Mina

I Did Not

I drove us to a vegan restaurant nearby. I'd never been but I had heard good things about it. Owen had talked non stop about Crip and Will. Normally the incessant talking would have drove me nuts, especially coming from Owen but he was excited and I understood that sometimes you just had to dream. So I sat in silence as I drove and most of dinner as he went on and on about the place, how cool it was, how he missed sports and how bad he wanted to do this.

Near the end of the meal, Owen's plate only partially gone and mine in a similar fashion he turned the conversation on me.

"So are you vegan?" He asked.

The light in the restaurant was dim as the sun started sinking low in the sky. It caught the angles of his face, making him look older. He looked so much like his dad did, sharp features and dark hair.

"No, vegetarian." I supplied.

"Any particular reason?"

He had this smile on his face, not a huge toothy grin like he'd had at Crip but a small one, tugging the corners of his mouth and making his eyes alight with happiness. He seemed less like the obnoxious Owen I had gone through school with when he smiled like that. I think I preferred obnoxious Owen more, he was easier to dislike.

But this Owen, smiling sweetly at me, so full of life, this Owen was hard to dislike.

"Just trying to be healthy." I told him.

There was no way I was going to tell him the truth. That every time I had to watch Penny shove more food down her throat I grew increasingly more disgusted with the thought of eating. That if I was going to eat, I was going to fuel my body with what it needed not what it wanted. And that I had done my research, I checked my weight and BMI like it was a religion and I was determined to never ever be Penny.

"If I'd known eating healthy food tasted like this sooner I'd probably do it more." He laughed.

"Yeah it was pretty good." I agreed. "Though you didn't eat much."

I'm not sure why I said the last part. I didn't care that Owen had visibly lost weight. Part of it was inevitable as the muscles deteriorated from lack of use. Owen had been fit prior to his accident so the muscle loss made sense. He had however lost more than that. Sarah had spoken with his grandma and Jase, voicing concerns. He apparently had been skipping meals frequently.

Owen's gaze dropped, smile falling from his face slightly. "Yeah, filled me up I guess."

For some reason I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Owen was not my problem.

"You know, if you want to get into sports again, you're going to have to give your body proper nutrition." God I sounded like a mom scolding him. "Eating helps."

But Owen seemed to take it all in stride as he let out a low chuckle. "I had no idea."

I rolled my eyes, trying to stop the smile I felt trying to creep it's way on my face. "You're obnoxious."

"Yeah, you like to remind me."

He was infuriating. Why did he have to look like he did? Sound like he did? As hard as I tried, the smile won and I looked down at my half full plate embarrassed. I did not like Owen Savas.

"Someone needs to."

                             ————————

I held the door to Owen's house open for him, his box of leftovers and paperwork in my hand.

The door hadn't even closed behind me when I heard his dad say "did you have fun?".

Owen just stared at his dad, apparently not going to respond so I did.

"Yeah, we did. Thank you." I told him.

They looked even more similar as Mr. Savas stood in the middle of the room in a pair of jeans and a white shirt with food smeared down the front of it.

Mr. Savas stepped forward, taking Owen's things from me. "Good glad to hear it, here I'll take that. I'll just throw this in the fridge."

Owen watched his dad, his head cocked slightly to the side and from where I stood I could just make out a frown that creased his forehead. He was handsome even while he was frowning.

I shook my head as soon as the thought crossed through. What was I thinking?

"I'll see you later." I turned for the door, I needed to leave. Apparently talk some sense into myself.

But just as I started to increase the distance between Owen and I, I felt his fingers wrap around my hand. His skin was warm, burning my cold skin as goosebumps fanned out from his point of contact, slightly rough from callouses that had formed from pushing his wheels.

My heart started to seize up in my chest, my mind panicking. I was not supposed to get goosebumps from a guy, anyone for that fact, but especially not Owen Savas. His brown eyes met mine before I looked back to our hands. I needed to leave.

"Thanks." The sound of his voice, that deep rumble, reverberated through my body, warming my insides. I tried to pull my hand from his but he didn't let go. "Really. Thank you Mina."

His fingers squeezed around mine before he finally let me go. I felt like my body was on fire, the skin that he had touched melting from my bones as I cradled it to my chest. I didn't know it felt like that. That it could feel like that. It had to be all in my mind. There was no other way. And it didn't matter anyway, I'd made my decision. I'd never be Penny.

My eyes met his briefly, startled and wary, scared at my own thoughts. Had someone sucked out all the oxygen in his house? I wasn't sure but I was certain I'd be able to breath outside so without another word I turned, closing the door behind me gently like everything in me wasn't panicking.

I took the longest breath of my life on his front porch. Owen was obnoxious and annoying and irritating and full of himself and I DID NOT like him. My mind was just playing tricks on me. The small little things he did, that smile, his ability to be vulnerable without hesitation, how strong he was. None of those were things warranted me reacting to him. It was all just a mistake.

I took another deep breath, my skin still warm from where he had held on, and walked to my car.

I would never let a man break me.

Especially not Owen.

————————

Apparently the storm last night knocked over a bunch of trees at my parents house. One tree hit the a-frame my dad built for me when I was young as a playhouse. I'm sad. I'm about to head over and see the damage. Crossing my fingers it's not a goner.