Within the Lines

16.

Atticus ended up completely taking over the whole attaching the wild horses painting to the living room wall. He drilled a hole, while I just awkwardly stood there with nothing to do.

Couldn't leave either, because Chiara was making lemonade for us in the kitchen.

Just to make things even more awkward, the front door opened in the hallway. Dad came home, right at the moment Chiara walked into the living room with two glasses of lemonade.

"Too bad, the lemonade is only for the people who helped with the painting," Chiara teased Dad, going into the kitchen to pour him a glass anyway after he pressed a kiss to her cheek.  

Atticus and I stood in the living room, both with a glass of lemonade in hand while we heard giggles and kissing sounds coming from the kitchen. 

We both didn't want to stick around longer then necessary it seemed. Atticus drained his glass incredibly quickly and fled to the study for homework.

I made some more small talk with Chiara and Dad, and managed to get away about ten minutes later, after promising I'd clean up the mess in the garden when the paint was dry.

On the way upstairs I contemplated my incredibly poor life decisions. I had my suspicions as to why Atticus didn't go upstairs like I did. He was likely freaking out and ranting to Jonah. Great, because I really wanted the fact that I asked my stepbrother out spreading in school. 

Why on earth had I done that? Atticus was obviously not talking about me. 

I resorted to self-loathingly telling Taylor and Jenny the whole story online.

Jenny thought I should act like nothing had happened, be confident. Taylor suggested briefly apologizing for overstepping lines and then keeping some distance.

I chose secret option number three: eating a month's worth of chocolate chip cookies in bed while watching contemporary romantic comedies on Netflix.

The two main characters were just about to kiss when my door slowly opened.

I sat up so fast my earbuds slipped out of my ears and laptop nearly slid off my lap and onto the floor.

Atticus appeared in the door opening. "Sorry," he said with a grimace. "I knocked. Several times the last two hours. But you didn't respond."

His eyes darted to the space on the floor next to me, and I was very acutely aware my room was filled with empty chocolate chip cookie wrappings.

I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I know; don't eat crap while you're on the football team. I don't think I can give my cookies up. That's just not the way the cookie crumbles."

Atticus didn't smile at my joke. His eyes trained on the back of my laptop.

"Yes," he suddenly said.

"Yes?"

"Yes, when you move out..." Atticus trailed off. "Yes, I'd like that."

Atticus hung out with Corey too much. He didn't explain what he was talking about either. Except, with Atticus I did understand what he meant.

"Whew!" I released a breath through my mouth, blowing the air up to my face, which felt like it was burning all over. "Good. Imagine the awkwardness if you'd said no? I'm so glad this is not one-sided it's unbelievable."