Wrong Impression

22. Spinning like a dreidel

Tom was a fucking idiot without the most basic form of self control and a stupid mouth to match. He'd totally screwed up everything with Angie. What had he been thinking, touching her, kissing her like that? Nothing. The truth was he'd thought absolutely nothing. He'd let his brain go into standby and let his body have its way.

And now that he stopped to think about it, he did that a lot. When he ran track, when he danced, when he did parkour, when he did something dangerous on his skateboard... Because that's how he functioned. His body was a machine that knew what it had to do. His brain only got in the way. His body would've totally screwed Angie. His brain needed to step in.

So it was back to staying away from her, innocent kisses on the cheek and frustration that had him needing a million cold showers a day. Who said cold showers helped? They did nothing for him. Couldn't get the feel of Angie's skin off his hands.

She seemed a little embarrassed too and subtly moved a little further away from him while dancing so they would not accidentally touch. Because dancing was the hardest. With his brain in the equation, Tom found himself overthinking every move and messing up a lot more often than before. But it was either that or hands all over her again.

A month of absolute torture followed. Staying away from Angie without making it look too obvious, still suspended from school, the trial looming over his head. And it was like a huge blur that only got him dizzy, confused and frustrated. Especially frustrated.

Finally, his suspension was over and he could return to school, though he was looked upon as the guy who punched a teacher. Rumors flew all around about what happened, one unlikelier than the next. He didn't mind the rumors. He was so used to closing his ears and minding his own business. But maybe Angie didn't feel the same.

And the trial loomed above everything like a dark, vengeful bird. He couldn't take it anymore.

So on their last dance practice, he collapsed. In the middle of the song, he just sat down and buried his face in his hands.

"Hey." Angie turned the music off and sat next to him. "Did you trip?"

"Huh?" He didn't even look at her because he couldn't. Not without hearing her moan, seeing her with her eyes closed.

"While you were walking it off with the world on your shoulders. Did you trip?"

He normally would've laughed. It was funny because that was exactly what he was trying to do. Walk it off, as always. But only a strangled sound came out followed by a whimper.

"Hey," she said again, her voice much softer. Her hands took his face and lifted it. "What is it? The trial?"

"Yes. No. Everything." He sighed and shut his eyes tightly. "School, the trial. You."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Especially you." He put his hand on her cheek and was glad she didn't flinch or pull away. "I'm really sorry."

Angie looked at him warily. "You're really sorry for what?"

"Coming off as such a creep. Implying that I would ever force anything on you. Being so damn... ugh." He pulled away from her, rested his elbows on his knees and leaned his forehead against his forearms.

"Duh. I never thought you'd force me to do anything. And yes, I found the whole no kissing thing weird, but you had a point. We're just..." She hesitated and hugged her knees. "Different, I guess."

"I'm trying so hard to make this work, to not freak you out. But it's like the more I try, the more creepy I get."

She lifted his chin gently. "Then maybe you shouldn't try so hard."