some scrape she and Lee got into at school this week, but a few minutes later we're interrupted by two guys.
They look familiar too, and this time I know why—they were also in Boston. Which makes sense, if Ryan's sister is part of Elle's debate crowd. Elle doesn't introduce us, but the guys seem to recognize me. They're telling Elle some apparently shocking gossip about another of their friends, but that's not what I'm paying attention to. No, what I'm paying attention to is the reappearance of Elle's arm around me and the way she's once again leaning into me. Which I still don't mind in the least, until Elle's friends walk away and she pulls away again. Which is when it hits me.
"Elle... do your debate friends still think we're dating?"
Elle instantly blushes, and that's all the answer I need.
"Don't get mad. I just... never got around to it. I mean, I thought it would be weird to say we broke up right after the trip, so I figured I'd give it a week or two, and then —"
"Relax—it's fine. I was just curious."
"Sorry, though. I know I said I would, I just didn't expect they'd see you again." Elle's chewing nervously at her lip.
"Elle, I mean it. I really don't care."
Which is a lie. In fact, I like this very much, because there's a lot I can do with this situation. I'd hate to make Elle look like a liar, after all.
I wrap my arm loosely around Elle, and she balks, fixing me with an uneasy look.
"What are you doing? I didn't mean you need to pretend."
"Hey, I've got a reputation to protect. Just making sure your friends know I'm a devoted boyfriend."
"No one's looking at us. And that is not your reputation."
"But they don't know that."
"I know that."
"Ouch, Shelly."
Elle looks apologetic. "That sounded bad, didn't it."
"Only if you meant it."
Elle's blush deepens, and she's avoiding my eyes again. But, she's also not making any attempt to move away from me; if anything, she's letting herself relax against me.
"Why are you — what is this, Noah?" Elle quietly asks.
"What I wanted to do yesterday."
Shit, that sounded wrong. I meant we were finally getting a chance to hang out, but instead it came out like some horribly cheesy line. Except... the way she's looking at me now, her eyes blazing and her lips hinting at amusement, maybe I'm okay with that. Because if Elle thinks it's that interrupted moment in the kitchen I'm talking about, and if this is her reaction—I'm not wasting this opportunity.
And I must have read her right, because as soon as I lean in, she reaches for me, one hand cradling my cheek as the other clutches my shoulder for support as she rises on tiptoe. The kiss is everything I remember from her visit, everything I failed so utterly to make myself forget. Well, except for the realization of exactly how annoyingly short she is, which hadn't been an issue when she'd very conveniently fallen into my bed. And then, just like our time in Boston, the kiss ends long before I'm ready, but Elle doesn't bolt. Instead, she pulls back just enough to look at me, and I can practically hear her heart hammering as she searches my expression. Or maybe that's my own racing pulse I'm hearing.
"We should — there's too many people. Could we... ?"
She's stumbling over her words, but her meaning is clear.
"Yeah."
I'm not winning any awards for eloquence right now either, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that Elle smiles, then takes my hand before pulling me behind her. I don't know Ryan's house, but she seems to, and she quickly winds us through the living room, out a set of sliding doors, and away from the house. There's a small crowd around a fire pit on the patio, but the side yard Elle leads me to is deserted. A couch and two lounge chairs sit around a low table, and Elle releases my hand as she sits down on one of the chairs. I don't know if that means I'm supposed to take the other chair, but Elle doesn't object when I squeeze next to her instead. She does seem more hesitant now that we're alone, though.
Elle stares down at her hands, twisting one of her rings around before finally speaking. "What are we doing, Noah?"
Whatever you want comes to mind, but I'm not sure it's true. Or at least, I'm not sure what Elle thinks we should do is what I'm hoping for. Not that I have a great answer for what I think we're doing, so I fall back on humor.
"I'm a little offended you've forgotten already."
Elle clearly wasn't expecting that, and I'm relieved when she giggles in response.
"You could remind me."
And now she's floored me. There's no misinterpreting that answer, especially not with the way her eyes danced as she said it, but I freeze anyway. She's swung from reticent to flirtatious and back again so many times with me, and I know this still isn't a good idea. On the other hand... I want to and she wants to. Yeah, easy decision.
Elle is watching me with a small smirk that turns smug as I lean in to kiss her, and my lips have barely brushed hers before she eagerly winds her arms around my neck, slanting her head to better align us. And if that kiss a minute ago was everything I remembered from Boston, this one is even better, and so I tell that nagging voice in my head to shut up. I have a lot better things to think about right now than whether this is a good idea—like how soft Elle's hair feels when my hand sweeps under it to cup the back of her neck, the teasing darting of her tongue, and the barely audible sighs that sometimes escape her. Elle pulls me down with her as she leans back into the chair, and the moment abruptly shifts to slapstick when the lounger unexpectedly reclines and she nearly rolls off its side.
Elle is giggling like mad as I pull her back onto the seat, and pretty soon I'm laughing too. Apparently she's as bad about falling out of beds as she is about falling into them, and I regret all the times I teased her for being a klutz. Not because she isn't, but because it's cute as hell.
"So, did that refresh your memory?" I ask once we've recovered from the hilarity of her near-accident.
"I hadn't actually forgotten." Elle impishly admits.
"My self-esteem thanks you greatly."
"I wasn't worried about the health of your ego," Elle laughs. "It's never needed any help."
"You wound me, Shelly."
"I will wound you if you call me that again."
"Do you actually want me to stop?"
I don't know that I could, but I'd at least have to try, if she really did hate it.
Elle bites at her lip again as she considers my question. It's not a new nervous habit of hers, but it's one that's been driving me crazy ever since getting better acquainted with those lips.
"No," Elle finally decides. "But I'm still going to yell at you for it," she adds with a sly grin.
I should probably get us back to her earlier question, about what exactly we're doing—make sure she really has changed her mind about the impossibility of this. But when Elle reaches for me again, I take that as answer enough.
I'd hoped tonight would distract me from Elle, but instead it's Elle that ends up distracting me from everything else, including the party going on around us. Well, not quite around us, thanks to Elle's knowledge of the more secluded parts of Ryan's home, but near enough to provide a low soundtrack of thumping bass and drunken revelry. It's not until slamming car doors start to join that soundtrack that we realize how thoroughly we've lost track of time.
Elle winces after looking at her phone. "Shit, it's really late. My dad's going to kill me."
"Midnight curfew?"
"No, but I'm supposed to let him know if I'm out this late. I should text him and swear I'm on my way."
"Do you need a ride home?"
"On your deathmobile?"
"Motorcycle, Elle. They're called motorcycles. And no, I drove tonight."
"That's a relief. But I did too, and you dropping me off wouldn't make my dad any happier about how late I am."
"Yeah, probably not." Which reminds me of some conversations we should have, but those can wait.
I stand up and extend a hand to her.
"Worried I'll fall out of this chair again without your help?"
"Can you blame me?"
Elle glares at me, but she also lets me pull her up. And then keeps hold of my hand as we walk through the yard, her fingers interlacing with mine as though we'd done this a thousand times, not letting go until we reach her car.
"Are you taking Sanj touring again tomorrow?"
"We haven't really made plans yet."
"Maybe you and I could... talk?" Elle's playing with her car keys rather than looking at me.
"Yeah. Definitely."
"Good. So — I guess I'll call you. Or I could come by, maybe. If you're going to be around." Elle adds awkwardly.
"I'm confident you know where to find me."
"Yeah, I think I can manage," Elle laughs.
She looks up at me like she's going to say something more, then turns away instead, reaching for the door handle. Impulsively I stop her, a hand at her back to pull her closer, and kiss the top of her head before stepping back. Even in the dark I can see her blushing, and she mumbles Good night, Noah before turning back to the door and disappearing into her car.
I wait until Elle's car is all the way out of sight before going to find my own, and then I lean back in my seat for a long minute to catch my breath and let my heart stop racing before finally starting the engine. There's still a lot we need to figure out, but at least I know what I want.
A/N: the Favor reappears... in more ways than one. Thanks again for your patience, and an early warning that next week is likely to be a Birthday Flowers update again.