Chapter 37: XVI. Say That Again-3

"Are you okay hanging out at Zoey's?" I asked him curiously. Josh shrugged. "I don't really see her. I mean, she's usually hanging all over Braverman … but that stopped when you arrived." Josh's voice was very monotonous, giving nothing away, but even then I could see that it bothered him. I wondered if Zoey ever got off her high horse whether she and Josh could be happy together? I mean, what was wrong with Josh anyway? He was smart, and cute, and he had ambition. What more did she want? She couldn't really be so materialistic that Josh was too poor for her, could she? Though, I couldn't really put much past Zoey. I really hoped something as horrible as that couldn't be true. Did she really want Shea that badly? Shea was … a lot of things. But now I was wondering as to whether I really knew him at all. "So, will you go?" Josh pressed. I nodded. "Sure." *** I did as Josh told me to. I cheered when we scored. Which unfortunately wasn't very often. With two minutes on the clock, our school was down by sixteen points, and the attention of the crowd seemed to have shifted towards the after party, which sounded like it was going to be even bigger this week. Everyone wanted to forget tonight's performance. "Enjoying the game?" I jumped as the seat on the bleachers beside me was suddenly filled by a large figure. I had to do a double take when I saw Shea. When I saw him on Monday, his face had been healing, but now, only a few days later, it was like nothing had happened. Did bruises really disappear that quickly, and that flawlessly? Goddammit, he was handsome. I found myself distracted for a second after not having seen him in so long. I momentarily forgot that I was monumentally angry with him. "What are you doing here?" I snapped when I finally found my voice. "This is my school, isn't it? I always come to the game," he retorted, an ounce of cuteness to his voice, as though he was trying to break through my hard exterior. It wouldn't work. "Where have you been all this week?" I asked nonchalantly, turning my attention back to the field. "Helping my mom," he replied, his tone quickly saddening. "She's, um, had it tough this week. Me being hurt and all, she took it pretty hard." The seriousness in his tone told me he was telling the truth, which felt nice to receive for once. It also meant that Cece had been telling me the truth. "Shouldn't your mom be taking care of you when you're hurt?" I wondered. Or I could have helped, if you hadn't been such a jerk. "Mom took care of me my whole life. It's my turn now," he said defensively, his voice suddenly sharp. I flinched a little, and I could tell that I had hit a nerve with my careless comment. I brought my eyes back to his. As I looked into their brown depths, it still felt strange to me how comfortable and right I felt with Shea, even after everything that had happened. The stupid, romantic part of my brain just needed him, and hoped that he needed me. Shea closed his eyes. "Sorry," he apologised, "I don't mean to snap. You couldn't have known … I don't want to …" Shea sighed. "I've missed you this week, Sara," he said, settling on his words. And the logical part of me knew that this wasn't fair. "You missed me?" I repeated. "You put me through what is probably the worst week of my life and you missed me?" For Christ's sake, my mom and I were not even talking. I'd experienced ostracism. Shea had been hurt. Badly. I wondered how his back was. I wanted to ask if he was in any pain but my pride stopped me. "I know, I know." He sighed. "I get that this sucks, Sara, but –" "No," I snapped, cutting him off. "No buts." I got up from my seat on the bleachers and stood in front of him. "I don't know what kind of martyr game you're playing with me, but I'm over it. I let you in!" I hissed. "I told you things, I was vulnerable with you! I let you sleep in my freaking bed. You've made me feel like a complete idiot. A complete cliché who falls for the guy who simply doesn't care enough to throw the girl a bone." My voice was so low, yet so angry, it felt like ice escaping my throat. "You don't get to show up when you want, and tell me, or not tell me things, and decidefor me. You're not my father, and I'm not a child. If you want any kind of relationship with me going forward, then you had better pray for some honesty next time we talk." Shea stared at me, stunned. His lips parted, but no words came out. The game had finished sometime during our argument, and people started filing out of the stands. "Josh will be waiting for me." I didn't wait for his response. I simply spun around and moved with the crowd out of the stands. *** I was already having second thoughts about the party as Josh and I pulled up to Zoey's house. The party looked so much bigger than last week, with people spilling out onto the street clutching red cups of who knows what. Again, I was reminded of the fact that only a week ago, Shea and I were together at this party. Cece had done my makeup for me and had dressed me in something completely daring. But tonight, I was with a friend, and I was comfortable in jeans and a cardigan. "Let's have some fun, Sara," Josh urged. "I'm super depressed about losing tonight. Help me feel better." He grinned, winking at me, before motioning for me to get out of his car. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the party. We weaved our way through the sea of people on their way to being drunken messes. The music was so loud that I could barely hear the greetings of Josh's friends as we arrived. His friends were gathered in Zoey's grand entrance foyer, sitting and standing around the stairs with drinks in their hands, and it looked as though they had stolen a few bags of pretzels.