Be Rude but Love Me | ✔

CHAPTER 31

I still think of it as a dream. I still think of it as unreal. I think of his face as I played piece after piece, his face stricken by something close to awe, to wonder. I didn't ask him what it was all about, why he wanted me to play for him. After that, he simply walked me back home, silent and said, "Goodnight, Tracy."

This morning, as I play it all out in my head for the millionth time, I pray that a little caffeine will dissipate the clouds that have cloaked my mind for the past two hours. But instead of the caffeine waking me up, it's my burning flesh. That chases away all sleepiness immediately. The hot dark liquid runs down my hand, burning me as I pour it into the cup. In a rush, I let go of the carafe and run to the sink to relieve the pain.

When I turn around with a finger in my mouth and a grimace twisting my features, Lucy is standing at the entrance of the kitchen. "So dramatic." And with a roll of her eyes, she goes take a seat at the kitchen table.

"You're going over Matt's again today?"

A bright smile spreads across her little face as she screams an enthusiastic yeah! And she launches herself in a story, telling how Matt always gets new ideas of games and makes her days fun.

"And you, what do you do?" She inquires. Oh, I exist now.

I shrug as I prepare her a bowl of cereals. "Not much. I went out with Will yesterday."

"Nice." She smiles. "How's Yann?" When I hesitate to reply, she continues, "I know you don't like him but I thought you could know how he is."

If she only knew. "He's fine." Or maybe not, I still don't understand his behavior from last night.

"You talk to him?" Her small eyes are on me as she looks under her lashes. Her questions are not innocent, I can see it.

"From time to time, yes. Eat."

And she quiets, no more questions asked. And like yesterday, I watch her cross the street to go have some fun with Matt. But today, apparently, they're having a picnic and they're happy to take Lucy out. I politely decline Matt's mom's invitation, pretending to already have a full schedule for the day. I couldn't have given a greater lie. My schedule is awfully empty. I don't even have a schedule at all.

Or maybe I do after all. As I've done a lot the past few days and weeks, I walk to Yann's house. During the walk, with every step I take, a memory emerges from the back of my mind, and a smile settles comfortably onto my lips. What happened last night, I will never forget.

I raise my fist and let my knuckles hit the wood. Once. Twice. He opens the door at last. His sweatpants are his sole piece of clothing and his hair is in a morning mess, revealing either he's just woken up or he hasn't taken a shower, or both.

"What?"

It's funny how I've been expecting this exact greeting and am not surprised at all. I shake my head, chase my stupid smile away and refuse to look at him. "I knew you weren't yourself last night." And I turn around.

"I was fully myself last night."

I turn back around. "Were you really?"

He rakes a hand through his hair and looks at me straight in the eyes. "Yes, Graham. I was."

I walk up to him and fight back the sudden urge to run my fingers through his hair. "Why did you make me play?" I finally ask.

Without any warning, he takes one of my hands in his and, pulling me in, closes the door behind me. I follow him quietly, not offering any resistance to him. I let my hand mold perfectly into his, watching my slim fingers in his large ones. The contrast is shocking: thin feminine fingers in calloused manly ones. His hand is so big that if we were to place our palms one against the other, my fingers would be twice as small as his. I like that.