Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend Part 13
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d.a.m.n it. I can't do this in front of her. She won't get it. Hayles isn't like other girls. h.e.l.l, she doesn't even understand why anyone would like her. Why would Quynn?
Chickening out again. And now I got to come up with another question.
What do you want for your birthday?
h.e.l.l yeah! I came up with that pretty quick.
She taps her chin with her forefinger and looks up at the ceiling. Even this gets me goin'.
I'm screwed.
Don't laugh?
I cross my heart and salute. She giggles.
I want a tattoo so bad!
Why the h.e.l.l would I laugh at that? I smile and remove my leather wristband, showin' her the tatt I got on my eighteenth birthday.
"Sweet!" she whispers as she grabs my wrist and traces her fingers over the ink. The soft touch sends goose b.u.mps up my arms, and I kind of hope she notices. Maybe she'll get the hint I've fallen for her.
She lets go to sign to me.
What does it mean?
Kind of knew she'd ask me that, but I don't want to tell her here. Not with Quynn sittin' two feet away. I wrap the leather back around my wrist.
Later?
She nods.
You figure out a question, yet? Or do I get another one?
Her eyes get wide, and she leans toward me. Yeah, she gets closer every time we talk now. That chocolate smell will be burned into my nostrils. I'm okay with that.
You have more? Gosh, Brody, didn't realize you wanted to know so much about me.
I want to know everything about her. I don't even care how cheesy that sounds.
You got your phone yet? I wink, and she shoves my arm.
No. Still getting it fixed.
You going to tell me what happened?
It's like I asked her to boil puppies or something. Her face gets all twisted for a second, then she wipes it clean with a fake smile.
Nothing. Just got it wet.
She's lyin'. Or at least not tellin' the entire truth. Part of me is kind of happy I know this about her already, but the other part is mad she doesn't feel like she can tell me stuff.
Stupid, I know. It's just a phone.
You seem p.i.s.sed today. Her hands sign it real fast, but I catch it. Are you sure you're okay?
Not p.i.s.sed. Nervous. Never felt it this bad before. Look at what she's done to me!
I'm fine, Hayles. I promise.
She c.o.c.ks her eyebrow and nibbles the inside of her lip, but drops it.
Okay. You going to be busy after school? Her eyes flick to Quynn, who again goes pink and looks at something that became very interesting on the ceiling. Hayles stifles a giggle. Looks like someone wants to talk to you.
Yeah, it does look that way. Probably about Friday, or more about douchebag brother. I don't really want to deal with that right now.
Hayles. That's what I want to deal with.
Did you want to hang out again today?
She shakes her head. I was only asking to see if you were going to talk to Quynn after cla.s.s.
Wasn't planning on it.
Her face scrunches up. Why not?
*Cause I want to be with you. Thought maybe we could hit the library again.
You'll tell me about your tattoo? Her eyes get all excited as she waits for me to answer her.
How can I say no to that?
Yeah.
Sounds good.
Definitely sounds good.
"Brody? Could I talk to you for a minute?"
Quynn's voice is all shaky, but she looks confident as she perches herself on top of my desk again.
Hayles smirks at me as she swings her heavy bag over her shoulder.
"Hey, wait for me, okay?" I ask.
Her eyebrows shoot upward, and she opens her mouth, lookin' like she wants to argue, but I give her a look. She shuts it and nods before walking out the door.
Deep breath.
"Sup?"
"Bro," she says before grinning, "you've never said that before. Who've you been hanging out with?"
I chuckle, but don't respond other than that. Kind of want to get this over with. Half *cause Hayles is waitin' for me, and half *cause I'm not sure if the stomach twisting is because of Quynn or Hayles, and I don't want to be more confused than I already am.
"I went to your house on Friday."
I clear my throat. "Uh, yeah. My mom told me about that."
She smiles. "Thank you for talking me into it. I can't remember the last time I was able to enjoy a Friday night."
Good, she's not mad. Maybe I was reading too much into that sort-of hug she gave me last week. "No prob." I twist the strap of my backpack around my wrist and stand. "That all you needed?"
"Oh!" Her face goes red, and she dumps my books off the desk with her hip. "Um, no. I wanted to talk to you about something else too." She bends to pick up the books, and I'm not as big a douche as I thought *cause I help.
"Shoot." Wish she'd just spit it out. Hayles is waitin' for me.
Her face gets red again as she hands me my stuff. "Just wanted to know how things are going with your signs. Your mom said you were having trouble."
I shrug. "Good. Hayley's helpin' me out. Think I'll be okay."
Half smile. "Oh, well... I thought... if you want..." She pauses for a second, clacking her tongue and lookin' at the door. "I don't mind going over signs with you after school. That is, if you don't feel weird about that."
d.a.m.n it. Opportunity I've been waitin' for, and now I don't want it.
"Uh, thanks. But I'll keep tryin' with Hayley for a bit."
"Okay. Just let me know if you ever need my help."
"Yup." Gotta get outta here. Starting to get awkward. I walk toward the door, but her voice stops me again.
"Hey, Bro?"
"Yeah?"
She takes a deep breath and twirls her hair in her hand. d.a.m.n it, she's got somethin' on her mind. I'm tryin' not to care, but it's hard.
"Somethin' wrong?"
Half smile-again. "Well, I have plans to stop by and see your mom on Friday again. I was kind of hoping I'd see you too for a bit. Like before, you know?"
Friday. Hayles' birthday. If I ever get the guts to ask her out, and she says yes, I won't be home. At least, not long enough to hang out with Quynn like we used to. There goes my freakin' luck, choosin' between two amazing girls.
The choice is easy though. Surprisingly easy.
"Maybe. I may have plans though."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
I should say it. I should say it right now. I'm goin' to take Hayles out. But I don't. I can't find the words. I don't want to find the words. Not sure if Quynn would understand. Hayles isn't... it's just different.
"Okay, then. I guess I'll see you next cla.s.s." She's sad, and I hate it. But I can't do anythin' about it. Not without screwin' things up.
"Later." I smile, tryin' to seem like this isn't the most awkward conversation I've had in my life.
Reason 12: You don't let my jacka.s.s jerk brother get to you.
"Sorry. I just want to drop off some stuff," I say to Hayles as we pull in my driveway. "You want to wait here?"
"Heck no!" She smiles as she unbuckles. "I want me some c.o.ke, if you got any."
I laugh and quickly grab the door for her. "Sure."
She's bouncing as we walk up the porch. It's going to be a good afternoon, I can tell already. I don't want to ruin it by askin' her out, but I'm going to. Just have to find the right moment.
I stick the key in the door and step back to let her in first. She brushes past me and I have the sudden urge to touch the small of her back. Just to rest my hand there. Dude, I want any excuse to touch her at all.
She stops in the entryway and I sidle up next to her, *accidentally' b.u.mping into her back. She doesn't move, which surprises and excites me-for about two seconds.
"d.a.m.n, dude. Don't mind me. Just forget I'm even here."
Douchebag brother.
"What the he-" Oh right, Hayles is here. "Heck are you doin' here?"
Gabe stalks to the fridge, his a.s.s stickin' out of his jeans. He's wearing boxer briefs, but still doesn't leave much to the imagination. Hayles averts her eyes, like the red wall by the stairs is the most interesting piece of artwork she's ever seen.
"I'm outta food."
"Go buy some then."
"Can't." He swings open the fridge and pulls up his jeans, which fall right back down. "Nicole don't get paid till the thirtieth."
"Get a job."
He chuckles and smacks a brick of cheese, mayo, and jar of pickles on the counter. "That's why I have Nicole. So I don't need a job."
"And here you are stealin' food from your mom."
I don't give a s.h.i.+t he's waitin' on his suga momma. He needs to get the h.e.l.l outta here before I lose it in front of Hayles. Just lookin' at the p.r.i.c.k makes me want to punch the c.r.a.p out of him.
"Touche, little bro." His idiotic laughter gets m.u.f.fled as he sticks his head in the cupboard.
Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend Part 13
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Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend Part 13 summary
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