My Monster

Chapter Twelve: I Hate To Be The Center

Chapter 12: I Hate To Be The Center

I trudge down the other street, my thoughts reeling. If I didn't know any better, it seemed like Shawn confessed to having feelings for me.

The thought of anyone in love with me gives me the creeps. I need to set him off this path and fast. I just don't think I can remember to care enough about this to be invested in it to the extent of orchestrating a real plan.

"Morning, Sophie," says a voice behind me.

His voice, it's him. My heart gives a jolt in my chest. I turn slowly, momentarily dazzled by the play of the sun on his golden hair.

Landon.

The idea strikes me like a bolt to the heart. I don't have to orchestrate a whole plan. Winning against Shawn is as simple as sleeping with someone else.

"Do you live nearby?" he asks.

I shake my head and begin walking toward the school. I set the pace on slow. "Had to leave my ride."

Landon imitates me by pushing his hands into his pockets. He falls into step beside me. "Same."

"So, what's the deal with that car?"

I look at him as I ask my question. It's hard to believe someone actually has such a beautiful face. I got used to the idea that this amount of beauty on one person could only be photoshopped.

He shrugs broad shoulders that put Greek gods to shame. "My uncle is weird about these things."

"Is he, like, a crime lord?"

Landon peeks at me from the corner of his eye. I'm still watching him like a cat watching a butterfly. He grins, causing a dimple to cut into his cheek. "Something like that," he answers.

I nod, feeling the pigeons take wing in my stomach. How much "like that" is that something? I want to ask, but he asks something first.

"Hey, Sophie, do you want to go somewhere after school? Just us."

"Are you asking me out?" It can't possibly be this easy.

"Maybe." He chuckles. "We can go to a sandwich place. You can practice your throw."

I smile. The whole issue with Shawn is as good as solved. "Deal."

***

Landon and I walk side by side to school. Neither of us speaks. I think he's not a big talker—this could actually work. Either he's incapable of finding what to talk about, or he doesn't think small talk improves upon the silence.

The third option would be that he's stupid.

I glance at him. He's not looking where he's going. Instead, he's watching me as if he expects me to spontaneously combust.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask, holding his gaze.

He gives me the smallest of grins. It's enough to make my heart falter completely. "No. Just feeling lucky."

"Lucky?" I don't get it. Sounds too cheesy to be worth talking about. I continue walking straight, but I'm still unable to take my eyes off his face.

"Well, I didn't think my morning would start like this."

"You mean running into me on the street?" I ask.

"Oi, Sophie, you're about to—"

Glong.

That's the sound the lamppost makes when I walk into it. I stagger backward, arms flailing, before I regain my balance.

Landon stands there, staring at me with his mouth open. I can tell by the way he holds his hands up in the air that he wants to approach and help me, but then isn't sure if that'll cost him his life.