Chapter 28

Who else could it have been though? Her words replay with precision in my mind, I hear every single one clearly. My eyes widen, again.

"Hello?" Savannah says, while moving her hand up and down in front of me. I shake my head, surprised, then frown and look at my plate.

"You alright?" she asks. I nod and just keep eating, my eyebrows still pulled together. She couldn't be serious. She said she had feelings. Wait, what kind of feelings? There are many kind of feelings. Friendship, romantic, sexual. God, probably the latter. If I give her what she obviously wants, then she'd just go away. And I don't want her to. But she doesn't treat me the way I saw her treat Jane. With Jane she was only provocative, with me she's sweet sometimes. No, it's because I'm not like Jane. I don't want her for that, plus I keep pushing her away, even if I want her closer to me. I could test that theory, give it to her and see if she goes. No wait, Rose. You. Are. Dumb. Who the fuck would do that? Jesus Christ, she's just messing with your head. She had to be messing, right? She said she wished I were awake but grateful if I wasn't. It probably was a random prank she was half sure of doing and would have brought on only if I were awake. I am overthinking. I shouldn't overthink. I should analyse. Which in this case is just a synonym for overthinking.

"Rose, can you hear me?" She pokes me.

"What?" I answer, half paying attention, half panicking. Wait, she said she always says that she doesn't care how the girl she dates eats.

"I was talking about last night. Are you worried for something? Did I do something wrong? I can stop talking if you like."

"No, no, it's fine. Sorry. Recap?" I reply.

"Okay, so. Tyler said you're really nice, and he said he would have either texted you or called you this morning to check on you." Who's- Oh the blonde one. "And Ava came out to the girls while you were chatting with him about Universe stuff. She said she was dating Jane." Are we dating? Did she mean me? She doesn't care about the way I eat because I am the girl she's dating? "Uhm, then Gary, the guy with the guitar, sang his last song, you remember? The one just before he went away with Olive? Anyway, he sang it for her. Olive, I mean." She called the bowling alley thing a date, so technically I am? "And he admitted it to her when they were walking home," Or maybe she was just joking? To lighten the mood? "And she just refused him. Like that. He was in pieces. Are you sure you're listening to me? If you don't care just say it."

I raise my head, my plate almost empty. I don't feel like eating. I might puke, but food tastes so good. "Yeah, I am. Gary and the girl."

"Want to stay here this morning? Or for the...whole day? If you like?" While saying this her shoulders go up and she stares at her folded legs. She looks shy.

"Are you...are you shy?" I am trying. I really am. But I can't keep it in. So I burst out laughing like an idiot.

"What? No!" She argues, as if I said the craziest thing in the world.

"You are. Look at you!" I laugh even harder, I move the tray away before I let anything fall.

Suddenly, I am once again against the pillow with Savannah up on me. She leans in and says, in a low voice, "Want me to show you how shy I can get you?" And just that makes me feel small. I look down, feeling my cheeks burn and I hear her chuckle. Her grip tightens against my wrists, which are pulled over my head. She pulls off.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I should go back to my original plan: do not let yourself fall for her. No. Absolutely not. Not happening.

"I'm gonna go." I say. I start to pull my legs out of the blanket, but a hand rests on my thigh and stops me. I look into her eyes, which are burning back into mine.

"We sill up for this evening?" She asks. I nod, grab my jacket, and plummet myself down the stairs, out the door and on the way home.

"I'm home!" I scream as soon as I walk into the door. I run to the toilet, grab a towel, and clean the sweat off me as I walk back in to the kitchen.

"Hello, sweetheart." My grandmother says, coming from the living room with a mug in her hand. "How was the jog?"

"Good thanks. I might do this more often to take away stress." I answer.

"Stress? What stress? Want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm good thanks." I say, but I really am not. Savannah is exhausting, but she makes me feel alive at the same time. At least she stopped being annoying. Well, not really, but I see improvement. Also, I am nervous for this evening. I am definitely going to make a fool out of myself. Where are we going anyways? Oh wait, what kind of dinner is it, casual or date? And by date I mean elegant.

As if on cue, I get a message:

Savannah:

[12:49]: wear the dress ava picked up for you

[12:49]: the one with the slit ;)

Jesus Christ. Elegant night. She texted me before telling me she was going to pick me up at seven. Which means I probably should sort out the dress and the makeup right after lunch, and start to get ready at half past five. I know, I am slow. Let me be.

"I'm cooking lunch." I say, and start to get the ingredients.

Twenty minutes later I bathe myself in my grandparents' compliments, telling me how good the food is. I just cooked pasta and sliced tomatoes, not much, but I appreciate their praises.