Every Little Thing

18

A few days later, we're both sitting in French class as Mrs. Manhime explains our team project. I try to focus, but I keep glancing at Reed from out of the corner of my eye, watching the muscle along his jawline thrum as he clenches and unclenches it. He's been stressed out lately, especially since the night we'd had dinner together, and hasn't really talked to me like he usually does. Our conversations have been short intervals, lasting a maximum of fifteen seconds before he turns away from me again. He hasn't invited me to do anything, nor Georgina and Hale, although I don't know if they feel the shift in mood as strongly as I do.

So I focus on the teacher instead, deciding that if he wants to talk to me, he'll have to say so.

"The purpose of the project is for each person of your group to learn something. One of you will write the poem by yourselves, and the other will translate in real-time, without knowing the poem beforehand. Please don't cheat and let each other know. This is meant to help you, not to hurt you."

A collective groan at the familiar words. I swallow my surprise.

"So which one do you want to do?" Reed asks me, and the sound of his voice nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. I give a start, my knee hitting the desk with a loud clang that causes Mrs. Manhime's disapproving gaze to meet mine, just for a second.

When I turn back to Reed, he is smiling, brows raised.

"Whoa," he says, "Didn't mean to scare you with my talking."

"Yeah, well," I reply, flustered, "You've been quiet all morning; I'm not exactly used to it."

His eyes drop as he gives a nod, biting his lower lip without even meaning to.

"About that," he says, softly now, "I'm not—you know, trying to shun you or anything. I'm just not used to sharing so much about—"

"It's okay," I say, with a smile, plastered onto my features in a manner that is hopefully convincing, "I get it. I just hope I didn't pressure you into saying anything you didn't want to."

"You didn't," he says, with a wan smile. "Trust me. You didn't."

"Okay," I say, and then turn back to the board.

"Evelyn?" He says tentatively, and when I look at him from over my shoulder, he says,

"I'll write the poem, if that's okay."

I nod. Of course it is.

________

He catches my shoulder on the way out from class, blue eyes searching mine with a certain kind of urgency, a newfound intensity.

"What is it?" I ask him, shifting my books so that they're in one arm, the other by my side. He breaks into a wide smile, the kind that makes my heart swell a thousand times larger than normal.

"I've been thinking," He says slowly, "About New York. Remember the road trip we were talking about? We should do it. This weekend."

"Oh," I say, somewhat taken aback. I shift on my feet as people begin to make their way past us, pushing and shoving towards the lockers, "Well..."

"Come on, Evelyn," he insists, "I've already talked to Hale about it, and Georgina. They're both on board. I even mentioned it to your mom the other day."

I force back a laugh.

"You really thought of everything, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," he says, with a triumphant glint in his eyes, as if he's already won me over. "I tend to be a thinker, you know."

"Oh, I know," I say, elbowing him jokingly, and then pause for a second. "Well, if everyone else is okay with it...yeah, I'll go."

The smile that graces his features is the greatest part of my agreement. His hand clasps my shoulder as he grins.

"I knew it. I knew you couldn't resist."

"Don't be so full of yourself," I laugh, but in my mind, I know he's right. I would never have been able to refuse.

________

"Come with us," Georgie pleads through the receiver of my phone, "Come on, Evie, you've been dying to see this movie!"

Dying to see the movie, but not dying to be in a theatre with the perfect couple as my only company.

"I don't know," I say, hesitantly, "I might be looking at a night in—"

"You want Reed to come, don't you?"

Her voice isn't demanding, but firm, as if stating a fact. I suck in a breath to protest, but somewhat frustratingly, nothing comes to mind.

There's a long silence. Georgie sighs through her nose.

"Okay. Then call him. Bring him, too."

"Georgina—" I begin to say, but she hangs up before I get the chance to finish a sentence that I never really knew the ending to.

She sounded angry. Is she angry?

Shaking my head, I try to sort out my thoughts, dialing Reed's number. He picks up after the third ring, and his voice is clear and bright as he says,

"Evelyn?"

"Yeah," I respond, flopping back onto my bed and unmade comforter. "Listen, Georgie and Hale just invited me to a movie."

That's all that needs to be said. Reed gives a laugh.

"Ah, the stuff of nightmares."

"Precisely."

"So you're asking me to stop my day—to put my very busy schedule on pause—to be your third-wheeling partner for approximately two hours?"

Guilt twists my stomach. "Well, when you put it like that..."

He interrupts me with a laugh, and suddenly the image of it—the crinkled eyes, the white teeth, body doubled-over—is vivid in my mind. I smile as I imagine it, Reed Bishop laughing, and wait until he's finished.

"Totally kidding, Evelyn. Of course I'll come. Besides, you never know what Georgie and Hale might do—it would be good to have supervision. Teenage hormones, am I right?"

I pinch my eyes closed. "Oh, my God, Reed."

He laughs again. "Again, kidding. Jesus. Lighten up a little."

His tone is jovial and joking and I just shake my head, glancing down at what I have on. I grimace.

"Also, is it socially acceptable to wear sweatpants and an oversized shirt to a movie theatre?"

"Absolutely," he replies, without missing a beat. I hear the smile in his voice as he says, "Bonus points if there's cartoon livestock on them."