High School Treachery | ✓

13 | Confrontations

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Confrontations

Jalen finally finishes kissing and greeting every Italian man in sight, and orders us each a cup of ice cream, or spumone, as he and the other two men call it.

After introducing them to me as Zio Vittorio, for the older man, and Marco, for the younger one, he hands me my ice cream and gently guides us to a picnic table nearby, while chills form on my arms—something I'd like to attribute to the breeze beginning to blow by and not to Jalen's warm hand lightly pressing against my lower back.

"Were you talking shit about me?" I question as soon as I sit down, making Jalen briefly halt his movements.

After a few seconds, he moves again, swinging his other leg over the bench, sitting down directly in front of me. "Why would you ask that?"

"Usually, when someone switches to a language they know I can't understand, it's to talk shit," I explain, thinking back to all of the times my mother has bad-mouthed me to her side of the family in Spanish, before taking another spoonful of ice cream.

His eyes narrow, following the spoon to my lips and watching as I eat. I become self-conscious, as if I'm somehow eating it wrong. When his gaze stays focused on my mouth long after I've already eaten the spoonful, I start to get the impression that maybe, just maybe, he's staring for another reason.

Another reason that has my stomach swarming, something I'd—once again—like to attribute to the ice cream not settling in right, and not because the thought of Jalen staring at me like that for that reason excites me.

I just got out a relationship a few days ago, for fuck's sake. I can't already think of some other guy in that way. That's too soon, too damn soon... right?

When his eyes finally look away from my lips, and come into contact with mine, I almost want to punch myself for wishing he'd reach across the table and do something, anything. Because with the way the sun is shining onto his blue eyes, and with the new look within them, I just can't take it. He's too good fucking looking.

"So, you like Star Wars?" I blurt out, desperate to shift the conversation somewhere else, not even bothering to point out how he ignored answering my original question. "I really didn't expect that from you."

"I am full of surprises," he says, shrugging a shoulder casually, but his response is anything but casual, because unless my hearing has suddenly become impaired, his voice is deeper as he says the words.

I turn away, deciding to observe the crowds around us as I finish my ice cream. But I can still feel him staring, and I can certainly feel his friend Marco eyeing us from a few feet away.

Facing Jalen again, I notice he's now watching the crowds too, but he's not nearly as on edge as I am. He seems relaxed, more so than I've seen him in the last two weeks I've known him. Even at school or parties, hanging around David, he's never looked this calm.

"You come here often?"

Jalen's head snaps my way, lips curling up into the cutest smile I've ever seen. His dimple pops out, but quickly disappears when Jalen bites his bottom lip, attempting to keep the smile off his face, as he cheekily asks, "Lyndon, are you flirting with me?"

Rethinking over my words, I immediately feel my face growing hot, and I'm praying my cheeks aren't red with embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Mhm," Jalen hums, before finishing off his ice cream and tossing the spoon into the cup. "Sure you didn't. It seems I've given you the wrong impression by bringing you here."