Within the Lines

9.

I didn't exactly know what I expected Atticus to do after Mandy spread the news that I was asking about him. Nothing, I guessed. Like normal people. Shrug and acknowledge someone was curious about him, before moving on with his life and enjoying the party.

I certainly hadn't expected the tall-like-a-tree running back of the varsity football team to do what he actually did: storm out.

For a moment I just stood there, perplexed. Then the realisation that Atticus was my ride home hit me. He wasn't leaving the party without me, was he? 

If he was, there was no way I'd catch up with him before he reached the car. So instead of following Atticus out, I took a shortcut to the parking lot by sneaking through the emergency exit. The only one in the school that wasn't currently connected to an alarm system because of the party. 

I made it to the family car before Atticus, who followed the proper exit etiquette, did. His movements stilted for a brief moment when he saw me. Then he simply pushed past me and confirmed my suspicions: he was leaving. 

"Hey, I'm supposed to drive with you, remember?" I said, stepping closer but not exactly  feeling lucky enough to physically try to stop Atticus from entering the car. "I'm not walking two hours. I missed football training, I'm not equipped for that kind of distance yet." 

Atticus' shoulders twitched and his eyebrows knit together. Humour was apparently not the way to go with him to lighten the mood, but I didn't have much else to offer. Shit. 

"Get in the car, then," Atticus replied flatly, without looking at me. "Or call Mom or Paul to pick you up later." 

"... Alright." 

I stepped closer to the car, hesitating on what to do. I didn't want to leave the party I'd helped organise this early, but I also wanted to know what the hell was going on with Atticus. It seemed like a huge overreaction if it was about Mandy giggling with Jonah's friends. Leaving just because a couple of people were gossiping about Jonah and him? That sounded kind of ridiculous. Even if Jonah was his ex. 

Either way, I had to make a decision now. Atticus manoeuvred himself into the driver's seat and I had a feeling he wouldn't wait for me for long. He never did.

My curiosity made the decision for me. On an impulse I reached for the car door handle and got inside. I could always take the car back to school after Atticus drove us home. 

Atticus looked like he would've rather left me on the parking lot. He had this sour, biting a lemon rind expression again. Except, he was flushed and red like a tomato, too. Instead of starting the car, he slowly looked up at me from the driver's seat. 

"If you want me to act normal, then don't talk about me with Mandy."

Normal? I raised my brows. Did Atticus even know what that word meant? He'd just stormed out like he was on some drama reality T.V. show because of some high school gossip. He'd been treating me like an intruder in his house from day one, and was still hardly civil. 

"Oh," I said. "You call storming out of a party just because I asked Mandy whether you and Jonah ever dated, acting normal?"  

Atticus' jaw clenched. He didn't reply. He didn't look at me either as he turned the key in the ignition. 

I crossed my arms. "You don't like me being your stepbrother and suddenly poppin' up out of country bumpkin middle of nowhere to intrude on your life. Message, or rather silence, received, alright?" 

The silence following my sharp remark was deafening. I broke it by chuckling nervously when Atticus' face scrunched up further. Oh crap, he was going to throw me out of the car now wasn't he?

I imagined him blowing up at me, but Atticus did the exact opposite of what I expected him to do. 

He chuckled. It was a small chuckle, hardly audible and visible but hallelujah, I didn't know he had it in him. The only expressions I'd seen on his face thus far ranged from sweet tarts sour to toxic waste sour. 

His laugh was incredibly contagious though, and automatically made the corners of my lips turn up, too. I should stop trying to predict what  Atticus would do, because clearly there was no logic in his reactions whatsoever.

Atticus still refused to meet my gaze as he muttered his reply: "Well, you're right about one thing: I really don't want you to be my stepbrother." 

"It's not like I can go anywhere to get out of your hair for now, alright?" I shrugged. "And your city's ant-crawlingly crowded hallways ain't exactly my thing either, but I try to make the best of it."

Atticus' smile was entirely gone now, and mine faded too. Okay, the moment of relative normalcy and actually laughing together was over. Too bad, I kind of liked it better. But Atticus seemed a lot calmer now. The storm in his eyes had subsided. 

I sighed. "Okay, let's try startin' over one last time? I won't ask people about you. Instead, I'll just ask you if I want to know something."  

Finally, Atticus' head turned my way. 

"Alright," he muttered.

His expression was lemon-sour with a sprinkle of doubt now. Not the worst expression he could have. I hadn't done anything special, but he didn't seem quite as hostile and closed off to conversation right now for some reason. I didn't even have to slam his head on the table. 

"Let's hang out or somethin,'" I suggested, smiling and unable to not slip in another joke. "Like normal people. Did you eat dinner yet?" 

I was pretty sure he hadn't because Becky made us quite unexpectedly stay at the school building all afternoon before the party started. She'd arranged sandwiches but that wasn't nearly enough. Now that I paid attention to it, my stomach rumbled loudly. 

Atticus' head cocked to the side. "Now?"

"I mean, they sell snacks and stuff here at the party." I jutted a thumb over my shoulder. "But that's not dinner. We could go get some food for the Student Council, too and then drive back to the party."

I made the offer, assuming Atticus decline and tell me he wanted to go home. 

Instead, he sighed. "Sure." 

He left me staring at him in surprise. Again, I wondered if Atticus would ever loosen up, or do what I expected him to do. Or if he would ever start making sense.

Atticus steered the car to the exit of the parking lot before turning to me.

"Where to?"