Chapter 16: You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 16

I wait for Daisy to leave the damn classroom, wondering what’s taking her so long. She’s always the first person to shoot out of her desk, running off at high speed so she won’t be late.

Me? I take my time and am late for pretty much every class. Teachers don’t even mark me tardy because what’s the point? I won’t really get in trouble.

For the most part.

This afternoon though, I’m eager to get into statistics class. I want to see if Daisy responded to my note. What did she think of my scene choice? I thought it was pretty tame, but there was something undeniably hot about the way the author described the kiss. Slow and searching and shit.

Wouldn’t mind kissing Daisy like that. Still worried she might slap me if I try though.

Did she notice what I did in the office? I tried my best to recreate that scene from the book where the couple touched pinkies. I mean, that’s not even close to sexual, but it’s a tension thing so I see the appeal.

That’s why I shifted close to her while she remained on the phone for so long. Pressing myself against her. Absorbing her. Did she realize it? She seemed extra focused on those phone calls so maybe not. She’s not sexually experienced at all and I’m assuming she doesn’t think I like her because of that.

I shouldn’t like her like that.

She’s all I can think about.

Finally, she exits the classroom, turning her head left, then right, causing me to duck, tucking myself on the other side of the line of lockers I’m standing by so she doesn’t see me. I wait a few seconds, my heart pounding before I finally peer around the lockers once more.

The coast is clear.

I sneak into the classroom just as the bell rings, settling into my desk. Mrs. Nelson watches me, her lips curved when our gazes meet.

“Look at you showing up on time. I’m impressed.”

I flash her a smile. I’ve always liked Nelson. She doesn’t give me too much shit. “I aim to please.”

“You’re also a flirt.” She grabs an eraser and taps it loudly against the white board. “Okay, class! Time to get your homework assignments out and pass them to the front.”

I’ve already got my assignment out, and since I’m sitting in the first seat of the row—channeling my inner Daisy Albright before I even realized it, go figure—I wait to collect everyone else’s, ignoring the way the girl who sits behind me smiles. Like she’s interested.

No thanks.

Once Nelson has started her lecture, I reach for Daisy’s book, curious to see what she said. What she wrote. The book is still there and I take that as a good sign. Slowly, I pull it out, resting it in my lap and flipping it open to the place I notated.

I smile when I see she drew little pink hearts all around my favorite part of the section I highlighted.

Slow. Searching. Tasting. Learning.

Glancing up, I make sure no one is paying attention to me before I read what she wrote on the Post-it.

I like that part too. It made me shiver.

There are lots of ways I could make this girl shiver.

I left you a pen so you can highlight whatever you want. A favorite line. A meaningful one. I highlighted what I liked in chapter fifteen in pink.

Without hesitation, I flip to chapter fifteen in search of what she liked, finding it quickly.

With sweaty palms I exit the dressing room, clad in the red dress he chose for me. He stands the moment he sees me, his eyes darkening I can tell.

He likes the dress.

He likes it on me.

“Get it,” he says.

“But—”

“Get it,” he repeats.

I smile and he smiles in return. He wants me.

I want him too.

So much.

Ignoring the book, I lift my head and stare off into space, thinking. Daisy opened up to me earlier, in the office. Explaining why she’s so closed off. Why she wants to protect her heart. My mommy issues comment was right on the mark, but that doesn’t make it okay that I said it.

I should’ve never said those words to her but I’m a heartless dick who speaks before he thinks, like I can’t help myself.

Most of the time, I can’t. My impulse control is nonexistent, according to my parents.

This passage I just read tells me she wants to be beautiful for someone else. She wants to be noticed. The earlier passage tells me she wants to be kissed.

I’m willing to do both for her—tell her she’s beautiful and kiss her. But she acts so damn scared most of the time, I’m worried she’ll bail the moment I try.

Nelson calls my name and I slide my attention to her, my brows up in question.

“Do you understand this segment?”

Nodding, I say, “Absolutely.”

Her smile is pleased and she doesn’t challenge me further. “Good. Let’s continue.”

I thumb through the book when I can, trying not to look suspicious, and I finally find a scene I like. I grab the pen Daisy left me and uncap it, then carefully underline the sentences I like the best.

I am no artist so I don’t bother drawing anything on the page. She’s lucky she’s getting the highlighter. That’s about as far as I’ll take it.

And I can’t believe I’m taking it this far. I would never do this kind of sappy shit for a girl. Not a single one of them means anything to me enough to want to do this. I’m putting in a lot of effort when in the past, I’ve put in zero.

They all just come running. Surrounding me. Clamoring for me. Wanting me.

Look at Cadence. I could go to her right now and tell her to spread her legs and she would. She’s that into me. That eager to please me.

But it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel right. Cadence and the rest of them don’t give a shit about me. Not really. They care about what I can do for them, being seen with me. My last name and the money and prestige that comes with it. To spend time with a Lancaster makes people feel special and I guess I get it.

I think about Daisy, and how she doesn’t act that way around me at all. My name definitely doesn’t impress her, and I’m pretty sure she hated me on sight. And while I sound like a complete douche even in my own head, I can’t help but find that refreshing.

It’s not that she’s one of those “not like other girls” girls either. It’s just that she has zero tolerance for me. She’s not interested. I’m not even on her radar.

She was aware of me, of course, because of our academic situation. And while I’ve noticed her and always thought she was moderately pretty—fine, she’s beautiful—I didn’t think of her like that. She’s a good girl.

And I’ve never bothered with good girls before.

The more I think about her, the more I want to get to know her. I want to find out what she likes, what she doesn’t like. Her favorite food. Her favorite color. What does she want to do once high school is over. She’s a total overachiever so I’d guess college is on the agenda.

Would she think less of me if I told her that doesn’t interest me? Would I sound like a spoiled rich prick if I admitted I just want to travel around for the next few years and see the world?

I sound like a rich prick in my own head so I’m sure the answer is yes to that last question.

I grab a fresh Post-it and slap it on the page I just highlighted, then grab my pencil and write a little note for Daisy. Wondering if she’s figured out who she’s communicating with yet.

Probably not. Will she be pissed when she finds out it’s me?

Probably.

I’m willing to take the risk.

Once school is over and I’m exiting the building, I spot my sister walking just ahead of me. I call her name and she glances over her shoulder, stopping to wait for me as I approach.

“Lowering your standards to be seen with me, hmm?” Edie tilts her head, her assessing gaze landing on my face.

I scowl. “Come on, Edie. Lowering my standards? Give me a break. You’re the one who’s never around.”

“I’m hanging out with my friends and you’re hanging out with yours. Though I’ve noticed you’ve been ignoring them more and more lately.”

She’s right.

“Cadence texted me last night,” Edie adds.

Damn, why can’t she leave this—me—alone? “What the hell did she want?”

“Tips on how to get back into your bed.” Edie laughs when I sputter. “She didn’t say those exact words, but she implied it. She’s so sad, Arch.”

“She can remain sad. I’m not interested in her.” If Edie really fell for Cadence’s lies, then she’s more gullible than I thought she was.

“Who are you interested in?”

“No one,” I lie. “What about you?”

“Not a single student on this campus could interest me,” Edie says, her voice downright smug. “They’re all so immature. Even guys in your class. Especially guys in your class.”

“Right and all of those assholes in your class are far superior,” I say sarcastically.

“I never said that. They definitely aren’t.”

We give each other shit the entire walk back to the building where our rooms are. She’s right down the hall from me and it’s kind of nice, knowing she’s there with me. I can’t imagine being on this campus alone, the only Lancaster in this old, creepy building. Once I graduate, Edie will be the only Lancaster left standing on campus.

Wait. Our little brothers will be freshmen next year so she won’t be a complete loner. I’ll be the one who’s out and the rest of my siblings will be here.

My steps slow when we pass by the Albright’s garden. Row after row of vegetables, mostly tomatoes. And the rose bushes. Funny how they don’t grow daisies.

I take it all in, wishing she was there so I could go to her and talk to her, just so I could hear her voice, but there’s no one out there.

Just that damn cat I scared off last night. Sniffing around the vegetables right before it sinks its teeth into a fat tomato, makes a hissing noise and then runs off.

“You know back in the day the Italians wouldn’t eat tomatoes because they tasted too acidic. They thought they were poisonous,” Edie says, dropping a little factoid like she often does.

“No shit?”

“Yeah. I don’t think that cat liked the taste.”

“That cat is kind of a dumbass.”

“You know this cat?” Edie sounds amused.

“We’ve had run-ins before, yeah.”

“Oh really?”

I change the subject, not about to mention who else I ran into.

There’s something about Daisy that I want to keep all to myself. Not that I’m ashamed of her or anything. More like I want to protect her. No one else needs to know about us. Our interactions. Nothing can come of this. It’s more than likely that nothing at all will come of it and that’ll be that.

But right now, while I can cling to these moments with her, I’m going to. I sound like a sappy asshole even in my own head, but I can’t help it. This girl…

Feels special.

I don’t want to fuck it up.