“What are they saying about her?” I ask stiffly.
“Just that you two must've broken up or your fling ended. Nothing all that mean from anyone. Just that it didn't work out because you're so different,” Alex says calmly.
“But?” I prompt since I know there has to be something else.
“But people recognize who she is, Killian. Your face dragged her into the spotlight. The one place she never wanted to be. I don't know how she's going to deal with that,” Alex shrugs.
“Not going to go caveman and flip the table are you?” Ian asks.
“No,” I slump down in my seat.
I should be more worried, more upset, but all I keep picturing is that look on Lila’s face as I kissed her neck.
Shit.
Chapter Nine
Lila
“It's barely noticeable now,” Nina says for the fourth time in the past ten minutes.
I've been standing in the bathroom that's placed in between our bedrooms, staring at myself in the mirror.
Nothing has changed. It's Thursday morning and I look normal. I don't feel normal, but I look it. The only abnormal thing currently staring back at me is the little reddish and brown patch of skin below my ear from where Killian kissed me.
Where he gave me a hickey.
“Just put some makeup over it,” Nina suggests.
I should do that. So people quit staring at me. But I've been moving in a daze the last four days and I thought the weirdness of the whole thing would have worn off by now.
It hasn't.
“Let's just go,” I grumble, moving my hair to the front of my chest and flipping off the light.
We make our way to campus, separating at the halfway point to head in opposite directions. It's hot again today, so I'm in shorts and a t-shirt. And while I would kill for my hair to be up, that's just not going to be an option today. At least the wind has a nice breeze going.
I'm about to pass the gym that's to the right of the sidewalk. Unfortunately, it's right next to the art building, so there's no escaping several of the football players that stop to stare at me.
If the sidewalk could open up now and swallow me, that would be fantastic.
“Lila!” I hear my name being hollered, but I pick up the pace and duck my head down. “Lila, stop!”
I jerk to a halt but keep my head down.
“God, you're fast for a little thing,” Alex huffs next to me. His golden hair is flying every which direction in the wind.
“What do you want?”
He ignores the tone in my voice and says, “No hi? Well that's just rude.”
“Hi.”
“You're a little feisty when you're mad, aren't you?”
“Alex,” I snap and he raises his big hands in surrender.
“Just wanted to see how you're doing. If you're okay and all that stuff.”
“I'm fine.”
He snorts. “Yeah, you look completely fine keeping your head down so you don't run into Killian on accident.” He pauses. “Or on purpose.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“That little love bite on your neck says otherwise.”
I slap my hand over my neck, realizing the wind has shifted and is blowing my hair away from my neck. My entire face flames red in embarrassment.
“You two just need to talk,” Alex shrugs and starts walking in the direct of Fine Arts.
“What are you doing now?”
“Walking you to class,” he answers like I'm an idiot for not knowing what he was doing.
“But why?”
“Lila,” Alex breathes in through his nose roughly. “Can you honestly not figure it out on your own or do I actually have to spell it out for you?”
“Killian sent you.” I should have known.
“He saw the pictures last night,” Alex explains and my face goes even more red. I'd seen them Monday morning and noticed how everyone kept following me with their eyes in every room I entered.
“So he feels bad?”
“Why wouldn't he feel bad, Lila? Your friendship, what's left of it, is resting on eggshells.”
His comment about how my friendship with Killian is dwindling makes my stomach hurt and my eyes sting with unshed tears. “Our friendship will be okay.”
“You're aware that you pushed him away, right? That this whole thing pretty much started because you're insecure about your friendship with him.”
I stop walking with him and fuming, say, “You don't know a damn thing about that. I'm not insecure about it.”
Alex says in a level voice, “Then why aren't you talking to him?”
“He's not talking to me!”
Alex rolls his eyes. “So? He knows you don't want anything to do with him. After your outburst on Friday and then on Sunday, you both haven't had an actual conversation. It's almost been a week. You two don't ever not talk to one another.”
Well, he's got me there. This might be the longest Killian and I have ever gone without talking or seeing one another.
“So just say something. Because he feels like shit, he's been playing like shit, and I don't want coach to bench him this weekend when you two can just make up and go back to normal.”
“He kissed me, Alex.”
“And? Unless you're telling me that you liked it or that it repulsed you to no end, then it should be easy to move on from.”
It feels like the entire world freezes at that. It's been four days since it happened and I've been so busy keeping myself distracted from thoughts of Killian that I never stopped to think about how that kiss felt.
Did I like it?
A warm feeling settles low in my belly and goosebumps break out across my skin. The side of my neck tingles with the faint memory of his mouth pressing tightly against it, his teeth moving gently and the faint scratch of his stubble gliding against my skin.
“I don't know,” I finally say.
Alex stares at me silently, like he's trying to read my mind on the fact that I possibly could have liked it but aren't saying it. And I'm definitely not admitting anything out loud to him.
If I did like it, then it would change everything. And then I would lose everything as well.
“You both are idiots,” Alex sighs. “Complete idiots. Just talk to one another.”
“Why do you care so much? So football doesn't get ruined?” I practically sneer.
He gives me a placating smile. “That's me,” he says sarcastically. “Only looking out for my friends career so he can get to the NFL like he's always dreamed about. Has absolutely nothing to do with caring about him and his happiness.”
I wince.
“You're really on a role with this whole self-destruction thing you've got going on.”
“I'm sorry.”
“See?” Alex visibly relaxes. “Was that so hard to say?”
“No,” I grumble.
“Just talk to him. Get him to get his head out of his ass and stop acting like a mopey girl.”
“He's acting like a mopey girl?” I snort.
“Yes, and you're acting like a jerk. Guess you've flipped roles.”
“That's harsh,” I scowl at him as we stop in front of the main doors to the building.
Alex doesn't look too concerned about my angry look. “Just stating the truth for you. So will you talk to him?”
“Yeah,” I sigh and tug my hair forward as people pass us. “I'll talk to him.”
“And you'll be nice?”
“Yes,” I frown. “I'll be nice to him.”
“Thank God. I can't keep dealing with a mopey Killian,” Alex sighs heavily. “See you around, Lila.”
We wave to one another as he jogs back towards the gym, where his football buddies are still milling around talking to each other.
I make my way upstairs, only to come face to face with Jared and his new girlfriend. His eye his still black and swollen, and even though Killian and I are on the outs right now, I can't help but feel a little smug about
Jared’s now imperfect face.
“Lila,” Jared looks around and stands a little behind his girlfriend.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
The girl looks me over. I've only seen her maybe a handful of times here on campus since freshman year. She looks vaguely familiar but I know I've never talked to her before.
“So you're Lila,” the girl practically sneers.
“Yup. I'd say it was nice meeting you,” I give her a fake smile, “but it wasn't. Then or now.”
I'm far too proud of myself as I climb up the stairs to get around them, leaving them behind and speechless.
After getting into class, I shift my easel and get all of things together before the professor walks in. One of my friends, Jane, takes the easel next to mine.
“Get some action lately?” she teases.
“What?” I ask.
She points towards my neck and I wince. “Looks kind of old. Was is Brad?”
“No,” I answer slowly. Not a lot of people in this building follow the great Killian Blane around or gossip about him. So it's not surprising that she has no idea what happened on Sunday.
“You're seeing multiple guys!” Jane gapes. “I wish I had the confidence to do that.”
“I'm not seeing multiple guys.”
“So you got attacked by the vacuum cleaner?” she asks jokingly.
“I...was at a party and this guy and I were dancing and it just,” I pause trying to think of a way to explain it but just go with, “happened.”
“Was he hot?”
I swallow deeply. “I guess so.”
“Did he make your heart flutter?” Jane asks whimsically. “I just imagine two people meeting at a party and falling in love and being that couple that everyone is envious of because they're so perfect together.”
“Ah.”
“So did you get, you know, a flutter or something?”
Remembering the heat in my belly, I blush and look at my sketchbook, “I guess I felt something.”
“Just not with Brad,” she clarifies.
“Nope. Brad just likes me because I don't like Killian.” Or I didn't at least. Now I have no idea. And after last night, running into Brad, and him demanding where the hickey came from, I told him I just wasn't interested in seeing him anymore.
“Killian's pretty hot,” Jane grins. “I don't know how you can think straight around him all the time.”
Clearly with how I've been acting the past week, thinking straight isn't exactly what I was doing. “I don't know.”
Jane gives me a funny look. “Is everything alright? Was the hot guy just a fling or something and you want it to be more?” Her gaze turns whimsical again.
“I don't know.” I drop down into the floor to sit and prop my chin on my knees. “Things are complicated.”
“So uncomplicate then.”
“It's not that easy.”
“Why? Is it one of Killian’s friends?” Jane asks. “I know how overprotective he can be. Does he not know?”
“It was a football player,” I finally manage to force out. “But the majority of the football team are manwhores so it probably didn't mean anything.”
Wasn't that was Killian was trying to tell me? He didn't know it was me and was just doing his normal weekend partying when I came along?
How he called me hot like it was extremely obvious to everyone but me.
“Well that makes sense why you'd be so conflicted over it,” Jane muses. “Do you think he was interested in you?”
“Um,” I swallow my suddenly dry throat and think back to the feel of him pressed up against me. “Maybe?”
“Well it seems like he was probably really into you with the way he gave you a hickey. I didn't think people outside of high school gave hickies anymore,” she laughs.
“I didn't realize my neck was so sensitive,” I blush. “I didn't even know who he was until the very last moment.”
“Aw,” Jane sighs dreamily. “This is like the beginning of a beautiful romance.”
Or an epic disaster.
“So you realized he was close to Killian and now it's turning into some forbidden love ordeal.”
“No one is in love. I don't even know how I feel right now about it.”
“I mean do you think it's worth it?” Jane asks. “If you feel something that is.”
“I have no idea. I just feel really confused and out of sorts.”
“Sounds about normal. So what are you going to do about it?”
I sigh. “Guess I'm going to go see him after classes and hopefully not screw up my apology.”
“Your apology?”
“I was kind of mean,” I wince.
“It's never good to be mean to someone you like,” Jane chastises. “Especially if he made you feel something.”
“I guess,” I answer vaguely.
I'm saved from having to go on with this conversation when the professor walks in with our model that we draw. And from there, at least for an hour, I don't have to think about how the last seven days have wrecked havoc on my life and made me ultimately confused.
What if I actually started to have feelings beyond just friendship for Killian?
Chapter Ten
Killian
The door to the locker room opens again, and even though it's been almost two weeks since it happened last, it's like witnessing a moment repeat itself in time.
“There's a girl in the locker room!” someone bellows.
Coach Stephen raises his eyebrows at me from where he's standing talking to the assistant coach. And it's then that it clicks and I know it's Lila who just barged her way into the guys locker room. How she's able to do that without getting caught is still a mystery to me.
Her red hair swings around her shoulders as she rounds the corner and halts about eight feet away. The storm clouds in her eyes turn hazy and I realize that she's staring at my chest with that glassy look.
I'm only in basketball shorts and my shoes. Haven't had time to throw my shirt on yet since practice let out over five minutes ago. But the fact that my bare chest stops her in her tracks, makes me a little proud and a whole lot confused.
“Lila?” I question as I take a step towards her.
Her whole body shifts one step away in a jerky movement. The hair that had been hiding her face, now falling away to reveal a little mark on her neck. This time it's me to goes stone still.
Did I do that?
“I'm sorry,” she suddenly blurts out.
She looks so uncomfortable that it snaps me out of my own daze. “What?”
“I'm sorry,” she repeats slowly.
“Sorry about what?” My heart's beating a rhythm far too quick for my liking.
“For saying that our friendship was a problem. It's not. I was worried about Brad wanting to be with me to get to you, and how it's happened before, that I just took it out on you.”
I don't say anything. I'm not sure what to say.
“But it wasn't like that. He actually hates you. Apparently you slept with his girlfriend freshman year and so he just doesn't want to be with a girl who's actually into you. But then he spent the whole night pretty much belittling me that I'm not your type because I'm not hot enough.”
At least her comment about demanding to know if she was hot at the party suddenly made sense.
“So I'm sorry.”
“I don't sleep with taken girls.” It's the first thing that pops out of my mouth before I can think more about what she said.
“I know you don't,” she sighs. “I told him that, too. Didn't seem to care too much if you knew or not.”
We both grow quiet as the others in the locker room start to clear out to give us privacy. How two weeks managed to flip my world upside down, I have no idea. But I hate this feeling of not being close to her anymore.
“Everything is weird now.”
“Yeah,” I sigh and walk towards her until we're only two feet apart. I cross my arms over my chest so I don't reach out and yank h
er to me in a hug. “It is. I'm sorry about what happened on Sunday night.”
Lila’s face turns red and she glances around, but we're pretty much alone except for the few guys at the far end of the room. Even Coach is gone.
“It was a mistake.”
“Right,” she clears her throat. “It was.”
She goes to say something else but makes a squeaky noise when I cup my hand around the back of her head and tilt it to the side to get a better view of the mark on her neck.
“Killian?” she breathes out and her eyes have gone glassy again.
“This mark,” I brush a fingertip across it and watch her shiver, “did I do this to you?”
“Um.”
“Did Bradley do this?” I frown. I'm suddenly feeling very irrational about the thought of Bradley touching her in the same spot I did.
Which is ridiculous, I remind myself. But I don't care.
“Lila?”
“I can't think straight when you're touching me,” she admits softly.
Yup. That proud feeling is starting to overtake the confusion. “Why not?”
“I just can't.” She swallows.
“So who did this?” I run my finger back over the mark and she must be able to feel it, because her eyes drift to half-mast.
“You.”
Me.
“At the party.” Her voice has gone back to being squeaky. “When you, uh, kissed me.”
I really want to kiss you properly right now.
Okay, I feel my body go still again. Am I really having these thoughts about my best friend? About Lila, who's always been there?
Yeah, I guess I am.
Her gunmetal eyes look up at me and I'm suddenly a lot closer to her than I thought I was. We're almost touching, but not quite there yet.
I clear my throat and take a small step backwards. Apparently having her in close proximity makes it hard to think straight, too.
“So now what?” she asks softly.
“Do you want to grab some food?” I ask her. “A bunch of us were headed to the Union.”
“The only place in town that can feed the whole football team,” she jokes.
I relax and smile at her. “You got it, baby doll.”
The Wrong Way: Hanson University: One Page 7
