Side Note: I Think I Love You

Chapter 20 - Ian

It's nights like these that make life worth living.

Specifically, nights spent by a bonfire roasting s'mores, and chatting with the rest of my teammates about the game that we demolished only two hours ago (though everyone will still be celebrating come tomorrow).

Attie and Spohie are sitting right next to me, chatting their ears off about Taylor Swift and I'm holding a marshmallow over the firepit, watching it slowly burn as I try to listen in on the conversation.

"Ian," Sophie says. "That thing is gonna burn."

I shake my head. "I like them burnt." A bit of a lie. I don't really like them completely burnt.

Just then, I move the mini pitchfork away from the fire and the marshmallow is now a little ball of fire hanging onto the stick. Attie quickly holds out her paper plate and, as if planned, the marshmallow falls onto it. "You look a little tired, Ian."

"Of course he is," Sophia chuckles. "The team just kicked Barin High's ass. Granted Barin sucked..."

"Well at least they tried." BJ interrupts as he hugs Sophia from behind. "How many s'mores has Ian burned so far?"

"Hey," I complain.

"My money's on twelve." He pats me on the back. "You are literally the only person who likes completely burnt marshmallows. That should be illegal."

"They're not completely burnt," I try to argue while reaching into the bag of marshmallows for the third time. The first one fell into the fire and the second on Attie's plate. Third time's the charm.

Attie takes the stick and stabs the marshmallow. "I'll roast this one. Braiden's right—that seems wrong."

"I like her," BJ tells me. "She has common sense."

"And I don't?"

He shakes his head and Sophia bursts out laughing at the shocked expression on my face. "No, yeah. There's a blurred line."

Attie, who sits in between me and Sophia, is covering her mouth with her free hand. The hand that is swallowed up by the sleeve of her hoodie. My hoodie. It's doing something to my brain and I can't figure out what.

But I like it. Maybe a little too much.

"WOOOOO!" An unfamiliar guy around my age, maybe older, stumbles around with a bottle of whiskey towards the firepit and proceeds to dump the whole thing into the fire. Attie pulls the marshmallow away from the fire before it can get splashed.

"Where did we even get whiskey?" BJ wonders, turning to me.

"I didn't see any in the shopping cart," I tell him, just as confused. We had to stop at a gas station on our way to the bonfire and since I'm currently the only one on the team with a fake ID, I had no choice but to accompany them. I don't even drink, for God's sake! And BJ has a fake too, but he lost it a couple months ago.

"Don't worry," the drunk guy slurs. "I accompanied it. Can't have a party without good liquor." His eyes meet Attie before letting out a low whistle. "And good women too. Hey, beautiful." He moves over and scooches between Sophia and Attie, his eyes staying on Attie's the whole time. More specifically, her body.

Oh.

Hell.

No.

"The bed of my truck is empty," he shouts. I think he's trying to whisper, based on how close he is to Attie's face but utterly failing to do so. "Enough room for the two of us." He traces one finger along Attie's arm and up to her neck. She turns away and I can see visible discomfort in her eyes.