Mismatched Compatibility (A and D Spin-Off)

Mismatched Compatibility (16)

Dana:

It wasn't as dirty as Ethan said it would be. I knew he was joking. However, he was right about one thing; I shouldn't have wondered alone.

I had no idea where I was. The teenagers in films made it so easy, going around in an unfamiliar place and seeming like they've lived all their lives there by the end of the day. It wasn't quite like that in real life.

Although, I had to say, I felt slightly giddy because this high school looked exactly like what I expected. So instead of worrying about being lost, I just enjoyed my time roaming around. The people walking around didn't mind me, which I was more than grateful for. I simply wanted to inhale my moment here in this normality.

My phone beeped, informing me that I received a text message. I took it out from my pocket and saw that Ethan texted me.

Ethan Tyler:

Where R U?

I looked around the hallway, and replied.

Daniella Howard:

I'm by the trophy case.

I wonder why he asked that. He couldn't possibly be here already. It was only three in the afternoon. Knowing him, he was probably only checking up on me to see if I was still alive.

Imagine my startle when a few minutes later, someone spoke behind me.

“Yo,” he grinned, looking very pleased with himself.

There Ethan was, looking just as good as he did this morning. Oh, how humiliating that was. I didn't want to remember how easily my mind got filled with fantasies of him. I honestly needed to get a grip.

“What are you doing here this early?” I almost stuttered.

“I wanna check the place out before the game,” he easily answered, his eyes wandering around. “So far, nothing has changed.” His eyes landed on me again, quite obviously checking me out. “Why aren't you wearing my jersey?”

I tilted my head at that. “You said to wear it during the game.”

“Right.” He nodded. “I changed my mind. Go wear it now,” he added in a very bossy tone that always got me feeling challenged.

I raised an eyebrow. “Who are you to order me?”

He smirked. “You're telling me that you don't want to wear it?”

I didn't say that.

“I'm telling you not to tell me what to do,” I countered. “Why are you in such a hurry, anyway? Are you that desperate to claim me?” I added as a joke.

“Maybe,” he said, without breaking eye contact.

I wasn't able to answer, taken aback by his straightforwardness.

Why did I feel like he's not joking?

Because he isn't, a part of me said.

I know when someone is playing with words. I know how to tell when someone is saying one thing but mean another. I know when someone is being truthful.

Ethan meant “yes” when he answered “maybe.” I could see it in his eyes.

“I'm going to change,” was the only thing I could say.