Never Summer Again

Chapter Fourteen - The Best Man

Score: Bad Habits - Ed Sheeran

Lydia

He is looking at me with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. I am still on my butt on the floor, unable to move under his gaze. We stay like this for a heartbeat, staring awkwardly into each others' eyes, and then he bends down, offering me his hand. I take it and his lips curl into an amused smile as I get up to my feet.

"Never, in a million years, have I thought I'd be ambushed by Lydia Young, but, here we are." He says in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Well, I caught you, and now you are my prisoner of war." I join him in his effort, waving the card with his name in front of his face.

He smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes this time. He turns his back to me so that he is facing the windows at the back of the greenhouse. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his black jeans and I feel cold claws clench my heart at the coolness, radiating from him. It's obvious that something is bothering him.

I know I shouldn't pry, and I have made a promise to myself that I am determined to keep and stay away from him, but the words leave my mouth before I can stop them:

"Hey, were you hiding in here, or something?" I ask.

It makes sense. He's alone in here, and if I hadn't passed by the greenhouse on my way to the house, I could have missed it completely. No one's to be seen nearby. Everyone's either still playing, or watching the match on the telly.

"I just wanted to be alone," he says, not turning to face me.

"Well, if you wanted to be alone, you shouldn't have come to Gloria's birthday party." I laugh. It's true, literally everyone we know is here tonight.

"Sometimes, it is easiest to be alone in a crowd, Lyds." He says, finally turning to face me. "And I wasn't coming to the party until a couple of hours ago."

I can see the hurt in his eyes and I feel the urge to rush to him and hug him, wrap my arms around him, and make whatever is bothering him go away. Instead, I just look down at my feet and twirl the string of one of the cards in my hands. I suddenly feel awkward.

Why is he making me feel awkward? I have never felt awkward around Mark before, and we have known each other literally all our lives.

Sadly, I know the answer to that, and I know that it is my fault that we are in this weird place now. Or, at least I am one-half to blame.

Damn, I shouldn't have let what happened in his car happen. I wonder if we'll ever go back to being friends now. Although, after the speech he gave me on the morning after our make-out session, it seems there's more to it on his end.

I take a deep breath and decide to be the more mature party in the situation and offer him a friendly shoulder to cry on if he wants to. I'd like for him to know that I am still here for him if he needs me.

After all, that's what friends are for, right?

"Do you... you know... want to talk about it? About what's bothering you?"

He lets out a laugh that doesn't have the slightest note of amusement to it.

"Oh, Lydia, Lydia..." He shakes his head and a curl of his hair falls over his forehead. The iciness of his tone makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. My mouth goes dry and I instinctively take a step back. I've never seen him like this. Bitter. Cold. Hurt?

By what? By whom?

"When will you learn, Lydia," he continues, but I don't want to listen to him anymore.
I want to run away, but my feet won't obey me. "When will you learn that you can't fix everybody." He takes a step closer and my feet take another step back on their own.