Georgia Boys

15. in which we lounge about

SOBBING not me updating this after a month ! i promise i have not forsaken the lomls. anyway, here u go <3

***

Between Quincy and I, nothing is like it was before. And yet, everything is eerily similar to what it was before. After the night we kissed, we spend just as much time in each other's company as we did before. We spend long days together. I spend more time being dragged across town by Quincy than I do preparing for the competition. 

He always drops by; at a daily basis now. He sits on the front stool he's claimed as his own and he looks at me so openly that I have to cast my gaze away. But he always wants me to look at him; so he waits and he stares because he knows that I'll eventually look up. 

It's been three days since we've kissed and our days have been long and hot, but they've felt short. I want to ask him how he knew he liked me, if he was sure. I had to know. He'd said he was jealous of Robbie, he'd virtually described his type as someone like me. I don't think Quincy necessarily had one type, but apparently I was one of them.

I was somewhat frustrated with myself and him for making me feel this way. It was frightening to like someone, especially someone who is liked by everyone. And it's frightening when you've dismissed that person as an annoying childhood friend up when they mean so much more to you.

Did a summer do this, or have I been in self denial for far longer?

"What are you thinking about?" 

Quincy's next to me. We're laying down on Maxine's front porch. The parents are out and all eight of us are sprawled about Max's place. Max is in her front yard, sharing a glass of liquor with Cedar. Oliver and Luna are listening to music, laying down on their stomachs, Luna picking out strands of grass. Micah's asleep on the mat next to Quincy and I, and Drew is making ramen indoors.

The sun is high in the sky and our eyelids are droopy and lazy. 

I keep my eyes on the sky. "I don't know," I reply. "Everything?" 

Quincy's eyes are still on me, my eyes are still on the sky. 

Finally, I turn my head to the left and look at him. My stomach is all butterflies. Did I feel this before, or am I just noticing? Maybe I was too busy being annoyed by Quincy than paying attention to the way my whole body reacts to him.

"Everything like what?" He props his head up, eyes on mine.

"Dunno."

Quincy smiles a little bit. "Really, now?"

"You like me," I said, tone warring between a question and a statement.

"Yes, I figured that you would have gotten that, if not by the blatant hints, then by our kiss."

The butterflies are getting worse. I swallow. 

"What did you think?" I ask suddenly. "In that moment. When you kissed me."

Quincy pauses for a moment before answering. "I thought about how long I've been waiting, how relieved I felt when you kissed me."

"What do you mean, waiting?" I ask.

Quincy looks at me strangely. "I'm pretty sure I've liked you for years. And the feelings only got stronger, even when you seemed to see me as the most annoying person in the world. Pretty sure that would have turned anyone off, so there's definitely something wrong with me."

"I agree."

Quincy laughs. "Bitch."

I smile. "Stockholm Syndrome, I swear to God."