Senseless Attraction (19 page)

      I pulled away from him. “Snap,” I cursed.

      Tristan laughed, pulling me close again into his embrace. “You cannot tell me that was your first kiss.”

     That made me laugh and blush. “Well no, but you’re only the second.”

     “Hmm, I think I like that.” He grinned a big toothy grin, which made my insides curl.

      There was a bang on the door. “Come on, Alex, open up. I am not in the mood to be left out here much longer.”

      Double snap, Sarah.

      “Oh, my God.” I gasped and stepped away from Tristan. “That’s Sarah. Snuffle it! Aren't you supposed to be on a date with my best friend?” I slapped my forehead with my hand and looked in the direction of the front door. “Oh God, did you stand her up? Did you at least text her. She's going to hate me.”

      “Alex,” Tristan said, grabbing my hand with his so I'd turn back to him. “She doesn't have to know about what just happened. Look, I'll sneak out the back door and text her if that will make you feel better. But what I don't want you doing is feel sorry for that kiss. Besides, it was a thank you kiss, that’s all.”

      Sniffing to hold back my emotions, a tear escaped that I didn’t know was threatening to come out. He wiped it away, pulling me into his arms again. I lay my head against his chest.

      “I know.” I did know it was a thank you kiss, and that made me feel a little hurt. “And I won't, I mean, feel sorry about it,” I uttered. How could I when it was the best kiss I’d ever had. I felt his head nod.

      Another pound at the door. “Open up, Alex.” This time it was Corbet.

      Tristan sighed. “All right, I better go before they break the door down. I guess I'll see you at school?”

      I looked up at him and stepped back. “Yeah.” I smiled, even though I felt sick inside. Had I just betrayed my friend’s trust? “Here, take this.” I threw one of Dad's t-shirts at him; he pulled it on, gave me one last look, and left out the back door of the kitchen.

      After tidying the kitchen quickly, I went to open the front door. Silently praying for help because I wanted to cry. I wanted to follow Tristan and yell at him for making me feel things that he obviously wasn’t. But what I prayed for the most was for help to get through the night without having them questioning me about…anything. I was afraid I was going to break—about Tristan and for feeling like I'd just betrayed Sarah.

      I closed my eyes. Oh God, that kiss was a thank you kiss and nothing else.

      There I went again, confusion, feelings, and for what—a thank you kiss?

      What had me more upset than anything was wondering if that kiss would have happened in the first place if he hadn't come here? Because really, in the real world, I couldn't see that occurring. I was not his type. Just plain, boring, nerdy, old me, with stupid glasses.

       I wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, I plastered on a smile and opened the door.

T
he first two days of school dragged; my mind wasn't on education—it kept thinking of Tristan, Sarah, and the situation I’d put myself in. After Sarah and Corbet had walked in Saturday night, Sarah’s phone started ringing. She answered it, and I could hear Tristan’s deep voice on the other end, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Not that I had to; once Sarah got off the phone smiling from ear to ear, she told me what had been said: that he’d rung to apologise that he hadn't made it to their date because he had some troubles at home. Of course, she understood. So they planned to make another arrangement to catch up after school Tuesday night.

      My stomach had dropped at that point, and as I sat in Maths on Wednesday, with Tristan in the back with his mates, I wondered how it went last night. I wondered if they kissed, what they talked about, or where they went.

      I found myself feeling slightly jealous, and I shouldn't. I had no right to. I just had to keep reminding myself that what happened between Tristan and I was only a thank you kiss. It didn't mean anything else, and nothing else would come from it.

      He was with Sarah, and she seemed happy. I would do nothing to take that away from her.

      I thought she would have called me last night to fill me in about her date, but she hadn't. Then I thought I would have seen her this morning and she would have told me all about it then, but I didn't. So that was why I was in Maths, chewing the end of my pencil. My mind was off spending time pondering on what had occurred last night instead of on the class. Had he had fun? Maybe she got back too late to call me? Maybe she slept in because of such a late night? If that was the case, what had them staying out so late?

     
Arhahah. I really wanted to scream out loud.

      “Miss Harmony, are you with us today?” Mrs Doherty asked, breaking through my unwanted thoughts.

      “Yes, yes, please continue.” People laughed. I realised what I’d said and looked up to see Mrs Doherty's glare.

      “Thank you for the permission, Miss Harmony. I'd like to see you after class.”

      I had never heard those words come out of a teacher’s mouth. Sorry, I had heard them, only not addressed to me. I nodded, sunk lower in my seat, and tuned into what she was talking about.

      The bell rang and I stayed seated. I watched the class file out for lunch and Tristan glanced over his shoulder at me; he was smiling as he walked out. What was he smiling at?

      The teacher was concerned about my attitude. I told her it was never going to happen again, that my mind was on other things. She nodded and sighed, then asked me how Tristan and I were doing studying together. That brought a smile to my face and I informed her that things were coming along in strides. She agreed that things had improved in his work and thanked me for taking my time out to help him.

      I made my way to the cafeteria. I wasn’t really in the mood to eat, but as I sat down at the table with Sarah and Corbet, I grabbed out an apple and started munching on it.

      “Well?” Sarah asked.

      I looked up at her grinning face and asked, “Well what?”

      She sighed. “Don't you want to know how my date went?”

     
No!
“Yeah, of course I do,” I said, making myself smile.

      “Not really,” Corbet muttered.

      Sarah ignored him and went on. “It was fantastic; we went out to tea at Benny's—you know, the seafood place? We talked and talked for hours. He asked me if I wanted to go to the movies after. I told him I couldn't, that I had to get home by curfew. But that didn't stop us from making out for the next two hours in my car. He is such a good kisser. I think I may be falling in love with him.”

      Both Corbet and I choked. Corbet on his drink, and me on my apple. Right from the start, I felt sick with every word she’d said, but now, I really thought I was going to throw up.

      My hand went to my mouth and I excused myself from the table, running out to get to the bathroom in time.

      Thankfully, I made it, only nothing came up. After retching for a while, I went to the sink and splashed water on my face; it helped a little, but the nauseous feeling wouldn't go away. Maybe I was really getting sick, or was it the thought of Tristan and Sarah together.

      How could one boy make me so crazy?

      It didn’t matter; somehow, I had to get him out of my head. He belonged with Sarah. In more ways than one.

      I went through the rest of the day like a zombie; in the end, my art teacher told me to go home because I looked pale and didn't want anyone else catching anything. On my way out, I texted Sarah and Corbet, telling them both that I wasn't feeling well and I'd see them tomorrow.

      I got home to an empty house—nothing unusual there. I went to run a nice warm bath, hoping it would relax me and take the stress away that I was causing my own self.

      It had, and it wasn't until I was in my room getting dressed into tracksuit pants and a jumper that I heard two voices coming from the kitchen.

      “Dad?” I called.

      “Hi, honey. I finished early so I thought I'd get take-out for us. Come and eat.”

      I stomped out into the kitchen and froze. Leaning against the bench was Tristan.

      “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

      “Alex,” Dad said sternly.

      “Sorry. It's…uh, I just thought you worked Wednesday nights?”

     
Like Tuesday nights!

      “I have a couple of days off while it's quiet,” he explained, a smile tugging at his lips.

      “I saw Tristan down the street while getting Chinese. He asked how you were feeling after leaving school; I said I didn't know you were unwell. How are you feeling?”

      “Better,” I told Dad, and then asked Tristan, “How did you know?”

      He shrugged and said, “Sarah.”

      Of course. I nodded and looked to the floor.

      “I asked Tristan to eat with us. I hope that’s okay.”

      I shrugged and then shook my head and said, “Well, I'm sick. I mean, I'd hate anyone else to catch it.”

      “Cooties never bothered me.” Tristan smiled. The look in his eyes made me blush. I nodded and sat at the table.

      Tristan and my father kept the conversation going through dinner. I sat silently and listened to them talking about work, sports, family (mainly his), and then Dad brought up the subject of Sarah. I could not believe it.

      “So how are things with Sarah going? I mean, I know she’s a handful—”

      “Dad,” I yipped, but Tristan just laughed.

      “It's all right, Alex. I admit, she
is
full on, but we're only at the start, so who knows.”

      “Good luck with it anyway.”

      “Dad!”

      I was appalled. Dad had never understood my relationship with Sarah. He saw the huge difference between us. But I was never one to knock back a friendship; it was hard for me to make them in the first place, so who was I to argue when Sarah chose Corbet and me to spend time with?

      Dad cleared his throat. “Anyway, I'll clean up here; how about you take Tristan into the lounge? I'm sure he'd like to watch that football game that's on.”

     
“I'm sure Tristan has better things to do,” I said as I stood from the table.

      “No, not really. A football game sounds good.” He got up from the table and followed me into the formal lounge.

      “Take him into the other lounge; it has a bigger television, Alexandra,” Dad yelled.

      I let out a sigh and went down to the back of the house where the comfortable lounge was. Where Sarah, Corbet, and I loved watching our DVDs. I flopped down onto the couch, leaving Tristan to pick from many other chairs, but he sat next to me. Pulling my legs up, I wrapped my arms around them and turned on the television to find the right channel.

      Quietly, I sat there; I could feel Tristan's gaze on me, but I refused to meet it. Why had he accepted my dad's invitation for dinner? This was the last thing I needed when I already couldn't get him out of my head.

  
   Stuff that stupid thank you kiss.

      Because all I could think when picturing that kiss in my mind was an image of him and Sarah together. All those warm, fuzzy feelings I had for him were soon squished, and instead it left me angry and sick.

      “Alex.”

      “Yes.”

      “Have I made you upset for being here?”

      I looked down at my knees and mentally groaned. Even though the guy was driving me insane inside, I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t like his company. It was my own fault for getting stupid feelings for him in the first place.

      Sighing, I said, “No. I know we're friends and friends come to each other’s place. So no, I get it. Only, I think I'm going to have to tell Sarah about it, and at least it was my dad inviting you over. I didn't do it—I mean, not that I wouldn't have. Actually, I don't know if I would have, but it just makes it easier for me to tell Sarah, and then at least she shouldn't be upset with me, right?” I asked and then shook my head. “No, she shouldn't.”