Chapter 3

  Over the next few weeks, Buxton meets me by my locker every day. He's grown sweeter, even once bringing me a bag of cookies his mom made. Those were delicious. Buxton even apologized for calling me a scullery maid, which had Macy nearly squealing in delight. She really thinks we will end up together. I, on the other hand, am very cautious. I don't know what tricks that boy would and could pull. I don't want to be another one of his conquered trophies. He's probably dated tons of girls. 

  One day, he seems especially nervous. He doesn't meet my eyes and say hello like he usually does. Instead, he stares at the ground for a few moments before blurting out, "would you consider going on a date with me?" I blink for a few moments, trying to process what he just said. "Um, yes, I guess?" I say slowly, and his face lights up in a way I've never seen before. "Okay, meet me outside after school and we'll talk about it." He weaves down the hallway without so much as a second glance. I stare at the piece of paper in my hands. The handwriting is a little messy and reads 'meet me outside the library'. That was on the other side of campus! Whatever, I told myself. It's just this one time anyways. 

  When the final bell rang, I was scrambling out of the classroom, hurrying to meet Buxton. True to his word, he was standing outside the library, leaning on one of the stone columns. "'Bout time you showed up," he commented as I approached. "That's unfair," I laughed, "since you have your last class super close to the library." He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Oh alright, I suppose you have a point." I smiled. "So... about the elephant in the room..." I trailed off waiting for him to finish. "Oh, yes. That. So I was wondering if you were free today to come over to my house." My eyebrows almost flew off my head. "Quite bold, I'd say, for the first date. Already inviting me home?" I laughed as his face reddened. "Well, I wasn't thinking of it like that," Buxton replied, but then his voice took on a mischievous edge. "Unless you want me to." I snorted. "As if," I fired back playfully.

  Buxton's house was actually really nice. With a manicured lawn and fancy little trees growing along the path going up to his front porch. "Wow. You have a really nice place," I marveled at the size and simplicity of the house. It was obvious that his family was rich, but he never rubbed it in peoples faces. "You want a snack?" He asked as we made our way to the kitchen. "Sure," I responded, running my hands over the smooth granite countertops. "You really like interior designing, huh?" He looked at me over his shoulder. I nodded vigorously. I liked making places aesthetically pleasing. And his house was that at its finest. 

  Later, we were sitting on his couch watching a movie and munching on some cheese and crackers. And can I say, Ritz crackers probably came straight from heaven because they're soooo good. "So, what's your favorite... song?" Buxton asked. "Ooh, that's so hard. I don't think I have one because there's just too many to choose from."

"Favorite food?"

"Favorite number?"

We keep asking each other questions until Buxton goes quiet for a moment. "So, have you ever dated anyone?" He asked, almost hesitantly. "No." The answer comes with a small shrug. "Have you?" He closes his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, just one girl. But she only used me cause I was popular. She dumped me when the star quarterback started flirting with her." My heart breaks for him. "I'm so sorry that happened to you." He gives me a little smile. "It's not your fault. I made myself tough so that nobody saw my pain. Then I played hard to get - like you said that one day - and she came back begging to date me again. I said no." I stared at him. "So is that why you're always so cold towards girls? It's because you're afraid of letting them in or something?" Buxton shakes his head. "I'm not afraid - it's just that all girls are the same - users." 

  Confusion swirls through me.  "But... then why am I here? Surely you saw something different in me if you actually bothered associating with me." Buxton nods. "Yeah, when I met you, I don't know, I just knew you were different. That you weren't like them. I also found it so attractive that you stood up to me. Normally, if I told someone something, they would just deal with it. But you fired back." He smiles at me, and it's different than the smiles he uses at school. It's a gentle, genuine smile. "You want to head upstairs?" He whispers as his gaze drops to my lips. The only permission he needs is a nod and he scoops me up in his arms, briskly walking toward his room.