Chapter 2
Kendall's POV
"I already told you that she had a boyfriend!" I huffed, taking a seat on the sofa.
"Oh, yeah, because she's pretty. I figured that," Logan said.
"Yes, but not because she's pretty. Because she happens to be in every teen magazine standing beside her boyfriend, Reynaldo Vega," I replied.
"Isn't he that super hunky pop singer?" Carlos asked.
"He's not that hunky," I argued.
"No, he's a complete hunk," Logan said.
"Yeah, even I can admit that," James agreed.
"Point is, that she's seeing someone and for any one of you to hit on her is totally inappropriate and is only you asking to be rejected!" I spat.
"Okay, jeez, we just thought we'd try it," James said.
"Also, you all need to stop asking girls out in a pack. It's a dork move," I told him.
"You're a dork move," Logan insulted.
"But Marina was sweet! Even if we can't date her it would still be nice to be friends," Carlos said.
"Yes, exactly. So, no asking her out or calling dibs or attempting to kiss her. And I'm talking to you, James," I warned.
"Why would I do anything like that?" James wondered.
I rolled my eyes.
James, Logan, and Carlos were all still fawning over Marina even after my warning. They couldn't help it, which I understood. Luckily for me, I have good self-control. I haven't even properly introduced myself to Marina. All we've really done has been staring back and forth. She must think I'm a weirdo, which I don't really mind, considering I'm not trying to impress her or anything.
That was until one day in the lobby.
I had been sitting, reading one of my many hockey magazines when Marina, in a beautiful, shimmery Hawaiian shirt, the top buttons open wide, sat down beside me. She had a book in her hand; The Little Disturbances of Man.
"Hi," she greeted me.
"Hi," I returned.
And then silence. I continued to skim my magazine as Marina opened her book. I glanced back and forth between us before closing my magazine and sliding it next to me.
She looked to me and smiled. "You like hockey?" she asked.
"Sort of," I responded.
"Sort of?"
"No, I love it. I would play it all the time in Minnesota. Still do play it, actually, at the rink. Do you like hockey?" I asked.
"Not particularly," Marina replied.
My stomach tensed.
"But I like hockey players," she said.
"Oh, dO you?" I responded, my voice cracking.
Marina began to laugh quietly.
"Sorry…" I apologized.
"Don't be," she said.
And then silence. Except it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. I looked into Marina's eyes once more, seeing the sparkle of the warm lobby light swim within them. I couldn't look away.
"I… I, um," she stuttered. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you around." Marina stood up quickly and walked off towards the elevator.
I was speechless, clutching at the arms of the chair. She left me speechless.
"Hey, whatcha looking at?" Katie asked.
"Uh… nothing," I lied.
"Really? Because I just saw you talking with Marina and you were pretty red," Katie teased.
"I was not," I defended.
"Yes, you were. You have a crush on her, don't you?" Katie asked.
"... A little, but don't tell the guys. They'll attack me for being a hypocrite. I mean, I'm not even flirting with her. And she has a boyfriend. So, it wouldn't matter anyway," I admitted.
"Whatever you say," Katie responded, walking off.
My heart was still racing as I lifted my hand off the arm of the chair. Because maybe… if Marina didn't have a boyfriend, if my friends had any sense of boundaries, if I was anywhere close to her legendary league, just maybe… I would ask her out.
The second I got back upstairs to the crib, I searched through James's magazine collection and found the most recent issue featuring something on Reynaldo Vega. I flipped to the page featuring him and read the details regarding his relationship.
"'Marina is the one for me,' Reynaldo says. 'And I know she agrees with me.'"
Beside that quote was a photograph of the two of them. Reynaldo with his deep cut suit, sunglasses on, staring into the camera all cool. And Marina, an elegant gown, glittery and silky, cascading around her like a waterfall. Reynaldo had his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She was beautiful and, although, I hate to admit it, he was a hunk. They were cute together. They were almost cute to a science, analytically so. Still it hurt to see them together, a slight sting at the back of my head, a tension. I felt tense.
Closing the magazine and hiding once more in James's things, I entered the living room to see my mom washing dishes.
"What were you doing?" she asked cheerfully.
"... Just reading," I responded, sadly.
"Are you okay?" my mom asked.
"Fine. Just tired, I think," I answered.