Not Today | ✔️

Chapter Nineteen.

"Like handprints in wet cement
She touched me, it's permanent..."

✧✧✧

Tristan's muscles were sparkling.

Evelyn's free period coincided with Tristan's P.E., which was being held outside because it was the one of last warm days in the forecast before the cold weather hit full force, and holy Major, she'd never been more grateful to a gym teacher, because Tristan didn't just have muscles, he had muscles.

And his hair, Lord save her, his hair was thick and dark and his curls were matted to his forehead from his sweat. She was so caught up in just staring that she didn't realize when he started speaking.

"Evelyn?" he asked, finally getting her attention. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see..." your muscles. "...if you wanted to walk to lunch together."

"I'm all sweaty," he said, panting slightly.

"That's not a problem," she said a little too quickly and his lips lifted in a crooked smile.

"I forgot," he said, his grin widening. "You have a thing for sparkly muscles."

"I do," she said. "Too bad you don't have any muscles."

"Sure, baby," he said as a joke, though she felt her stomach flutter slightly. At least, until he threw an arm around her shoulders, which she pushed off.

"Gross," she said, pulling a face.

"What?" he asked, pouting. "I thought you liked sparkly muscles."

"I like to admire them from afar," she clarified. "The same way I think sharks are cute, but I'm not gonna take a dip in the Atlantic Ocean and try to swim with them."

"You think sharks are cute?" he asked, pulling a face as they walked towards the cafeteria.

"Obviously," she said. "Especially the blue shark! They have these cute, like, googly eyes and look almost like a real-life cartoon."

Tristan raised an eyebrow at her. "Right. And cockroaches are just adorable."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "Make fun all you want, but you'll eat your words once you see a picture of a hammerhead pup."

"Pup?"

"That's what baby sharks are called, since sharks were originally referred to as sea dogs," she explained.

"You spend way too much time reading," he said and she elbowed him gently, causing him to laugh slightly, but as they reached the cafeteria, she gave him a small smile before walking away.

"Where are you going?" he asked, catching her wrist before she could slip away.

"To the library," she said. "That's where I always eat lunch."

"Not Today," he said with a grin as he used their words. "Come on. Eat lunch with me and my friends."

"That's okay, Tris," she said with a gentle smile. "You don't have to keep making gestures. I know you're sorry."

He frowned. "I'm not. I mean, I am sorry, but I'm not making a gesture. I want you to eat with us. With me."

Evelyn hesitated unsure, and he took at his cue to pull her along, continuing to pull her along until they got their food and he patted the seat beside him on the bench of his lunch table. She sat down slowly and would be lying if she said she didn't feel the wings of anxiety fluttering in her stomach, floating towards her chest and up to her mind, until she couldn't focus on much more. At least, until a voice broke through.

"Evelyn!" Jerome shouted, smushing Evelyn closer to Tristan as he took the seat beside her.

"Jerome," she acknowledged with a smile.

"Juice?" he asked, offering her a juice box, which made her breath out a laugh before she accepted. Who was she to reject her childhood?

"You never offer me juice," Spencer said with a sour look.

"That's because I actually like Evelyn," Jerome said, throwing an arm around her shoulders as she minded her business, sipping her juice.

She hesitated, looking at her juice like it was the last on earth before she held it out to Spencer. "You can have the rest of mine."

His eyes lit up as he took it from her, before he winked. "Thanks, sparkly girl."

"Anytime, juice box," she said casually, causing Jerome and Spencer to laugh, before he moved seats so he was right across from her.

"How are your gym visits going?" he joked.

"Very well, thank you," she said with a smile. "I like to listen to stripper music while watching boxing, so I can imagine I'm in Magic Mike."

Jerome sputtered out a laugh, juice spilling from his mouth as he continued laughing. "Stripper music?"

"I have a playlist," Evelyn said simply, despite the fact that she'd never been to a gym in the entirety of her life. At least, not one that wasn't the school gymnasium.

"A stripper playlist?" Spencer asked. "I'd love to hear it sometime."

"Just listen to yours."

"I don't have one."

"What?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. "I thought everyone had a stripper playlist."

Spencer laughed. "Where did you find this one, Tristan?"

"I didn't find her," he said, his tone annoyed. "She's a person, not a stray cat."

Evelyn frowned, turning her attention to Tristan, who wasn't eating or talking, just staring at his tray the way he used to stare at her, like he wished lasers would shoot from his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, so only he could hear.

"What?" he said, distracted, before furrowing his eyebrows. "Yeah."

"We both know that's a lie," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Is Spencer the one you have a crush on?"

His jaw was tense as his eyes shifted to her own, which were wide with shock at the question, wondering where it came from.

"What? I don't even know him," she said.

"It's easier than you might think to start feeling more than friendship towards someone," he said with an intense look in his dark brown eyes. She couldn't maintain eye contact, so she dropped her attention to the dusting of freckles just under his eyes.

"I don't like Spencer, Tris," she said quietly, looking back up as he blew out a breath.

"I... I'm sorry," he said with a frown. "That was out of line. I just felt like..."

"Like what?"

"Nothing, it's dumb."

"Tris."

"I don't know, okay?" he said, sounding frustrated. "I guess I felt ignored."

Evelyn's heart softened at the quiet, insecure admission, before she took his hand, which was curled in a fist over his thigh and loosened his grip, tracing the veins on his hand. Damn, football players must've had good circulatory systems, too.

His demeanor softened and he started twisting his fingers with hers, until he locked them together under the table, rubbing circles along the soft skin of the back of her hand, but the soft look dissipated from his eyes as a humorous glint lit them up and she almost rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was about to...

"So a stripper playlist, huh?"

...say.