Chapter 53 Extra_ First Date.

Chapter 53 Extra_ First Date.
I crossed my arms and held in a caustic remark. Cross furiously scribbled on his sheet of paper, if his eyes could shoot laser beams they would be right now and burn the sheet before himn into a dark crisp.

He was actively doing his homework, if only to avoid arguing with me further. AIl because of something so stupid as the color of shirt I chose to wear.

When I couldn't hold it in any longer I spurted my thoughts. "Since when was yellow a bad color?

"It’s not the yellow, it's the shade you chose." He hissed. "What are we, in kindergarten? No one wears Winnie the Pooh shirts anymore."

"It's not a Winnie the Pooh shirt, I can't help it if it has a little jar of honey, what the heck is your problem?"

Cross slammed his pencil down on the table and pulled the fabric from the bottom, almost tearing it from the strength he used and bringing me face-to-face with him.

"What were you thinking about when you bought this shirt? Or rather, should I say who?"

"Excuse me?! It's a freaking shirt you moron!"

"Do you subconsciously like Theodore?" He interrogated, his voice holding a note of accusation.

My head spun. "Wait, what?!" I was floored. Is that what all of this was about? "Why on earth would I like Theodore, you know him and I are just friends. We joke about being siblings."

"But you're not." Cross grounded, a vein on his neck coming to visibility. "You've been tutoring him privately for over three weeks now and you guys spend a long time alone."

"You're being ridiculous. He's your friend. He's our friend."

"You call him nicknames. One time you called him honey. You never call me honey, and now you have this new shirt."

I paused. "Wait a second, is this the reason you've been on high the entire week?!" This whole week we've been arguing over small things that make absolutely no sense, and now that I think about it, the dots are connecting and I'm sensing he's been at edge about my time with Theodore but hasn't said anything about it until now.

Cross pouted. "He's been joking around a lot about you."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Then, I recalled a past statement of Theodore saying he was going to mess with Cross's's head. "Oh great, what has he been saying? You know he does it to rile you up. Look at you, you're falling right into his trap."

Cross made a noise that sounded like a whine. Forsaking his homework, he brought me over his lap. "Why don't you love me Clara. You should love me more."

Immediately I already knew what Theodore told him. Most likely something around the lines of me preferring Theodore, so much so that its why I spent so much time with him and loved him over Cross.

They joked around much, but it seemed Cross was taking them too seriously. At least, the ones concerning me.

My thumb soothed the frown on his lips. "Theodore's test is this Friday. Once that is over I won't need to tutor him anymore. Trust me when I say I love you more." I kissed his lips, but he doesn't kiss me back. "Honey, kiss me back."

Crosd lifted his chin and sneered. "Gross. You use that with him."

"Didn't you just complain I never use that with you!"

His eyes flamed. "I don't want it anymore."

I felt like slamming my head on a desk. It's like dealing with a toddler. A grown toddler, who was taller than me and much, much stronger. "Listen, I have no attraction to Theodore whatsoever. You think I'd fall for a guy I have to teach this much? One of the things I like about you is that you're smart. You're better than me in math and a guy who knows his numbers is hot."

I could sense him moll out a bit. "Really?" He asked.

"Yes."

Cross leaned into me and kissed. As our lips moved I felt his hands slid into the back pockets of my jeans. One slid back out, retaining my cell phone in hand and he tried to do two things at once. I gave him the eye as I saw him select a specific contact to send a message.

He blinked innocently. "What? I'm going to cancel your tutoring with Theodore today." He began typing an excuse that sounded nothing like me. No doubt once our friend read that he would know it was Cross who sent it and not I.

"I thought you agreed with him having the test this Friday," I groaned. Just when I thought I was making progress, the reality is that I wasn't.

"I don't remember agreeing to anything. And anyway, I'm your priority. Not him." Cross continued murmuring under his breath about how he doubted Theodore actually needed it. And little brothers needing to stop cock-blocking, And how he must always come first over every man in my life.

Deciding it would take too much effort to stop him on his roll, I let him and focused back on my homework.

The room was quiet for a while after the "Theodore crisis" was averted. I was trying to focus on my own essay, but it was impossible when Cross was using my shoulder as a headrest, his fingers tracing slow, possessive circles on the bare skin of my arm.

​"Clara," he said suddenly, his voice clearer than it had been all afternoon.

​"Hmm?"

​"I'm taking you out. A real date. Saturday."

​I stopped writing. We’d been an item for a few weeks now, but between the library sessions, hiding in empty classrooms we hadn't actually done the normal couple thing.

​"A real date?" I teased, turning in his lap to look at him.

"Does that mean you're going to open doors and not growl at the waiter?"

​He didn't smile. He looked intense, his gaze scanning my face as if he were looking for an excuse to cancel it before it even started. "I'm serious. Wear something casual, that isn't yellow. I’m picking you up at six."

​"Where are we going?"

​"You'll see." He leaned in, nipping my bottom lip just hard enough to make me gasp. "And leave the phone at home. I don't want Theodore, or anyone else interrupting."

​Saturday arrived with a humidity that made my hair want to rebel. I was standing in front of my mirror, staring at a mountain of clothes that all suddenly looked like rags.

​"He's just a boy, Clara. Not the King of England," my mother said, leaning against the doorframe of my bedroom. She had that knowing, slightly amused look that always made me feel like I was ten years old again.

I wasn't even someone who fussed over what I wore, that role was usually left for my mom but here I am fussing over clothes, boy was I whipped.

“Clara darling , I can't believe I'm saying this but don't worry all that much about what you wear, just focus on having as much fun as you can baby. Also I'm pretty sure Cross won't be focused on your clothes, he seemed like such a delight, just relax I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun with your hunk of a boyfriend .” She said suggestively giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“Mom!” I groaned incredulously. I hated when she got like this. But I could also tell she was having a lot of fun, so I had to indulge her.

​The doorbell rang at exactly 6:00 PM. Not 5:59. Not 6:01. Cross was nothing if not precise when he wanted something.

When I opened the door, the air in my lungs simply vanished. He wasn't in a polished shirt. He was in casual jeans and a dark, charcoal-gray t-shirt that fit him so well it should be illegal. It clung to his chest and arms, highlighting every muscle he’d spent years building on the field. His hair was messy, like he’d just run his fingers through it, and he smelled like pine and soap.

​He looked dangerous. But the way his eyes raked over my emerald tank top and black jeans was anything but polite.

​He didn't say hello. He just stepped inside, grabbed my waist, and pulled me flush against him.

​"You look..." He swallowed, his throat bobbing. "You’re trying to kill me, aren't you?"

​"Maybe a little," I whispered, my heart thrumming so loudly I was sure he could feel it through his shirt.

​"Good. Let's go before I decide we should stay in."

Bye mom!” I yelled as Cross all but pulled me through the front door, even though she wasn't visible to him I just knew she was somewhere lurking.

​
​Cross pulled the car into the gravel lot of The Neon Vault, the biggest, loudest arcade in the city.

​"The arcade?" I laughed, stepping out into the neon-soaked air.

​"You said I was a toddler," he reminded me, his hand immediately finding mine and interlacing our fingers. His grip was warm and firm. "Might as well play the part. Besides, I'm going to destroy you at Skee-ball."

​"In your dreams, Cross."

​The next three hours were a blur of flashing lights, synthesized music, and the smell of popcorn and ozone.

It was the most us we had ever been.

​Cross was relentless. He played like he was in the state championships, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed as he slammed the puck toward my goal. Every time he scored, he’d lean over the table and give me a cocky, lop-sided grin.

​"What's the matter, CJ? Calculus not helping your aim?"

​"Shut up!" I laughed, lunging for the puck.

​We moved to the racing games, sitting in the plastic bucket seats side-by-side. He kept leaning over to kiss my temple while I was trying to drift around a corner, purposefully distracting me so he could take the lead.

​"That's cheating!" I squealed as my car slammed into a wall on the screen.

​"It’s strategy," he murmured, his lips lingering on my skin.

"Everything with you is strategy."

​By 9:00 PM, we had a mountain of tickets and a shared basket of greasy fries that tasted better than any five-star meal. We found a quiet corner near the back, behind the old Pac-Man machines where the light was dim.

​Cross sat on a low bench, pulling me between his legs. He was glowing, like actually glowing from the fun. The intensity was still there, but it was now accompanied by a raw, genuine affection.

​"Did you have fun?" he asked, his hands sliding up my thighs, the heat of his palms seeping through the red fabric.

​"I did. Even if you are a sore winner."

​"I'm not a winner yet," he whispered.

​He pulled me down for a kiss that tasted like salt and soda. It started sweet, a soft press of lips, but then he groaned, his hands tightening on my hips, pulling me harder against him. The arcade noise faded into a dull hum. All I could feel was him, the iron grip of his arms, the way his tongue swirled against mine, and the way his heart beat a frantic, heavy rhythm against my chest.
​He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine.

​"Clara," he breathed, his eyes searching mine. “Graduation is coming, and you're coming with me."

“First of all,” I laughed, “that's a shitty way to ask and also of course I was going to be at graduation, with or without you.” I was poking the bear.

“Don't be such a smart mouth,” he said scowling, “you know what I mean…yes?” His eyes searched mine, and even if a part of me still wanted to mess with him, the vulnerability in his eyes convinced me otherwise.

“Of course I will.” I say smiling, before throwing myself into his arms as he caught me with an oomph.

​In the glow of the neon lights, with my heart racing and my skin prickling under his touch, I knew right there and then, ​I was his priority. And he was mine.

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A/N: I wrote some extras but i don't know how to feel about them....

Lmk what you think..?