Maybe

Chapter 19 Red Shoes

_Nina_

Janice, Jake invited "us" to hang out with them, as we often do. Naturally, "us" means Ethan and me. I felt embarrassed to face Ethan after the kiss, but when we met, he acted as if nothing had happened. His indifference irritated me at first, but I eventually realized it was probably for the best.

Janice and Jake walked ahead of us, leaving Ethan and me trailing behind. We must have looked like a couple or something. I had put on my new red shoes, hoping to show them off, but I hadn't anticipated how awkward I'd feel in them. The new shoes ended up being more of an embarrassment than a statement.

"Look, my lady, we do make a great pair, don't we?" Ethan remarked as we strolled along.

"Great pair, my ass," I shot back, rolling my eyes.

"Come on, don't be shy. It's just you and me, me and you," he continued, undeterred.

"Somehow, your cringy words stink. Mind keeping your mouth shut?" I retorted, trying to hide my annoyance.

"You don't have to feel it's cringy, because it's not," he insisted, flashing a confident smile.

"It is, god damn it!" I exclaimed, my patience wearing thin.

"Damn, you look so sexy when you're angry," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Ugh, I'm walking away from you," I declared, turning on my heel and storming off, hoping he'd finally get the hint.

As I was about to pick up my pace, my shoe collided with a stone, and I took a tumble. It was, without a doubt, one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. If anyone ever asked, this would be it. A lady passing by noticed my fall and rushed over, concern etched on her face. "Oh my God, girl, are you okay?" she asked. In that moment, I wished the ground would swallow me whole, but I had no choice but to smile weakly and reply, "Oh, I'm fine."

Then, Ethan appeared in front of me, dropping to one knee with a smirk on his face.

That devil, honestly.

I refused to meet his eyes and looked away, hoping he'd just go away. But then I felt his hand on my ankle, and I jumped, startled. When I glanced at him, I saw him fixated on my bright red shoe. I cringed inwardly, not wanting him to see my brand-new shoe in such an undignified state. Ugh.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, gently touching my ankle, his voice filled with concern. Although it didn't really hurt, I reassured him, "No, it doesn't."

He tried to mask his worry as he looked at me and said, "That's what happens if you try to fight me." I rolled my eyes at him, playfully pushing him away. When I attempted to stand up, my ankle gave out, causing me to stumble and fall into his arms. Luckily, I didn't land on his chest, which would have been incredibly embarrassing. He smirked, trying to hide his worry behind a facade of nonchalance.

"Hold my hand," he said. I rolled my eyes yet again, but I had no choice; I didn't want to make the situation more complicated than it already was. He helped me up and guided me to a nearby bench to sit down. As for Jake and Janice, those two lovebirds were nowhere to be seen. Despite my protests, Ethan went off to get some ice.

Suddenly, I noticed Janice running away by herself, which seemed odd. I wanted to go after her and ask what was wrong, but before I could move, Ethan returned with the ice. Gently, he removed my shoe and started applying the ice to my injury.

"Absolutely not, Ethan!" My voice tinged with frustration and concern.

"You really have to, or you'll end up not being able to walk," Ethan insisted, trying to reason with me gently.

I grimaced in pain as I struggled with my shoe. "It'll be fine, damn it! Just give me back my shoe and stop bothering me."

Ethan sighed, exasperated. "Who else is going to take you home with that injured ankle?" He looked at me with genuine worry etched on his face, hoping I would relent for my own sake.

"Why do you care?" I blurted out, the words dripping with unacknowledged anger and disappointment. His expression shifted, clearly taken aback by the sudden change in my voice.

"Why shouldn't I?" he replied calmly, looking at me with a mix of concern and care that caught me off guard. His unexpected response moved me.

After applying ice for a while, the pain began to subside—it was just a fracture. He gently helped me put my shoe back on.

"You're always so clumsy, needing someone to take care of you," he remarked casually as he tied my shoe. It sounded like he'd known me for a while, which, of course, he had. I managed a slight smile, but quickly masked it with a poker face once more.

As I walked home with him, I couldn't help but think, "Don't fall into his trap, ugh, stupid girl," silently scolding myself.

He accompanied me to my doorstep, exchanging a casual farewell. It was always like this with us—sometimes we clicked like best friends, other times our interactions felt like we were back in high school, bickering like bullies. Despite my frustration, conflicting emotions stirred within me—I loathed him yet craved his presence, I despised him yet found myself caring for him, and amidst it all, I found comfort and joy in his company. Perhaps 'hate' was just a shallow word to describe our complicated relationship.

Later, I received a text from Janice that read:

Janice: I'm such a foolish.

Me: What happened? Are you okay?

Janice: I was just blind. Erica was right.

Me: Now, who the heck is Erica?

Janice: My childhood friend.

Me: You're still in touch with your childhood friends? Wow. What did she say?

Janice: She said that we're not good enough. He likes someone else or he's just a fuckboy like Ethan.

Me: She did?

Janice: Yeah! And guess what, whatever she said is starting to seem true. She said there's something fishy about Jake.

Me: And you believed her?

Janice: Not until...

Me: Until what?

Janice: I...

Me: First of all, Ethan is not a fuckboy. It's not like I like him or anything, but I've seen him around. I sort of know him.

Janice: Since when?

Me: What?

Janice: You started taking his side?

Me: That's not the point. Tell me what happened, I'm dying here.

Janice: I just can't text. Wanna call?

Me: I think it would be better if we meet.

Janice: Okay. If you want, I can sleep over.

Me: Of course! I'm free, my whole place is empty.

Janice: Okay, see you in a bit.

As I texted her, I realized she wasn't in as good a state as I had assumed. Sensing something troubling her, I wished she would open up about her emotions tonight, knowing something unfortunate had likely occurred. After a while, I heard the doorbell ring, interrupting my thoughts.