Melted

Chapter 12

"No," I whispered, so I wouldn't embarrass Peter in front of the forming crowd. He smiled, but I could see the pain in his eyes. He stood up and kissed me while the crowd clapped. I understood. I cared about Peter enough to not publicly humiliate him.

"Why not?" Peter asked once the crowd had cleared. All they wanted was something to put on YouTube.

"Because we're friends. That's what we've been since the start. I've never had any other intentions. I can't go out with you, okay? I don't think I can go out with anyone. I'm just not that kind of person," I explained. It was the worst excuse ever. We're just friends? I'm not that kind of person? He wouldn't believe any of it.

"Okay. Friends it is then. I'm sorry I thought we could be something more. That was embarrassing. For both of us," Peter apologized. Wait, both of us? Wasn't I the one that just rejected him? The way he looked at me made me feel like it was the other way around. I turned and headed home. Fine. We were just friends. That was good. No more stomach flipping or intestine twisting or heart pounding or brain melting. I did the right thing.

My brain was restless on the lonely walk back home. I half expected Peter to run up beside me or grab me from behind. Did I end our friendship? That's not what I meant to do. I just couldn't date Peter. There was something that told me it wasn't right. Maybe I just wasn't ready. Especially with someone I was so close. What would happen if we broke up? We would break up. It's not like we were getting married (although getting down on one knee would suggest otherwise).

At least I could go home to my family. My brother would probably be playing video games, but when he stopped to eat, he'd talk with me. Mom would be watching some soap opera or cheesy reality show. But I'd never talk with her. Dad would be working in his office, and he'd be the last person I'd talk to. But at the end of the day, we'd be eating bowls of spaghetti at the table with a board game that Dad's cheating at, and Richie doesn't want to play.

"How was your non-date?" Richie shouted from the couch as I stepped inside. I swear there was a butt print from him.

"Great," I responded, before surveying the room. Mom was intently focused on the Real Housewives of New Jersey. "We'll talk later." Richie nodded and quickly returned to his game. I just wanted to ignore everything. I plugged my headphones in and turned up my music before flopping into the floor. No one asked questions, and that was an amazing thing about my family.

We had chicken fingers for dinner, unlike spaghetti as I had expected. We didn't play a board game because Dad had to go back to work and Richie felt tired. Mom was fine since she wanted to catch up on the last few episodes since she had to work late and missed them. I, on the other hand, was actually looking forward to family time. That was something I thought I'd never want.

When Mom finally left to watch her stupid show in the den, I took out my earbuds. Richie wasn't playing a video game, which surprised me. He was just sitting on the couch, breathing heavily. He stared off into space. Woah, did Richie actually have thoughts that he was thinking about? He was definitely thinking about a girl. You could tell by the way his pupils were dilated.

"Richard, you there? Can we talk?" I asked, snapping him out of his day dream. He looked down at me.

"Yeah, sure," Richard heaved with nod. Whoever the girl was, thinking about her almost seemed to make him sick.

I explained everything. The walk, Peter spilling the truth, and then the random almost proposal or whatever it was. He hardly paid attention. It was no use. Something else was on his mind. Why did I think my brother would want to hear about my problems? I shook my head and sighed. It was no use.

"I'm sorry, my head just really hurts," Richie groaned, grabbing his head. Maybe he was actually sick. His face was pale, and he looked nauseous. I reached up and placed my hand on his forehead. He was burning up.