Chapter 17

Yesterday was very interesting. After we ate, Bennet drove me home to my house. We talked mostly about random topics, favorite brands, cars, and clothes. I couldn't really answer them. But Bennet listened to everything I said with such intensity, it was like he was afraid I would disappear at a moment's notice.

Which makes me also aware that nobody else has been listening enough to me. Rude.

After we arrived at my home, he walked me to the door. I thought he would just walk me then turn to leave, but then he grabbed my hands and pulled me into a hug. It wasn't rushed or hard or fierce. It was soft and tender. He held me firmly, but there was a way that he wrapped his arms around me that made it feel like he was afraid to break me. As if I was made of glass.

It'd sound like an insult, to be fragile, but it's not. It's nice to be thought of as delicate, because that means he pays attention.

He then left with a kind good-night and sad smile. I think it's called a bittersweet smile. Maybe so, maybe not. I wouldn't know. Shakespeare isn't one of my favorites. My taste was more of Frances Hodgson Burnett if you get my drift.

(Frances Hodgson Burnett is the author of the novel The Secret Garden. I read that in third grade and I still reminisce about it. Totally fine if you don't get Cayce's drift. -I.M.)

Pulling up to the lot again in my brick, I park my car. After making sure I look presentable in the rear mirror, as Dad put it, I grab my backpack and hop out. Today I have Bennet's hoodie with me. I thought he would like it if I wore it. I think we're in a relationship, so it wouldn't hurt. I don't think he's my boyfriend, but in the eyes of the public, we might be. I mean we did just have a date last night. Was that a date? I don't know. Are there standards for what counts as a date and what doesn't? I wouldn't know.

The air is definitely crisper this morning. Today when I woke up, there was something about the dryness and chill of the morning air in my room that told me that it was colder than yesterday. Handerville must get cold really quickly. Especially if you're higher up than New York. Oh, well, time to bring out the winter jackets.

Walking into and through the school building, I near my locker. I see something huge, muscled, and good-smelling standing in front of it. Yes, good-smelling. I didn't realize until after he went home, but Bennet does smell good. I don't know what about his musky sharp cologne smell I like. Or maybe it's just his normal smell.

Normally, I'd not get attached to a smell. Call me a teen or any other name, but I like it. I may not tell everybody that I do, but that's just how it is.

Either way, I like it, and it has a nice effect on me. It gives some joy in smelling it. Not the burst your heart joy, but the tiny spark joy. The kind that doesn't last long, but always occurs when the same thing happens. Like when I get close enough to Bennet to smell him.

"Hey you," he says as he spots me. I smile and he moves to give me access to my locker.

"So how was your evening?" he asks. He leans against the lockers and crosses his arms, and I can't help but notice how his already huge chest squeezes out at me. I avert my eyes to the inside of my locker. Best not to ogle.

"It was very pleasant. I had a nice cup of wine after I got back," I say jokingly.

I look to see how it's registered. It apparently hasn't come off well, because Bennet looks at me with a wide mouth and pair of eyes.

"What?" he asks. I laugh at his response.

"It was a joke," I say as I reach up and pat his shoulder that is about the same height as the top of my head. He relaxes, then smiles.

"But I have drunk before," I say mischievously. Wide eyes and mouth again.

"When?" he asks incredulously. I look around the bowels of my locker and pull out my math book.

"About when I was in middle school," I reply. He looks truly scandalized.

I laugh even more. This is too good. Pulling Bennet's leg is truly entertaining. I'm laughing so hard that my tiny muscles in my core are close to cramping.

"Catch on Bennet," I say as my laughter subsides. Looking up I see Bennet is confused, his mouth in a pout.

"You mean...that was a joke too?" he asks.

I nod with emphasis. He looks like a bomb just went off in his head. I shake my head with a smile.

Turning back to my locker I slam it. I start to walk off to my first class, but then the heavy arm swivels 'round and loops itself around my shoulders. I've got to get used to that.

"Too many jokes Cace," he breathes in my ear.

I feel myself shiver. We walk with his hard arm draped across my neck like a fur scarf to class. I can't help but feel a little fuzzy inside though. The way his body presses down on me. His huge chest is right next to my face. If I turn my face, I could burrow it into that vast expanse of muscle. I banish the thoughts from my brain. Best not think about it.

Entering the math class, I take my usual seat next to the window. Bennet sits next to me, enclosing me with his body. I pull out my textbook and notebook, as well as my pencil case.

Class was usually the same. They hardly ever were different. Math was just my understanding and nodding, or not understanding and pouting at the teacher. Mostly those two. Nothing else really.

Today was no exception. I just nodded and pouted, but more of the nodding. Bennet and I whispered through class, talking about everything and nothing, mostly nothing though. Soon class was over.

Gathering my things and stowing it in my backpack, I head off to my class. But halfway there I realize that Bennet has been next to me the whole time. I feel bad for not giving him any attention. Turning to him, I try to smile my best smile, which isn't that good.

"Hey, sorry I've been ignoring you for the last hour or so," I apologize. He waves it off.

"No worries, I had a great time just watching you," he says. I smile.

"Was I entertaining?" I ask curiously.

Watching people doesn't sound like fun. They're usually so wrapped up in themselves that they can't tell what's going on around them. Usually. Maybe not for Bennet.

"Oh, most definitely," he replies. We arrive at my next class. I realize Bennet has just walked me to my class.

"I can walk to my class alone you know," I say to him. Pain dances across his countenance. Have I said something wrong?

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says, brushing my question aside. He turns to leave, but I grab his wrist and pull him back. Well, try to pull him back. Because he weighs more than me, when I try to pull him back I actually get pulled to him.

"Look," I start, my hand still on his arm. He looks down at me with a curious look. My eyes shy away from his blue ones. I just stare at my hand on his arm.

"I don't know what you're thinking if you don't tell me. And you kind of don't have a poker face, which you should know. So when I see you clearly looking sad and hurt, but turn away and don't say anything, I don't know what to do. And that doesn't help either of us. By us, I mean you and me. I know we're not intimate yet, but we are in a way going out. So you need to tell me what's going on in your head," I slowly look up at him, locking eyes, "okay? Otherwise, I don't know what to do, because I might hurt you."

Bennet looks at me for a long time before his face lights up into a dazzling smile.

"Don't worry Cace. Nothing you do could hurt me. And I'll try to tell you what I think. Is that better?"

I smile back. "So, now tell me, what's wrong?"

"Oh, that. I just thought you were pushing me away," he says.

"What? How do you mean?" I ask.

"Well," he says rubbing his hands together, "you sounded like you didn't want me to be here," he explains.

"Oh," is all I can say. I didn't realize how I said that might have come off as rude. "Well, my apologies. I didn't mean to push you away. I hope you can understand that that wasn't my intention," I say.

"I just thought that I was being a liability to you, making you walk me to my class and all."

He steps closer and lowers his face to my eye level. If you get any closer, I might just melt from your body heat. Or from how much of your hot body I can see.

"I would never see you as a liability," he says in a hushed tone. His face is close enough for me to feel his breath dance and fan across his face. I blush.

"Oh...well..." I try to say something back, but my voice is clogged in my throat. All I can concentrate on right now are the blue eyes that are burning into my mucky ones.

The bell rings, and he straightens up. He softly brushes the back of his hand against my cheek, smiles then promptly walks off. I watch his back as he does. All that's left is my heart fluttering in my chest. And the warm fuzzy feeling. Can't forget that.