Between Here and Forever - Elizabeth Scott [54]
“Okay, I get that,” I say. “But you’re still acting like you’re a diseased yak or something and—”
“A yak?” he says, smiling.
“Yeah,” I say, grinning back. “And you’re not. I mean, who doesn’t have problems? So that’s why I find it hard to believe that you’re having to wander around girl-less.”
“Well, you’re here with me.”
“Like I count. You know what I mean.”
“Sure,” he says. “At the all-male schools my parents sent me to, there were girls everywhere. Hidden in the walls and stuff. Don’t know how I keep missing them. And how come you don’t count?”
“Because I don’t,” I tell him, my stomach fluttering because I think I could count with him, and I definitely know I want to. “You’re just being nice, and it’s sweet, but you don’t have to do it. I know you never would have noticed me if I hadn’t asked you about Tess.”
“Okay, you’re right, I never noticed you before you came in to talk to me,” he says, and my heart sinks. I didn’t want to be right, but I guess I am.
“I mean, Clement mentioned you, but I was too busy trying to get through each shift in the gift shop without counting all the magazines,” he continues. “That’s why I was giving away all that gum. To try and stop myself from counting. But then you came in, and you were so intense and—well, a little strange, but I liked that. And then I got to know you, and it’s been the best thing that’s happened to me here. Or ever, really.”
“A little strange?” I’m trying to sound like I’m calm, like I’m just having a simple, relaxing time hanging out with him but:
I never hang out with anyone except Claire.
Eli and I are sitting awfully close now.
Despite what Eli seems to think, I’m not immune to how he looks, and when you combine that with how nice he is, you get—
You get want. And right now, I want to push Eli down onto the sofa or, better yet, have him push me down onto the sofa.
“Abby,” he says, and no one, not even Jack, has ever said my name like that, like it’s beautiful, like it holds want. Like it is want. I can’t quite catch my breath, the kick-thud of my heart swooping down into my stomach, breathless anticipation because I know he is going to kiss me; I see the same shock I’m feeling all over his face, surprise at how strong feelings you’ve told yourself you don’t get to have can be.
He moves closer still, so close I have to close my eyes because I’m dizzy with the idea that there’s no space between where I end and he begins, and I feel it, the softest, gentlest brush of his mouth across mine, an almost kiss, a testing, and I curl myself toward him, wanting no space between us at all, anywhere, and—
And Clement says, “Eli, there you are! You never showed up at the hospital, so I got a ride home with Dr. Henry, who asked if we got that stupid ham he sent, as if that’s going to convince me to let him cut down the tree Harriet planted when we moved in because it’s ‘blocking his view.’ I ask you, who would even want twenty pounds of ham? And who thinks an enormous ham is the perfect gift for—oh, Abby! Hello!”
He steps over to the sofa, gently clapping me on the shoulder. “I was wondering where you were too since I didn’t see you come in to visit Tess. I don’t suppose you’d like a ham sandwich, would you? We have plenty of ham, don’t we, Eli?”
“Yeah,” Eli mumbles, and Clement says, “Let’s go into the kitchen, shall we?” and waits, smiling at me, as Eli stands up, hands shoved into his pockets, and follows him into the kitchen.
Clement knows what’s going on. Or what was almost going on. And the web I was caught up in, the web of being with Eli, of knowing he wanted to be with me—it’s been shredded.
Because who did I forget while I was thinking about nothing but myself and what I want?
Tess.
thirty-four
I want to sneak out, but I don’t want to be rude to Clement. And I don’t—I don’t want Eli to think I don’t want to be here. Because I do.
That’s the whole problem. I do want to be here. I want. And I’ve tried—I’ve tried so hard not to do that.
“I have to go,” I say, sticking my head into the