Page 17 of My Best Years
Because down the hall, Callum reaches for Josie’s hand and threads his fingers through hers.
He’s holding her hand. His skin is touching hers.
I think I’m actually going to be sick.
For a split second, Callum’s eyes lift and lock onto mine. Not because he’s trying to make me jealous, but because, in a crowded room, we always seem to find each other like two magnets. It must be a best friend thing.
His brows pinch together in confusion as my eyes fill with water. I can’t look at him anymore, or I might lose it.
I swipe my books from inside my locker, hug them to my chest, and quickly spin around. I start walking as fast as I can toward the other end of the hall while fighting back hot tears.
Before I hear him, I feel him. Like feathers against my spine, I sense him drawing closer.
“Birdie!”he shouts from behind me.
I keep walking. My feet pick up speed until I’m almost running.
“Birdie Wren!”he bellows, his voice getting louder. I know that he’s only steps behind me now.
I keep ignoring him, too afraid to let him see me cry. Callum has seen me cry before…but not over him. God, just the thought of Cal seeing me cry over him and Josie has me wanting to disappear and never show my face again.
My skin burns through the cotton of my shirt when I feel Cal’s fingers cup my right shoulder. I suck in a sharp breath when his chest bumps against my back and he turns us down a nearby hall. He stops in front of the boys' bathroom, swiveling his head left and right to survey the hall before speedily pushing us through the door.
Oh no.
This is not good.
I can’t be in here.
“Callum!What are you doing–”
“Shhh,” he cuts me off, lifting his pointer finger to his lips.
With one hand still on my shoulder, he bends his knees and looks for shoes beneath the four stalls. I’m guessing he doesn't see anyone because he exhales a relieved sigh.
“It’s clear,” he mutters before reaching around my back to turn the lock on the door.
He brings his free hand to my other shoulder, and now, he’s touching me with all ten fingers. His eyes flick between mine, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Callum this close before. Close enough to study his face.
His cobalt eyes look like the clear sky, and his dark hair looks like curls of midnight. He has this freckle beneath his bottom lip that I’ve never noticed before. And I think it's kind of cute.
Is it weird to think that your best friend is…beautiful?
I’d never admit it to Cal, but lately, my stomach has been doing this funny thing when I’m around him. It feels likelittle creatures are doing cartwheels and backflips in my belly.
“Birdie…” Callum stammers. “What’s going on with you? With us?”
I look up at his tall frame through my lashes. Over the past year, it’s felt like Callum has gotten significantly taller each day.
Through the bathroom door, I hear the hallway go silent at the same time the bell rings.
“We’re late for class,” I say, redirecting the conversation.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“I don’t care about being late right now, Birdie,” he replies, intently holding my stare. “I care about you.”
I care about you, too.