Linger

E I G H T Y - S E V E N

My mind was in a battle of tug-of-war for the rest of the week. 

Daniel didn't ask me to stay after class once after Monday and I wasn't sure if it was because of what Principal Blakeley might've told him or maybe even Tyler walking in on us. 

I did find myself thinking more and more about what Chelsea told me though. 

And part of me would grow upset at how much I missed out on just because of our relationship. 

But anytime I began to even slightly consider that he would do it on purpose, the defeated look in his eyes floated to my mind. 

And the other part of me, the greater part of me, weighed with guilt. 

I couldn't ignore it.

I missed him more than ever. 

Yes, I missed my dance performance and prom. 

But I missed him more. 

If I could take back what I said to him in the classroom on Monday, I would. 

Although I didn't say much, it was still enough for defeat and hurt to fill his eyes, and the image haunting me for the rest of the week. 

I lifted my eyes to his apartment door in front of me, finding myself here once again. 

Although, he didn't call me to stay after class, he did text me, asking if we could meet this weekend. 

And although I agreed, I had no idea what to expect. 

My heart thumped in my chest as I looked down at the box of cinnamon rolls in my hands.

We had barely talked this week, except for Monday. Was he upset? 

Clearly, he wasn't afraid of getting in trouble, so I guess there was no reason for me to be either. After our conversation at the coffee shop Monday, Ben never mentioned anything else and I gave up worrying myself sick with all the what if's. Daniel and I had already talked about it so many times, it was exhausting. I was just happy he reached out to me and actually wanted to meet.

I lifted my hand to the door, knocking three times. 

The door opened, revealing Daniel. "Hey, you made it." 

"Of course." I gave him a small smile. 

"Come in." He stepped aside, leading me inside. 

His usually neatly styled hair laid flat on his head as he fumbled with the buttons on his dark green dress shirt. That same dark green color of his soccer jersey. The dark shade of green brought out the brown in his eyes beautifully, making me weak. 

He hastily finished buttoning his shirt as he headed toward the kitchen. 

"Is this a bad time?" I asked, closing the door behind us and following him. 

"No. No." He quickly shook his head, turning to face me as we stopped at the counter. "I was just getting ready to go . . . What do you have there?" His eyes landed on the box in my hands.