It was lunchtime, and I was heading toward the library with my book in hand. Milton had texted earlier to say he was sick, which meant I could finally get some quiet reading done. I relished the thought of the peace and quiet.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I jumped, clutching my chest as I spun around. Emmett steadied me with a hand on my shoulder while Kyle stood in front of me, laughing.
"I'm sorry," Kyle said between chuckles.
"I told you not to do that," Emmett scolded him, his tone flat. "Asshole at its finest."
I glanced up at Emmett and immediately felt the heat rise to my face. His bare, toned arm rested casually over my shoulder, and I couldn't stop myself from noticing how solid he felt. Was it weird to think about? Probably. I stepped out of his hold, my book clutched tightly to my chest.
"Where's your little buddy?" Kyle asked, craning his neck as if Milton might pop out from behind me.
"He's sick," I said, my voice soft.
"Oh." Kyle's tone shifted, and he quickly began typing something on his phone.
I turned back to Emmett, hoping to avoid any further awkwardness.
"Library again for lunch?" he asked, his tone light, though his gaze held a hint of curiosity.
"Yes," I replied, narrowing my eyes slightly. "Why?"
"Nope, not today." He took my hand in his, his grip firm but warm.
"Wait—where are we going?" I stammered.
"To our table," he said with a grin, pulling me along.
"What?" I blurted, trying to keep up. "No, really, I'm fine. I'd rather be alone."
He stopped and turned to face me, his expression softening. "You don't have to sit by yourself, Pinky."
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the book in my hand. "But I don't know anyone... except for you," I mumbled.
Kyle stepped in, tapping his chest with a smirk. "You know me too. That makes two people. Come on."
Before I could protest, Emmett grabbed my hand again and dragged me into the cafeteria. I hadn't been in here in ages—not since that one time I found a long strand of hair in my spaghetti.
We went through the lunch line, Emmett grabbing a tray while still holding onto my hand. I could feel the weight of countless eyes on me, and my stomach churned. Once we made it outside to an empty table, I let out a breath of relief. Emmett sat beside me while Kyle took the spot across from us.
I unpacked my salad and fruit, glancing nervously at the two boys. Kyle was scarfing down his food like it was his last meal.
"Man, you eat like a pig," Emmett said, shaking his head in mock disgust.
"Don't judge me," Kyle shot back, his mouth half-full. "It's spaghetti day. I've been waiting for this all week. The lunch ladies put their whole soul into this."
"That's true," Emmett admitted with a chuckle. He turned to me. "Why don't you eat school lunch?"
I shook my head, smiling faintly. "The last time I did, there was a hair in my spaghetti."
Kyle froze mid-bite and spat his food back onto his tray. Emmett burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join in, shaking my head at the scene.
"I might start bringing my own lunch," Kyle muttered, wiping his mouth.
"You're not gonna do that," Emmett said, taking a bite of his sandwich.
I nibbled on my fruit, feeling oddly relaxed. This wasn't so bad. What was I so afraid of?
Then, a tray slammed onto the table beside me, and I jumped. A group of kids sat down, but my attention zeroed in on one girl—Giana. The same girl who had called me a bitch not too long ago.
"Emmett," she purred, her eyes narrowing slightly as they flicked between us.
"Giana," he replied flatly, barely glancing her way.
She didn't take the hint, leaning forward with a sultry smile. "I changed my mind. I think our prom colors should be blue," she said, her gaze briefly landing on me.
"Fine," he said dismissively, turning his attention back to another guy at the table.
I felt my stomach knot. Did she know blue was his favorite color? He'd told me it was a secret. Maybe they were closer than I realized—more than just friends. My chest tightened, and I suddenly wanted to disappear.
"So, who are you?" a deep voice asked from beside me.
I turned to see a guy with a chiseled jawline, chestnut-colored hair, and piercing ocean-blue eyes. He was undeniably stunning, though not as handsome as Emmett, I couldn't help but note.
"I'm Tasha," I said, my voice small as I met his gaze.
"I'm Damien," he introduced himself with a charming smile.
I glanced at Emmett, who was still engrossed in conversation with another guy, before returning my attention to Damien.
"Nice lunch," he commented, nodding at my food.
"Thanks," I replied, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm trying to eat healthier."
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What do you eat when you're not being healthy?"
"Everything," I admitted with a nervous laugh. "There's this place called Crazy Joe's—"
"No way," he interrupted, his face lighting up. "You mean the best burger joint ever?"
"You know it?" I gasped.
"Of course! If you like Crazy Joe's, you should check out Mariena's," he said.
"I've never heard of it, but it sounds amazing," I said with a smile.
Damien scratched the back of his neck, looking a little shy. "Maybe we should—"
A nudge on my shoulder cut him off. I turned to see Emmett, his brow raised and his expression unreadable as he glanced at Damien.
"So, T," Emmett said, his voice casual but firm, "I was thinking we could meet tomorrow to finish up the project."
"I actually have an all-day event tomorrow, but Sunday should work," I replied.
"Cool," he murmured, leaning in close. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, "Let me know what time."
A shiver ran down my spine, and my eyes went wide.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, hoping no one heard.