Ours After All (All Ours, #2)

Chapter 17

I've had my fair share of awkwardness in this lifetime.

Or enough to last me a lifetime I should say. So I definitely don't need any more of it. So I will do everything in my power to avoid awkward encounters.

But it's pretty hard to live a non-awkward life when you're the most awkward person to probably ever exist.

''Is he here?''

Jenn quirks her brow at me. ''Who?''

''Joshua.'' I clarify. ''Is he here yet?''

She gets a frowny, bit of questionable look on her face. ''Funny. Josh just asked me the same thing.''

A nervous laugh escapes my throat before I can squash it down. So he's here. ''Really? That's...'' terrifying. ''crazy.''

The funny look is still daubed all over her face. ''Are you okay?''

''Why wouldn't I be?''

Why is my voice shaking?

''I don't know.'' Jenn's frown deepens. ''You're being weird.''

''Me?'' I chuckle like an idiot. ''I'm not being weird.''

No way. The girl who got piss-drunk and started making out with her equally as drunk best friend, not even two weeks after finding her cousin riding her boyfriend reverse cowgirl in the bed she slept in most days of the week with him? I'm not weird. Not at all. I'm probably the opposite of weird.

''You're definitely being weird.'' She concedes. ''Are you hungry? You always get like that when you're hungry.''

I actually am. I just had a banana for breakfast today, and that was hours ago. ''Starving.''

''That explains it.''

I wish.

💕

He's avoiding me.

I was expecting today to go lots of ways. Maybe have him come up to me like nothing ever happened and act the way he always does. Maybe have him come up to me and be all weird.

But mainly I thought he'd be mad at the fact that I've been dodging every single one of his texts and calls since The Night about a week ago. I was expecting...confrontation. I was scared he'd freaking jump and choke me the second he saw me but he's...

He's not even looking at me.

And I can't say it doesn't sting, because it does. Like a bitch.

But a small part of me knows it's better this way. It's Soyana's 22nd birthday and we're here to celebrate, not to make a scene. Not to make this about us. I'm fine never talking about this- to just blame the alcohol and move on. That's our best option.

Our only option.

''Could someone hand me the tabbouleh, please?'' the voice I've been trying to block out for about an hour speaks up.

And of course, I happen to be the one sitting right by the tabbouleh.

Reluctantly, I pick up the wooden bowl, trying to keep my hands from shaking and stretching out my arm to hand it over to Josh, making sure I'm not looking anywhere near his face as I do so. Our thumbs clash and I think I'm imagining the shot of electricity that passes through us, but when his eyes snap to mine and something close to shock flashes over them, I know I'm not. But he takes the salad from my hands, and I pull away so frantically, you'd think I just got stung by a bee.