Rumor Has It (Rumor Has It #1)(11)

Sitting in my car, I pull out my phone. If I’m tripping this much over a few text messages, this isn’t worth it. I’m just going to delete the whole conversation and hope she doesn’t text me back. That’ll put an end to it.

Turning my phone on, a new text message alert pops up. I bite my lip, unsure what it's going to read.

Emerald22: No worries. And ur not getting my name, or any dates for that matter, until I get yours ;)





And there it is. My fear is gone, and I'm smiling as I re-read the text message. Who is this girl? My text didn't freak her out. Or maybe it did, but she's not letting on from the response. It had to be friendly, right? Even a little flirty? She could've ended it after ‘no worries', but she added the name thing. And the date thing. Something that she didn’t have to do. Okay, this wasn’t ending anytime soon.





Chapter 8





Emma





As soon as I read the text message, I hide it from Jen. She hounds me during lunch, asking what he wrote, but I can't show here. Especially with Micah and Lana sitting with us. A boy is putting it out there if I want to go out with him. And, of course, I react the way I always do. I turn into a big ball of nerves because I've put boys out of my mind. I don't need to get involved with any stupid games involving guys. But it's moments like these that make me wish I was as comfortable with guys as Jen is.

Last year, before my horrific double date, there was a guy that I thought was cute. Paxton. He was a senior, and we had art together. He had the bad-boy look, complete with leather bracelets, fingernails painted black, torn jeans, and hair hanging in front of his eyes; his bangs always a different color. He was thinner but still defined. I know, because when he'd reach up to help Ms. Hales rearrange frames or easels, I'd sneak a peek as his shirt lifted up. I had to keep myself from drooling on more than one occasion.

But, of course, I was pathetic. I'd been asked out precisely one time before that. I always kept my nose to the ground, consciously avoiding everyone. But at Jen's behest, I decided to put myself out there a little more starting my junior year. And I got noticed right away. I didn't like the first boy who asked me out, so even though I had no idea what was happening—he asked me at lunch, in front of everyone—I smiled and said, "Thanks, but I'm busy." My answer didn't seem to affect him very much, and I thought the way I handled it was entirely appropriate. Jen, on the other hand, scolded me for a week straight, saying how I should've at least gone out with him once. I didn't like him, but Paxton was a different story.

Then it happened. It was the day before winter break, and after art, he walked me to my next class. I was already having a mild panic-attack, even though I'd talked to him a little during class. But this wasn't class. He could've been anywhere, but he was next to me, asking me what kind of things I liked outside of school. Looking back on it, I was so lame. Someone asks you a question, and you answer, right? No big deal. But my stupid brain kept thinking Oh my God, Paxton's talking to me. Is he flirting with me? Should I flirt back? How do I flirt back? Should I touch his arm? No, wait, laugh at what he says.

Everything Jen had ever told me about how to ‘play the game' when going out with a boy flew through my mind. So, by the time we turned the corner, and I arrived at my next class, I just stood there, staring up at his gorgeous amber eyes.

“Emma?” he said, and I nodded with a huge, dumb, smile on my face. “Emma, did you hear what I said?”

“Oh.” I let out a soft giggle and touched his arm.

He looked down at my hand and then back at my face, confused. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, finally putting together the words he was saying.

“I just asked you out.”

“Oh!” I shouted, making some students around us turn and stare. “Oh.” Getting myself under control, I remembered Jen telling me you shouldn’t seem too anxious. I let out a very calm, “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

"Okay." He looked at me again, and though I didn't think it at the time, looking back on it, he was looking at me like I had escaped a mental institution.

He got my number, but I never heard from him the entire two weeks of winter break. When I got back to school, I didn't bring it up, and neither did he. He acted like I was just another classmate he was in art with.

So, even if a guy isn't asking me out, but just bringing up the possibility of me going out with him, I get totally flustered and don't know how to respond. So, I don't.

But that doesn't mean it isn't on my mind. I sit through my entire history class, trying to pay attention, but instead thinking of how to reply. I don't want to shut the door on him completely. He's the one who initiated texting again, asking where I sit for lunch. He's the one that brought up bringing me a soda. He's the one putting it out there. Even if I'm not ready to meet him and find out exactly who he was, I don't want to say no. But I have no idea what to say.

Even through art class, it's still scrambling my brain. We're doing life drawing and today is the ever-ready and always dependable, bowl of fruit, but I can't even focus on it. I tried sketching the bowl, the apples and pears, and it all looks like garbage. Or maybe's it's great, but I can't think straight. It's been nearly two hours, and I have no clue what to reply.