Lavender

Chapter Fifteen

Before going to the carnival, Wyatt and I have dinner at Red Lobster's. He talks about how rigorous the basketball team is and informs me their first game is next week. I listen intently and even tell him about how great all of my classes are. He's struggling in his but is passing them, barely. At that, I reach across the table and take his hand in mine. I'm not surprised he's having difficulties with his classes; I often tutored him and spent countless hours with him doing homework when we were in high school. Whereas I understood the coursework without any trouble, he didn't understand anything and even suggested dropping out multiple times. But with a little encouragement and a lot of studying, he got through it and he's still one of the brightest people I know.

"So, how did you and that Holden guy become friends? You two met in your English class, right?" Wyatt asks.

As I put the fork into my mouth, a waiter brushes past my arm and a memory plays in my mind: of Holden's large hand on my thigh. I remember feeling my skin set on fire as if his hand was touching my bare skin and not the fabric. And when he moved his hand up and his cold fingertips almost touched me there... Electricity shoots through my body, and my fork hits the plate. The waiter looks back concerned and Wyatt reaches out to grab my hand. I give the waiter an assuring smile, then squeeze Wyatt's hand. I can't believe I just thought of that horrific moment while on a date with my boyfriend.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I say quickly and drink my water to wash down the alarm. I pick up my fork and push the food around on my plate, attempting to ignore his question.

"Lavender?" he says.

"Hmm?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"About?" I try harder to evade.

"You and Holden." He chuckles lightly, and I cringe.

"Oh... he forgot his pen one day and asked to borrow one of mine. I leant him one and a conversation struck. We have a lot in common and are friends with the same people. But we aren't best friends or anything."

"But he was in your room," he points out and cracks open a carb leg. I finch at the sound and listen to my heartbeat sing in my ears. If it weren't for his smooth voice and easy tone, I would think he's onto my past heinous actions, but he seems clueless. I feel guilty but relieved at the same time. I'm trying to move forward and not ruin my relationship with Wyatt.

"And so were Cammie and Daphne. You've met them, remember? Well, they were all watching a movie and fell asleep. But it was dark, so you didn't see them. But they were there," I emphasize, and he frowns for a split second but then smiles and nods.

"Okay... anyways, let me tell you how awful my social studies professor is," he groans with an annoyed eye roll.

He starts ranting about the professor who sleeps half the time he's teaching, and when he's awake he screams at the kids and makes them read long passages. I listen and give him my full attention. Though my mind does wander off to remember the numerous times Holden would sit beside me whispering how much he wanted to flee the country and Professor Smith's droning. I would laugh before I could help myself, which always egged him on and kept him going on and on about how bored he was. I tried not to entertain him, but I almost always did. He's very persuasive and genuinely humorous when he isn't being an a-hole. Stop thinking about Holden. You are on a date with your boyfriend, my subconscious scolds. I re-focus my attention and squeeze my fingers in Holden's, making him smile and grip a little tighter. We make conversations about various topics that eave my mind the moment we leave the dimly lit restaurant.

Walking up to the ticket booth at the carnival and noticing how crowded the place is, we turn around and decide to spend the rest of the night on the boardwalk where it'll be relatively calm, especially since everyone is going to the carnival for Halloween related scares and rollercoasters. I hate rollercoasters anyways; they just make me feel dizzy and extremely nauseous. Like the time Wyatt dragged me to Six Flags and begged me to ride one of their scariest rides with him. And to add to my sheer terror, we sat in the very front. I don't even remember how he convinced me to agree to that, but I do remember passing out when we plummeted down from the monstrous height at the top. All I remember about the ride was how ridiculously fast it was, there were unnecessary loops, and I wanted to kill Wyatt with every twist and turn. Afterward, I didn't speak for him for the rest of our time there. I only cracked a smile the day after when he showed up at my house with a new writing journal and a lengthy apology.

At the now funny memory, I lay my head on his arm as we stroll down the boardwalk. He may be my complete opposite in all the ways I can think of; he pulls me out of my comfort zone and is easily the best person I know. I've missed holding his hand and listening to him complain about teachers. He is nice company, unlike another person I know. If Holden were here, he'd be teasing me about my hair getting ruffled by the slight wind. He'd mock me and chase me as I stormed away from him. But when he caught me, he would apologize but clearly not mean it and kiss me to make me forget about the whole thing. And I would let him because his pink lips are so soft and warm...

"I like your dress. You look very pretty," Wyatt says.

"Thank you." I blush, and he smiles.

I seriously need to stop thinking about Holden and start thinking about Wyatt.

Swinging our hands back and forth, I look at a speaker attached to a souvenir store and listen to the upbeat pop music filling the area. "I forgot the boardwalk plays this kind of music. We should listen to mine. We can share headphones. I recently discovered Led Zeppelin, and their music is out of this world. You have to give them a listen," I tell him with a big smile, but he laughs.

"You know I don't like your style of music. It's all old and indie folk rock. I'm more of a Marshmello kind of guy," he says in a tone that makes me feel stupid for forgetting our obvious divide in musical taste, upon many other things.

"Right... of course." I smile.