Chapter Three
twinkle | a light that appears continually to grow brighter
• • •
1/23/17
THE SMELL OF coffee surrounds Francesca and me as we sit at the table, our usual table, in the back of the coffee shop.
Corner Cup is the local coffee spot we tend to gravitate towards for homework dates, and honestly just to step away from our lives. Francesca is perfect in many ways, and she prefers to let the public believe that. But I know how imperfect her home life is, and she knows the struggles I face living with a single mother. But this small coffee shop is where we escape all of that, and of course drink copious amounts of delicious dark caffeine.
Francesca thumbs through her college algebra book, and a small sigh slips through her lips.
"What?" I question immediately knowing she's stressed before she even needs to says it. Spending almost every minute of your life with someone makes it very easy to pick up on their emotional cues.
Her gold eyes meet mine as her dark brows furrow. "This class is already making me nervous," she admits. "Last semester was pretty easy with Mrs. Lancer being pregnant but now we have a new teacher while she's on leave and it's stressing me out cause I don't know him that well."
"Why? You have Roberts who's known to be easy and helpful when needed," I tell her about her new teacher in attempts to lift her spirits. "I should be the nervous one. I'm taking statistics with Granger this semester," I say with a scrunched nose.
Francesca's eyes widen. "She's a straight up bitch," she spits out her eyes now narrowed at the idea of my math teacher. Since Mrs. Lancer is out on maternity leave instead of the district hiring a long-term sub the teachers just switched up some math classes leaving a lot of students with a different teacher then they had the semester before.
"No disagreement over here," I smile at my best friend. "That's why you will have a great semester and if you need help you know I'll help you since I took that class last year," I say trying to reassure her.
A small smile tilts her lips upward. "You're the best Mae," she tells me.
It's something she says frequently, and yet I never know how to respond. So I always shrug as I'm not the best at accepting compliments, even from my best friend, because a part of me doesn't believe her words. I feel so average except when I'm with Francesca. She makes me feel important, and it's a hard feeling to secure even when we've been friends for years now.
"So any movement on the boy and or prom front?" I ask in attempts to change the subject to something Francesca always loves to talk about. Boys. I flip through my history book and begin to copy terms from my book into a word document on my laptop.
Francesca rolls her eyes. "It's only January Mae," she counters.
"And that makes a difference Franny," I state mimicking her tone with a raised brow.
She chuckles knowing she's been called out. "You know me too well," she states as she closes her math book and opens her laptop.
"And that's why I love you," I tell her with a wink.
"Well of course I've already had a few guys allude to prom when it's still months away," she drawls out as if I wasn't spot on in my assessment.
"Of course," I tease back with a small smirk tugging on my face. I don't call anyone out ever besides Francesca. I never challenge my peers, or play at sarcasm with them, only ever my best friend. She is the only person I feel completely comfortable with to show this side of myself to, because it's a rare side.
She leans across the table and flicks my shoulder and a giggle slides through my slightly chapped lips. "Anyways," she sneers playfully at me. "And while they were cute they are no Asher, and he is my number one goal for senior prom," she proclaims as if she says it loud enough it might come true.
My smile drops a smidge at her mention of Asher Lawton. I've completely steered clear of him for the past few days, always finding an excuse to walk the opposite direction when he comes my way or dash into the nearest bathroom.
After our locker room conversation and the way we left things, especially seeing his naked ass, I feel uncomfortable around him. Or more I feel uncomfortable because I wish I had bigger balls and didn't run away. I wish I stayed and looked and maybe even touched, because he's all I can think about. My heart races, and my palms sweat when I think about him being near me again. When I think about his warm naked skin.
My eyes squeeze shut in attempts to push out images of Asher that make my cheeks flush with a deep heat of embarrassment and want. Because he isn't mine, and he never will be. But my body responds to him like I've never felt before, and I don't know why it's deciding now is the time for this after knowing him for years. After my best friend has had a crush on him for years.
But here I am lusting after him, and it has to end now.
"What?" Francesca asks, noticing my sudden quiet demure. Which around everyone else is normal, but never around her. "You still don't like him?" she guesses as she sips on her coffee.
"No, no," I shake my head trying to muddle through my messy thoughts. "He's cute, and you would look great together at prom," I tell her though my words come out slightly awkward. Well more awkward than usual.
"Like prom king and queen status?" she tests.
"Easily," I smile. The moment of worry that filled her is now at ease as I pull my head out of my ass and stop focusing on a guy I'll never have.
I lift my latte to my lips and the burst of caffeine and sugar explodes on my tongue. I swallow the warm drink and close my laptop a little as I stand. "I'm going to grab a sandwich," I let Francesca know.
"Too much sweet?" she asks knowing me all too well.
"Yup," I agree with a grin. "I need some salty now," I state with a dry chuckle escaping my lips. I have the biggest sweet tooth in the world, but every once in awhile I need to balance it out with some salty goodness.
I push away from the table and make my way to the front of the cafe when I hear my name being called out from behind me.
"Maeleigh!" A deep voice echoes once again causing me to glance around my surroundings.
I turn around my eyes darting around the store not noticing anyone until my eyes land at the front doors of the small cafe.
A brilliant smile breaks out across my face. "Brooks!" I exclaim excitedly.
I walk over to him and immediately wrap my arms around the tall handsome boy in front of me. He quickly reciprocates the hug wrapping his large arms around my thin one making me feel warm and secure all at once.
"How have you been?" I ask as I pull away.
I have known Brooklyn Fisher almost my entire life, and he is probably the only guy I actually feel normal around. But his parents got divorced last year and his mother moved and made him transfer to the school district closer to her new house.
"Good," he shrugs simply. "Finally convinced my mom to let me move back in with my dad for our last semester so I could finish it out with my friends."
A permanent goofy smile is tattooed to his handsome face, as well as his signature messy brown curls. Looking at him I know he is the same boy I've known the majority of my life, but he's also different. He's taller and not as lanky I notice as my eyes take in his toned arms and tan, warm skin. I quickly dash my gaze away as my neck heats embarrassed I was checking him out.
"What about the band?" I question next quickly moving away from my awkward staring. Brooklyn's band formed when we were in middle school, and they were not good at all. But now, now they actually sound amazing. "Please tell me you're still together?" I practically plead not able to wipe the silly smile off my lips. A smile that mimics Brooklyn's crooked grin.
"Yes, don't you worry we are still together and playing shitty covers," he says with a dramatic eye roll.
My nose scrunches in confusion. "What about all the songs you wrote?" I push. "You are an amazing writer Brooks," I confess to him truthfully. The way he sees and analyzes the world is so different from my perception, and he would take those views and write the most beautiful lyrics. His words were especially heartbreaking when his parents began to really fight a few years ago.
His eyes widen for second in bewilderment. "You remember those?" he asks slowly as if he's surprised.
"Of course," I tell him with a slight scoff. As if I could ever forget the songs he would let me read in his tree house at night. He started writing at a young age, and he would tape them all over the walls of his tree house. "You might kill at the drums, but you're writing is what has always stood out to me."
He watches me for a moment as I've surprised him. As if my words were everything he needed to hear in this moment, but nothing he expected. His simple brown eyes take me in as if he's always seen me, but now something has changed. Somethings different in the way they wash over me.
Brooklyn clears his throat with a shake of his head breaking the daze he was in. "Thanks Mae," he breathes out quietly.
"Always Brooks," I say before my teeth sink into my bottom lip.
He opens his mouth to say something when my phone rings.
"Hold on," I tell him as I swipe my finger against my screen to answer the call without even looking at who's calling me.
"Hey honey," I'm greeted with sweet words instantly as my mother's voice casts over me.
"Hi mom," I sing as my eyes make their way back to Brooklyn. He's looking down at the checkered floor and his hands are stuffed in his front pockets as he shifts from foot to foot in his worn converse. His shifting is what gives him away, he's nervous. But about what?
"Can you stop by the store and grab me some tomatoes for dinner tonight?" she asks as I hear pots and pans clanging in the background.
"Yeah," I respond. "No problem."
"Thank you," she replies before the line goes dead.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and clear my throat awkwardly to grab Brooklyn's attention. His head snaps up immediately. "Hey, so I have to leave now to be able to get to the store for my mom before dinner," I explain to him.
He nods his head, but I can tell in his eyes he's disappointed about something. I just don't know what, and I'm too shy to pry in the middle of this crowded coffee shop. "Okay, yeah," he says in return.
"Well I'll see you around Brooks,"I tell him with a tiny smile pulling at my cheeks.
"Yeah, see you around Mae." And with those words he turns and heads towards the forming line to order whatever he came in here for initially, and I turn to go grab my things from my table.
But something stops me and I pivot on my heels. "Brooks," I call out and he twists his head to look at me and gives me a questioning glance. "I'm glad you're back," I state.
Without waiting for a reply I turn my back and head to Francesca and mine's table to grab my things and head home.
And as I leave my best friend behind and head towards the store I realize I can't wipe the smile off my face.
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