“I didn’t ask you over here to dump all this on you,” she muttered. She kept looking down at their hands, trying to turn off her reaction to it and failing. And there were no more convenient excuses to get up and move away, to reduce the temptation. “Isaac … I just want to make you smile, I want you to be happy.”
“What are friends for? I want to know if you’re hurting, Summer, so that I can make you feel better,” he stated then as if it were completely obvious. “And you can! Do you know any jokes? I’ve got a weird sense of humour.”
She huffed an unexpected laugh. “I’m not good at jokes. I’m good at smart remarks and making people feel weird and being stupid and awkward.” She looked around the room helplessly. “Let’s … watch a movie.”
“You can’t help how you feel,” she parroted back softly. “I don’t — I don’t know what to do now. I expected you to be angry with me.”
His expression softened and he shook his head. “Why would I be angry with you? It’s not like you can help your feelings, is it? Plus…I’m kind of flattered, really.”
“I didn’t ask you over here to dump all this on you,” she muttered. She kept looking down at their hands, trying to turn off her reaction to it and failing. And there were no more convenient excuses to get up and move away, to reduce the temptation. “Isaac … I just want to make you smile, I want you to be happy.”
“What does age have to do with … ” She changed tack in the middle of the sentence. “It’s because of — him, isn’t it? You didn’t want to have to hide it or try to explain.” Summer looked down at their hands again, his on top of hers. “You keep touching me. Does that mean you think of me as your best friend?”
“W-what are you talking about?” he whispered warily and kept his hand on hers, ducking his head as he fought the tempting urge to hunch in on himself. “Yeah. Is…is that okay?”
“You can’t help how you feel,” she parroted back softly. “I don’t — I don’t know what to do now. I expected you to be angry with me.”
“You’re not!” she protested automatically. “I don’t think of you that way. Does a few years really make /so/ much difference?”
“Not really. I’m just…well, I’ve never been in a…I’ve never had a girlfriend,” he mumbled shyly and then shrugged as he glanced up at her. “Or any friends, really. Not a best one, anyway.”
“What does age have to do with … ” She changed tack in the middle of the sentence. “It’s because of — him, isn’t it? You didn’t want to have to hide it or try to explain.” Summer looked down at their hands again, his on top of hers. “You keep touching me. Does that mean you think of me as your best friend?”
It’s her turn to jerk a little when he touched her. She stared down at his hand and nodded, slowly. “I don’t know … if I can pretend not to see it … “
“I still want to be your friend, Summer. And as for more? Well…maybe? I don’t know you well enough yet.” He stated with a shrug and a small, encouraging smile. “But I’m still just a kid to you.”
“You’re not!” she protested automatically. “I don’t think of you that way. Does a few years really make /so/ much difference?”
Her gaze jerked to him. “You’re not — you’re not going to leave? I mean, I just — and you don’t want that, you just … wanted to be friends, and I just ruined that.” How do they manage to keep feeling the same things at the same time, even if for different reasons? They’re both shocked, and she can’t understand how he’s never heard that before.
“You can’t help how you feel and I still want to be your friend, Summer. Nothing’s ever gonna change that,” he stated in all seriousness, before casting a small, encouraging smile and reaching out to pat his hand off of hers. “Is that okay?”
It’s her turn to jerk a little when he touched her. She stared down at his hand and nodded, slowly. “I don’t know … if I can pretend not to see it … “
She pressed her lips together and didn’t look at him. “It’s /not/ you. It’s … ” She struggled with words for a moment. “Please don’t be mad at me for this. I — you’re really cute, okay, and I’m having a hard time ignoring that. I’m not going to hit on you or anything.” A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she waited for him to get up and leave.
Isaac blinked, jaw dropping then at the unexpected explanation spilling from her lips, the words rendering him speechless. Nobody had ever said that to him before, and he eyed her almost suspiciously, clearly trying to decide whether or not she was joking. “You…you think I’m cute?” he finally echoed and cocked his head to the side, before settling back in the chair. “Okay.”
Her gaze jerked to him. “You’re not — you’re not going to leave? I mean, I just — and you don’t want that, you just … wanted to be friends, and I just ruined that.” How do they manage to keep feeling the same things at the same time, even if for different reasons? They’re both shocked, and she can’t understand how he’s never heard that before.
Summer sighed and leaned her arms on the counter, hanging her head between them. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault I … It’s not your fault.” She swallowed hard and told her body to behave, then carried the glasses back over.
“What’s going on, Summer? What did I do or say wrong? I’m sorry for whatever it was…” he stated helplessly and reached out to take his glass from her, regarding her with increasing concern.
She pressed her lips together and didn’t look at him. “It’s /not/ you. It’s … ” She struggled with words for a moment. “Please don’t be mad at me for this. I — you’re really cute, okay, and I’m having a hard time ignoring that. I’m not going to hit on you or anything.” A sick feeling settled in her stomach as she waited for him to get up and leave.
Embarrassed, she pulled away entirely, and covered it by reaching for their glasses. She carried them into the kitchen to refill and hoped he didn’t notice her blush.
“I’m sorry…” He called out after her, before sighing and ducking his head, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He didn’t know what had happened there, but he was sure that he had overreacted.
Summer sighed and leaned her arms on the counter, hanging her head between them. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault I … It’s not your fault.” She swallowed hard and told her body to behave, then carried the glasses back over.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough. Distractedly, she kept petting his back, until her fingers caught in the edge of his shirt and brushed his skin, and then she did jerk back. “Sorry.”
Sighing with relief, Isaac had just begun to relax further, before he felt fingertips graze across his skin, and he stiffened. “That’s…it’s okay. You didn’t mean it.”
Embarrassed, she pulled away entirely, and covered it by reaching for their glasses. She carried them into the kitchen to refill and hoped he didn’t notice her blush.