I avoid him. I avoid his eyes. His direction completely. I tire of the pain and struggle to maintain the nonchalant expressions toward him. So, altogether I avoid. I spend the next few days that way, giving way for him to pick my healing wounds at practice.
He asks about my parents, already knowing my dad, he says. This doesn't surprise me. Everyone knows Chief Swan. We talk about small things concerning me. He asks my favorite genre of music. Nineties and some new bands. He grew up on that music and I had just been born. We never talk about him. I can't read this conversation. Crush. No crush. I can't tell. I'm no Jessica Stanley. Regardless, nothing will ever become of this.
I sigh and swallow. Does he do this on purpose? Does he know the effect he has on me when he stifles a grin on his perfect face? Damn.
"Are you okay, today?"
I sigh. I'm not okay. I'm not okay because I can't have him. "Just senior worries."
"You'll be fine the rest of the year, trust me. What do you have to worry about? Your grades aren't slipping in your other classes are they?"
"No. They're fine. It's just college decisions." I'm a good liar. "Friends. Prom."
"Why are you worried about prom?"
"I have to find time to get to Port Angeles to buy a dress." I have plenty of time.
"I'm sure whatever you pick out will be gorgeous."
I'm fully prepared to let the conversation roll away with the wind.
But he isn't. "Has anyone asked you?"
"Not yet. I may just go with my friends. They haven't been asked either."
He looks to his lap. His knee bounces. "Boys these days are crazy. If I was your age, I would've asked you in a heartbeat."
We catch eyes. So much for avoiding him.