Chapter 36: ♠Chapter 28♠

♠CHRIS♠

I couldn’t stop looking at her and it was gonna get me in trouble.

I had no clue what it was, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. The worst part is, it wasn’t just today. Ever since she started avoiding me, I was subjected to watching her laugh and talk to everybody else except me, and that had me noticing things I never dwelled on before. It bothered me and it shouldn’t have, at least not to the extent it did.

All I knew at the time was that the only plausible reason for her to be ignoring me had to do with her seeing me practically naked. I had a feeling it was because of something her mother had said. I thought her mother had told her she should stay away from me or something and that’s why it had me stressing out, especially since she never answered any of my questions or texts and barely spoke to me. I quickly threw that thought out the window when I found out they were coming over for Thanksgiving. That’s when I realized she was deliberately — all on her own — ignoring me. And it pissed me off.

But I could never get so angry at her as to raise my voice, especially after seeing her all dolled up today. So I settled on demanding her tell me as firmly as I can. I can never stay mad at her and that’s the sucky part.

Maybe it’s the part of me that thinks she’ll go right back to ignoring me even after talking about what happened. She’s like that. Even when I apologize for something, it still takes her a while to actually start talking to me normally again.

I still can’t believe she was ignoring me because she got the sex talk. I totally get that it’s embarrassing and all, but that was no reason to make me feel like I was banned from seeing her. She even started taking the bus home again after that — refusing that I take her home like we’ve come accustomed to over the past couple of weeks.

Well I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t tell her I got another one of those talks that night she had dinner with us and I came back after taking her home. My mom had proceeded to tell me not to get her pregnant even after I repeatedly let her know Ariana and I weren’t that close. She simply didn’t care and I let her talk all her nonsense. She constantly thinks I’m having sex and sometimes I’m tempted to tell her I’m not, but it’s entertaining sometimes with the things she comes up with to ‘keep’ me using protection.

But if I keep staring at Ari, I’ll no doubt get that talk again and I didn’t need it. My mother makes it her mission to remind me how smart and necessary protection is, even though I already know that and I have no sexual relation with the person.

It was something about her though. Something different. I think seeing her with her natural hair out is doing something to my brain. It has to be that. Or maybe…

“Have you gained weight?”

She stopped on the stairs and my eyes widened.

Why the fuck did you say that for!?

She started to turn and I was stuttering out my reply before she even fully faced me.

“What did you just say to me?” she cuts off my rambling, her voice dangerously low.

I swallowed hardly, shaking my head, “Th-that’s not what I-” I stopped when she suddenly turned her back and started stomping down the stairs. And I panicked, which made me freeze up and watch her back with my mouth hanging open.

“Why did I say that?” I muttered, questioning my sanity, “Fucking idiot.”

I came back to earth after noticing she was already at the bottom of the stairs — almost out of sight. I hurried down the steps, almost tripping a couple times, “Ari!” I called out, “Babe that’s not what I meant!”

When I looked at the end of the stairs again she was already turning the corner to the living room. Probably where our moms were. So I took the stairs two at a time with my hand on the banister to make sure I don’t fall the rest of the way down and break my neck. I ran into the room, my palms up, getting ready to defend myself in case they attacked, but it was just her sitting on the couch, scrolling on her phone. I sighed, making my way over and sat next to her, but not too close in case she loses control of her hands.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said lowly.

Her response didn’t come verbally. I watched her get up wordlessly then went and plop down on another couch across the room, crossing her legs.

And again I couldn’t do anything but gape at her because I had no idea what to do or say to make it better. I didn’t mean anything by it just like I said. It was just a question that I obviously shouldn’t have voiced out loud. It was a spur of the moment thing where I didn’t think about what I was saying. I do it all the time and she knows this. Not that it’s an excuse, it’s just something I haven’t mastered yet.

I know, I’m a senior in high school and I still stutter and ramble without thinking occasionally and it’s stupid. Most people don’t usually see it because I don’t talk to people like I talk to her. Nate sees it because he’s my best friend, but when it comes to females, I simply don’t know how to please them after knowing them for a while. Because you get comfortable and you’re not strangers anymore, so you have a lot to say.

And like I’ve stated before, I don’t think before I speak most of the time and even when I do, it’s after I say it that I hear how wrong it sounds. Occasionally, shit like that happens when I have conversations with some of my female friends, but it doesn’t happen often because I don’t talk as much in large crowds. I’ll say a word or two but not too much. Mostly because of this.

I was only aware that I was staring at her in a daze when I heard: “What happened? You look like she kicked you.”

My head snapped up and I don’t know why, but I got up as quick as I can and looked over to see both our moms standing side by side in the living room entrance. Both their eyes were jumping from me to her, waiting for one of us to say something.

My mother will kill me if she-

“Your son,” came from behind me and I spun around, “thinks I’ve gotten fat.”

She was standing now, her face impassive and I realized I really fucked up.

“I-I-” stuttering, I turned back to my mom. Her mother already had her arms crossed and was staring at me. Her face was blank but I could tell she wanted to kill me.

I shook my head, my gaze going to my mom, but she was looking past me, “Mom I didn’t- I would never-” I turned back to Ari, glaring, and she glared right back at me, “I did not call you fat.”

She blinked in a sarcastic way, tilting her head, “Oh, so I was supposed to take,” her voice lowered dramatically, “‘have you gained weight’ as you giving me a compliment?” she retorts.

“That doesn’t mean I think you’re fat. It was a simple question!”

“It wasn’t a simple question!” she exclaimed, “You don’t get to ask me if I gained weight! You know why? Cause it’s your fault!”

“My fault!?” I exclaimed incredulously, “How-”

“If you finish that, I swear, Christian, I’ll break something on you,” she cuts me off, her eyes narrowed to slits.

After realizing why that was a stupid question, I pressed my lips together. I knew what she was getting at.

I let out a breath and held my hand out to her as I spoke, “I might buy stuff for you to eat, but you eat it all on your own.”

“You force me to eat everything,” she said, her face blank and her arms crossed.

“No I don’t-”

“You’re on a lying streak today aren’t you,” she says sarcastically.

I reached up, running my hands down my hot face. I probably looked like a stop sign.

“So I take it you guys aren’t gonna make cookies then?” my mom said, reminding me that I was gonna ask Ariana to bake cookies with me. From scratch. I thought it would be fun but it’s obviously not gonna happen now.

“Oh!” I heard Ari say. It was too high pitched to be genuine surprise, and I looked back at her, exasperated, “It would be best if we didn’t, seeing as I’m fat and all.”

I honestly didn’t know what to do as she glared at me and marched away. My eyes followed her as she made her way past our moms and to the kitchen. And I kept my eyes where she disappeared, until I felt a sting on the back of my head.

“Mom!” I exclaimed, ducking away and rubbing my head as I faced her passive expression.

“I raised you better than to call a woman fat, Christian,” she scolded.

“I didn’t call her fat!” I said helplessly, my voice cracking embarrassingly at the end. My attention drew to her mom who was looking at me, no emotion on her face, “I didn’t, I swear.”

“You are going to go in that kitchen,” my mom said threateningly, pointing in the direction she left, “And you are going to apologize to her for however many times you have to until she forgives you.”

I made a face, swallowing the lump in my throat, “How many times exactly do you think that is?” she glared in response and I held my hands up to keep from getting another hit, “Okay, I’m going.”

I sighed, running a hand down my face, hoping to get rid of some of the redness. Before I left I heard: “It’s not Thanksgiving without drama.”

Entering the kitchen — my kitchen — shouldn’t have made me as nervous as I was. I quickly found that my heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty along with the small beads of sweat forming across my forehead.

I shouldn't be this nervous.

She was standing at the counter, leaning next to the sink with a bottle of water in her hand, turning it over and over. I made my way around the breakfast island, toward her, but kept enough space between us.

“You know it’s not a big deal, Ari. Why are you acting like this?” Is what I said. And the way her head snapped up and her eyes squinted told me I fucked up. Yet again.

So before she could get a word in, I threw my head back, groaning so loud I’m sure they could hear from the living room, “What do you want me to do!?” I was glaring at her and she reciprocated the look, “I am not apologising for something I didn’t even say. I asked a simple question, which wasn’t meant to be offensive at all. I just noticed you looked different-”

She threw her hands up, “Great.”

My jaw clenched and I glared at her. I swear my face is gonna permanently stay this way if we keep talking about this. “Ariana you’re pissing me off.” I spoke hardly.

“Good, but that’s better than hurting your feelings,” she replied snappily.

I didn’t think about my actions as I took the few steps to get rid of the space between us. All I knew was that the more she spoke, the angrier I got and I needed her to shut up. It’s not that I don’t care for her feelings, but she’s making it seem as if I came out and told her she was fat when that wasn’t anywhere near my mind or what I thought of her.

I didn’t realize what I was doing until I did it, and even then I didn’t focus on it. My hand went at her throat, just below her chin and tilted her head back until she had no choice but to look at me.

Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me, “Chris-”

“Shut up,” I gritted, and she did, but her mouth was hanging open, “I’m saying this one last time,” I emphasized, “I did not call you fat,” I repeated slowly, “I asked you because you looked different I couldn’t figure out what it was and the last thing I want is your mother slitting my throat because I wouldn’t stop staring at you. Gaining weight and being fat are two separate things, Ariana, and you’re smart enough to know that. And it fucking pisses me off because what I think is that you’re fucking gorgeous and the last thing I’ll ever care about is how much weight you’re putting on because you look amazing with or without it. So stop being a fucking brat and help me make the fucking cookies.”

Tense. That’s all I was. The muscles in my shoulders and back were coiled and my biceps flexed repeatedly. It surprised me that I wasn’t hurting her, but I didn’t want to and that’s probably why.

I took deep shuddering breaths until I somewhat calmed down and it’s when I opened my eyes that I realized I’d closed them. And seeing her stare at me, starstruck, helped pulled me out of my angry fog.

My eyes moved down to my hand around her neck, the pad of my thumb pressed into her jaw and the tip of my fingers brushing just below her left ear. Before I could help it, my eyes dropped to her chest that was rising and falling steadily but heavy. My gaze moved slowly from that area, over my grip on her neck and stopped on her lips. All that work I’d put in to calming down went to waste because my blood started pumping in my ears, and I felt hot all of a sudden. My hand slowly slid to the back of her neck and I heard the sound of her breathing getting heavy.

Stop.

I did. When I was seconds away from kissing her, with my forehead pressed against hers and her nose nudging mine as she tilted her head up. Her hands were on my stomach, I know that because I felt her grip on my sweater — pulling me in.

She wanted this as much as I did.

My hand on her hip tightened and I pushed her back until she was pressed against the counter, my thumb just below her jaw and cupping the back of her neck as I leaned in. My arm slid around her waist and I pulled her to me, wanting her closer. I let out a slow breath at the feeling of her this close. It felt like heaven.

Our lips barely touched, but I stopped again. Prolonging the feeling of our breaths mingling and her hand gripping my bicep while the other clutched my shirt tightly.

She lets out a frustrated whimper, sliding her hand up my arm to my shoulder and back down, making it harder for me to let her go. But I did, groaning and stepping away. I got as far away from her as I could. Which meant I only stopped when my back hit the marble edge of the breakfast island. And I stared at her like I was seeing her for the first time, because it really felt like I was.

I can’t believe I just did that.

She was breathing as heavily as I was and we didn’t even kiss. My hand tightened on the edge of the counter as I watched her chest heave and then images of her moaning and writhing under me was vivid in my head. Too vivid.

So to stop myself from going back to her and finishing what I started, I left.