On the Edge of Love (CarlxAlan)

Chapter 15: Alan

The first time Carl called it a date, I laughed.

The second time, I didn't.

Because by then, I realized we weren't really joking anymore.

It started with a text on Friday night.

Carl: You doing anything tomorrow?

Me: No, why?

Carl: Wanna go on a totally not suspicious, completely casual, normal best friend hangout?

Me: Sounds fake.

Carl: Yeah, it's actually a date.

I stared at my phone for a long time after that.

Not because I was panicking—okay, maybe a little because I was panicking—but mostly because I didn't know what to say.

Carl and I had been figuring this whole thing out for a couple of weeks now, and we had pretty much gotten into a rhythm. At school, nothing had changed. At home, things had changed, but we were careful. Careful about how long we looked at each other, careful about how close we sat, careful about all the things we wanted to do but weren't ready for.

But this? This was different.

A date.

Carl was giving it a name.

And the thing was... I wanted to say yes.

So I did.

Me: Cool. I'll pick you up at 11.

Carl: Oh. So now you're driving me around?

Me: You literally don't have a car.

Carl: Sounds like you're taking me on a date.

Me: ...Shut up.

The next morning, I picked Carl up like I said I would. He slid into the passenger seat with a grin like he already knew I was nervous.

"I can't believe you agreed to this," he said, buckling his seatbelt.

I kept my eyes on the road. "I can't believe you asked me."

Carl laughed. "Guess we're both full of surprises."

I didn't respond, mostly because I was too busy focusing on the fact that he looked really good today. He always looked good, obviously—I wasn't blind—but he was wearing a hoodie that was a little too big, and his hair was messy in a way that made me think he spent way too long making it look effortless.

And I wasn't supposed to notice things like that.

Except now, I could.

I could notice, and I could like it, and I didn't have to feel bad about it.

That realization made me feel weirdly good.

Carl raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you staring?"

I looked away so fast my neck almost cracked. "No."

"Uh-huh." He smirked. "So where are we going, date planner?"

I groaned. "You're never gonna stop calling it that, are you?"

"Not a chance."

We ended up going to the mall, mostly because it was too cold to do anything outside, and I wasn't mentally prepared for the whole restaurant situation.

The mall was safe.

Casual.

Easy.

Carl walked too close to me the whole time, bumping into me on purpose, nudging my arm, grinning when I shoved him away.

"Dude, walk normally," I said as we passed a group of middle schoolers staring at sneakers in the window of Foot Locker.

Carl just grinned. "This is normal."

"No, normal would be you not acting like an annoying little—"

Before I could finish, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward a store.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, stopping in front of a window display. "Look at this."

It was a hoodie. A ridiculously ugly hoodie. Bright yellow with a weird, off-center cartoon cat printed on the front.

I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Carl turned to me, completely serious. "You should buy it."

I snorted. "Not a chance."

"But it'd bring out your eyes."

I scoffed. "What, in a blindingly awful way?"

Carl laughed, and something in my chest jumped at the sound. "Okay, okay, what about this one?"

He pointed at another hoodie—this one a deep green, oversized, and actually pretty cool-looking.

I considered it. "Maybe."

Carl grinned. "If you buy it, I'll buy the cat one."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

I stared at him, trying to tell if he was lying. He just stared right back, eyes wide, completely unreadable.

Then, after a long moment, I sighed. "Fine."

Carl fist-pumped. "Yes!"

And just like that, we were buying matching hoodies.

I should've been embarrassed, but honestly?

It felt kind of great.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around, playing stupid games like "spot the worst-dressed person in the food court" and "count how many people look like they've given up on life."

At one point, Carl pulled me into a bookstore and made me help him find the worst book title in the store.

"I think we have a winner," I said, holding up Cowboys & Aliens: The Novelization.

Carl stared at it. "Holy crap."

"I know."

"This is art."

We laughed so hard the cashier gave us a look.

And for the first time in a while, I didn't feel like I was keeping a secret.

I didn't feel like I had to think about every move I made, every look I gave Carl.

I could just be.

With him.

It wasn't until we got back in the car that things got weird again.

Carl clicked his seatbelt into place and looked over at me. "Hey."

I glanced at him. "Yeah?"

He hesitated, like he was trying to find the right words. Then he smirked, soft and teasing. "So, was this a date or...?"

I swallowed.

I could've laughed it off. I could've shrugged, played it cool, acted like it was nothing.

But I didn't want to.

Not this time.

I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "I mean... I guess?"

Carl raised an eyebrow. "Wow. So romantic."

I exhaled a small laugh, shaking my head. "Okay, fine. It was a date."

Carl's smirk widened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He sat back in his seat, looking pleased.

I stared at the road ahead, feeling something warm settle in my chest.