Chapter Text
I think Veronica's suspicious.
It's not as if I've done anything wrong. I arrived home a few hours ago holding sturdy bags full of shopping, finally content with Elaine's gift, and Veronica ogled me as if I'd chopped all my hair off.
'Why are you so happy, Ellie? You left the house all crabby.'
I smiled, told her I bought a chocolate milkshake that immensely cheered me up and rushed up the stairs because it's not as if I can say, 'oh, I tripped over again , but a random (hot) blond guy helped me, so I'm not hurt and guess what? He's the same guy I gave ten pounds to a few months ago cos I tripped him up- but he RETURNED THE DAMN MONEY- and now-now I have my ten pounds back, but HE ASKED TO EXCHANGE NUMBERS OMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!
AND HE CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL!
BEAUTIFUL!
I then plopped onto my bed, and the weirdest, sappiest sigh left my mouth. Maybe it was the fact that no movement could be heard from my room, no creak from me stepping onto the floorboards that led to Veronica knocking on my door and peeping her head. She'd asked what was wrong with me, and I, still flopped on my bed, possibly replied a bit too sunnily. Thank the stars above that Diane called me that minute, so I had a decent excuse to leave Veronica's watchful eyes.
Diane questioned me on my sudden merriness as well, but I was way too hyper to answer her. As a result, I started laughing.
Full-on laughing .
Even now, I can't comprehend why I laughed . It could've been the sugar; it could've been the exhilaration of completing a present that took me far too long to organise, but I'm going to blame the tingles in my stomach that continued to tickle my sides. Luckily for me, Diane started laughing too. I don't understand why she was laughing, but I won't complain. Because of our guffaws(I genuinely sounded like a hyena), I decided not to tell her about Meliodas (maybe later, but not at the moment).
Tears were soon rolling down my cheeks, my face as pink as rose petals. Whenever our laughs died down, either of us would start snorting again, triggering the other, and we'd proceed from wherever we left off. However, I abruptly ended the call as Diane regained her breathing. It was for the best.
Nonetheless, none of them explains why I'm currently sitting on the edge of my bed, gripping my phone in one hand and Meliodas' number on scrap paper in the other. My sisters and father are in bed. It's around three in the morning, and I should be in bed because Elaine's party/sleepover is tomorrow.
The only source of light is my lamp, shining radiantly against the dark. Now and then, there's a faint sound of cars rumbling in the distance through my open window, and if I listen well, my father's low snoring can be heard.
I told Meliodas I would add his number to my contacts as soon as I could.
...so why haven't I?
I suppose I should know the answer…
I want to talk to him again, for the butterflies in my stomach to vomit rainbows as they did last time, for my hand to brush his so prickles can explode across my skin. All of that depends on whether I add his number or not.
But let's say we start texting and become closer, and he doesn't like who I am? He could get to know me and think of me as a twat or disgusting or someone he doesn't want to associate with.
And that would hurt.
I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to take this risk. More than that, I don't want him to start liking a fake version of me because I don't think the real me is someone he'll have feelings for. The girl Meliodas befriended today is me, but I'm also clumsy; I make mistakes; I can cause situations to become awkward; my laugh sounds atrocious- and is that someone he'll like?
(I'm not perfect).
Heart heaving in my chest, I crunch the piece of paper into a tiny ball and throw it across my room, where it lands directly on my desk.
It's for the best.
Repeating the phrase in my head like a mantra, I curl into my pillow as wistful dreams envelop my mind. Dreams that will never occur.
.
.
.
I wake up as soon as vivid green eyes near my face, accompanied by a sly grin and a mop of blonde hair Yawning, I berate myself for allowing him to enter my head. I will never see him again: he should be forgotten. He and I were abrupt friends, the poor guy I tripped over and handed money to. That is all.
Glancing at my clock placed on the opposite wall, my groggy eyes are barely alert to observe the time. The minute hand is around ten, and the hour hand is somewhat close to eleven. Elaine’s party commences at four. There is time to doze for a few more minutes before Veronica leaps onto my bed or Margaret dreadfully scrapes the curtains apart.
Sleep drags me under once again.
.
.
.
If I can choose between either of my sisters arising me out of bed, it would be Margaret. As much as I adore Veronica (because only she and Diane embolden me to show off more skin) her tactic to awakening somebody is truly ridiculous .
“ELIZABETH! GET OFF YOUR BED!” She yells into my ear. My eyebrow twitches.
“Five more minutes…” I grumble, twisting to delve under my sheets. It’s warm here. Veronica huffs, and for a few seconds, everything is silent and the temptation to dream again almost wins me over. Almost.
The weight of a body slams into my stomach, knocking the air out of my chest as I bolt upright and my eyes snap open, sheets falling to my waist. She sits on my bed, knees-crossed, arms folded with a sly smirk plastered across her face. Faintly, the sounds of my father calling someone leaks into my ears and the smell of delicious chocolate frosting drifts into my nose.
“Good morning, Veronica,” I say tiredly, shoving her shoulder in an attempt for more space.
“Good afternoon to you too, Elizabeth.” She raises a brow. “I thought you were going to Elaine’s today?”
“It’s at four.” I yawn, stretching my arms out as my neck clicks. “What’s for breakfast?”
She grins, and that’s when I notice she’s already dressed for the day. “Might wanna get ready for the party. I’m going to Guila’s, Margaret’s about to leave to meet Gil and father’s gonna see Uncle Denzel. You’re gonna have to run to Elaine’s.”
“Can’t father drop me off?”
Veronica jumps off and she’s at the door in a second, her hair flying. “Check your clock, Ellie,” she winks, ”and have fun!”
“ Sisters ,” I grumble under my breath, but I scan the wall to check the clock. And go rigid.
3:35 pm.
Because of the way our house sinks into silence, I’m positive everyone heard my scream.
The next fifteen minutes are a haze. One minute, I’m frenziedly running around my room, packing my bag for Elaine’s sleepover that I should’ve prepared last night but my mind was controlled by enchanting shades of green. After that, I hop into the bathroom to brush my teeth, have the quickest shower of my life (my hair’s still soaked, but I can live), and then, my wet hair and I dash to my wardrobe to pull out high-waisted black leggings and a blue cropped hoodie that I shove onto my body.
All done in a matter of ten minutes.
The second I’ve locked the house, I rush out like the wind. The March breeze tickles my neck, and I’m halfway down the street, next to the walls layered with psychedelic graffiti when I realise what I’ve forgotten.
Cursing, I bolt back down the road, almost colliding into a lampost (I swerve at the right moment) and reach my house to slam the door open. I grab the purple bag full of Elaine’s presents and, just in case, chuck deodorant into my overnight bag (I’m sure I stink ) and fling a mento into my mouth(my breath probably stinks too).
I glance at the mirror to see whether I look normal or insane. One look at my face, and I decide to not inspect further.
Ignoring the rumblings of my stomach, I practically fly out of my house. My legs ache, I’m starving, and my hair -that’s still drenched but marginally drier- slaps against my back whenever I step. To anyone peering outside their window, I must seem deranged, like a silver goose. Who’s to say I’m not?
Three crossings later, the scent of lavender floods my nose, and I know, without confirmation, that I’ve arrived at the right place. A two-storey, red-clay brick house smiles upon me, two chimneys allocated on either side of its cross-gabled roof. Four arched windows are in a row at the top, a potted plant noticeable through each- there’s a blurry image of Elaine’s brother sitting at his desk in the furthest right(or sleeping) - and below, square windows dot the house. I slow down while walking through the clear path in the middle of the front garden. It’s like walking through a rich parade of colours as vibrant flowers are strewn everywhere, causing the environment to be homely.
Elaine’s and Diane’s houses are like extra homes to me. I know how to sneak in and out without being caught, and can make my way through either with my eyes closed.
Reaching the white, front door, I knock three times.
Seconds later, it’s yanked open by Diane-her chestnut hair tied in two high pigtails by purple baubles, and amaranthine eyes widen upon seeing me.
I blink. She blinks. My tummy rumbles.
Her lips twitch before she bursts into laughter, clutching the door for support. Her outfit consists of ripped, black jeans, a crimson racer vest and a denim jacket. As she persists to laugh, I’m left to wonder how on earth she had time to arrive on time and also don clothes that suit her perfectly.
Diane snorts, struggling for air while I stand immobile. She regards me with a sparkle in her eyes and says, “Would you rather have a towel for your hair, food for your poor stomach, or a watch to check the time?” Elaine emerges from behind and giggles.
“I bought sweets?” I answer meekly, gesturing to my bag. “For all of us, oh, and Happy Birthday!”
Elaine ducks under Diane’s arm that's leaning against the wall and bobs up at her side. “Thank you, Elizabeth! What type?”
“Strawberry laces!”
Immediately, the two girls freeze. Less than an instant later, they’re dragging me through the door, shoving my bags onto the floor, and plopping me onto the fluffy, mint-green sofa in the living room. They perch next to me, leaning their heads in as if they’re going to reveal a secret, and Diane settles a woolly cushion in my lap.
“What’s the matter?” I whisper, the atmosphere is hushed and reticent, a flowery fragrance welcomes me in and otherwise, it’s quiet.
“Elizabeth,” Elaine starts, “you can tell us if something’s up, okay? King isn’t listening because he’s upstairs, so whatever you say will remain between us three.” I gulp. Diane stares at me, her hand wrapped around my shoulder and her hair brushing against my cheek, but I can only swallow as their gazes intensify. She sighs. “You’re obviously having a boy problem-”
“What!?” I exclaim, straightening. “No!” Where on earth did they obtain that assumption?
“Every boy issue you have, good or bad, you bring strawberry laces,” Elaine breezily explains, acting as if it’s the simplest, most well-known fact in the world. “It’s Haribo for family arguments and chocolate buttons for your period.”
I can only ogle them in shock.
“So, you gonna tell us?” Diane nudges my shoulder. “We promise to keep quiet.”
“No-I-I don’t have any guy problems or issues. I bought strawberry laces because they’re tasty, not because of whatever weird presumption you two have devised!”
My best friends regard me with raised eyebrows. It’s crazy to think how much they know, and it’s scary too. But I know that underneath this bizarre facade, they care. It’s shown in disparate ways, sometimes Elaine bakes heavenly cookies just for us three, or Diane punches the few people who send mini insults our way. Strange, really, to gather how far we’ve come since I shared half my jam sandwich with Diane and since we discovered Elaine with a bleeding elbow in the toilet. Throughout our entire friendship, we’ve never disclosed any secrets, even the one of Diane liking King, though Elaine found it cute.
I can trust these two. With my life.
Plus, it doesn’t seem as if they’ll stop inspecting me until I say something.
“Mayyyybe I have a teeny tiny...well, it’s not an issue. Or a problem…”
“Do you want us to murder him? Or-”
“No!” I interrupt Diane, startled. “It’s very unimportant. Very. ”
She suddenly grabs both my shoulders, hauling me to her attention. “Please, please tell me you at least used protection-”
“Diane, stop !” I say, laughing, and Elaine joins in. Diane playfully punches me in the shoulder, a light smile on her face, and my head gracelessly flumps onto Elaine’s lap.
The blonde(her hair is more golden, like the sun) strokes my wet hair. “Do you wanna tell us, Ellie?”
“...”
“...”
“...I met a hot guy.”
Diane chokes. Elaine reaches over and thumps her back. After recovering from spluttering, she grabs my arm to heave me up and looks me square in the eye, expression serious, a motion for me to continue.
“We went out for a milkshake. He gave me his number.”
“You have his number?" She squeals, hauling me off the sofa and pulling me into a tight, spinning hug. The fluffy carpet is soft underneath my toes, the walls a creamy blur, the family pictures hung on it are a haze of colours and Diane’s childlike excitement pangs in my chest as guilt. "I'm so proud of you! This is wonderful!”
“And…" I take a deep breath, gently prying away, ”I have decided to not add it to my phone-”
“ You disappointment .”
“...excuse me?”
Elaine speaks before me, “Now now, Diane. Just because the guy is hot doesn’t mean she needs to add his number to her contacts.”
“But Elliee!” She whines, pouting and purposely largening her eyeballs. “You’ve lost a great opportunity.”
To be fair, they only met yesterday. We don’t know if he’s a genuine, nice guy yet.”
“ Yet. That yet is important.”
Elaine rolls her kind, amber eyes at Diane and turns to regard me. “How did you two meet?” She asks, tilting her head.
“I was about to trip over, but he stepped in and took the brunt of the fall.”
Diane grins with a mad glint in her purple eyes, flapping her hands like a chicken. “If that’s not a rom-com meeting, then I don’t know what is! You went out for a milkshake after that, right? How was it?”
I shuffle a little, plopping back onto the sofa, which sinks as I sit. “It was… good. Very good. I learned a lot about him and his life, and he’s funny, and I think - maybe - he was flirting…”
“If the guy was flirting, then why don’t you add his number?”
“As Elaine said, I don’t know if he’s a genuine, nice guy. He could’ve been faking it, or maybe he wasn’t actually interested, or I just-I don’t know- could’ve been some dodgy number.”
“I’m worried about you, Elizabeth,” Diane tuts. “Take the risk.” She scans my hair, mirth lining in her smile, “ Shall I get a towel for you? Or do you want a hairdryer?”
“You’re only asking her so you can go upstairs and chat to King.” Elaine waves her off, and the brunette blushes a light pink. She faces me next, still standing, and states, “so you don't want to add his number because you’re scared he’s faking his interest in you or because the number may be dodgy?” We ignore Diane’s mutter of ‘ stupid’ . “You don’t need to add his number as it is a dodgy thing...but ….”
“But what?” I press her on.
“If it’s a dodgy number, you block it and get over it. If it isn’t, and he's being fake, then you be the better person and block a connection before it forms.” She shrugs, and I don’t want to say that yesterday there was already a fiery spark, one that I’m very much afraid of. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
The worst that could happen is… “he’ll get bored,” I mutter inaudibly, as delicate as a feather.
“Bored of what?” Diane quietly inquires, and thank the heavens that the doorbell’s shrill rings echo at that exact second- a perfect, fabulous diversion from me answering the question.
After, everything is brisk. People load into the house as Elaine’s pile of presents tower in a range of stripy bags and spotty boxes. Diane and I talk to friends and distribute cookies and strawberry laces that I covertly gobble on without anyone watching. When Jericho arrives carrying a lilac bag, King saunters down the stairs, yawning. I cheerfully wave to him while walking to the kitchen for water and he makes his way to me.
“How hard was it to buy a present?” He probes upon reaching my side. My groan is a sufficient response because he laughs, nodding in agreement. “Ban better have gotten her a wonderful gift. Elaine was kind enough to allow him to bring a friend along, ” he says sharply, examining his watch.
“Oh, who?”
“No idea. We’re meeting some others at the bowling alley. Guess we’ll see there.” He stretches his arms above his head, navy sleeves fluttering.
“Not getting any sleep?”
King pauses. “Yeah-no. I am. I keep waking up in the night.”
I hum, “having some nice dreams, I bet?” Raising a brow banteringly at him, he blooms into a rose and splutters something along the lines of ‘no, no! No dreams, none!’ Teasing him is easy. “Don’t worry. I won’t go around revealing your dreams of Diane.” The look on his beetroot face is priceless.
.
.
.
Elaine and King’s parents promptly organise us into cars, some go with their mum, the others with their dad. The ride itself is full of giggles as I’m with Elaine and Diane, and we chatter like old ladies. King’s in the passengers seat, though I swear his gaze flickers to Diane more than once.
Exiting the car upon parking outside the huge building, my hair is now dry and floating on my back. The organised car park is moderately full, the weather an ordinary breeze, vehicles planted left and right in an orderly fashion, and the sound of enthusiastic yells from the construction is present. As a group, we venture towards the Bowling Alley. Elaine’s parents leave us, saying they’ll collect us a while later. Automatically, the doors slide open for entry, and we step into the cool, darkish atmosphere of a vast bowling arena, music blaring out from the speakers. Surrounding us are arcade games, buzzing and whirring while people roughly our age play and shout. Elaine leads us to the far end, where there's an alley full of smooth lanes and multi-coloured bowling balls.
At the furthest section, the setting is dim, and the lights dance around in vibrant colours. A few others are waiting for us, and I assume they’re the people King mentioned. Ban quickly notices us through the clamour, and waves while lounging on a red sofa. Helbram is also there, a companion of King’s, along with Gowther.
Next to Ban, however, is a familiar mop of blonde hair.
My feet stop moving. My heart thunders like a storm cloud in my ribcage.
The girls shuffle towards them, but Diane and Elaine notice and halt too, examining me with furrowed brows. Meliodas shuffles in his seat, peering over the edge of the sofa and his green, green eyes sparkle in the lights. It only makes me sweat.
“Ellie, you’re pale. Are you OK? Do you want water?”
My throat feels dry, the lights are so so bright. “Elaine, who’s the person over there? Next to Ban.”
“Oh- that’s Ban’s best friend. He’s moving to our school in a week or so. Why?”
Diane squints, following our line of vision, it’s difficult from this distance with the lights prancing everywhere. “What the hell are you looking at?”
“The guy next to Ban,” I hiss, “Short, blonde-”
“No way!” She explodes into laughter, doubling over and speaking between breaths, “isn’t that the guy you tripped over months ago? The one whose face got pillowed by your breasts and then you gave him a tenner?”
“Diane!” Elaine exclaims as a sort of scolding, and my face steadily transforms into a strawberry. “Don’t worry, Ellie. I bet he’s forgotten about it. It’s not as if he’d remember your face or anything.”
Except he had remembered. “Yeah, I bet he took a cold shower when he got home.”
“Diane!”
“Right,” she snorts, “breasts and money aside, I’m sure things will be fine and-”
“He’s milkshake dude,” I squeak, staring at the back of his head.
“Huh?”
I gulp. “You know, the hot guy I met who gave me his number and I told him I would add it but I haven’t and oh shit shit shit shit- HE’S LOOKING THIS WAY.”
“Just wave-”
“No!”
“Too late. He’s seen you.”
“I can’t look, I can’t look,” I crouch behind Diane so she covers my entire body. My hands are clammy and I rapidly wipe them on my sleeves, but the clamminess increases. A green light hovers over the area, followed by purple. I try to focus on them instead of the boy who’s not too long away.
“Elizabeth. You might wanna run.”
“In this cramped space? I’ll trip over!”
“Either trip over in this cramped space where milkshake dude won’t see you, or talk to the guy- which is probably the better option- because he’s coming over right now!”
“Maybe you should talk to-”
But instead of running between people, slipping past them and out of the various lights to a place where I can compose myself, I crawl. On the floor. The manky floor. Through legs, avoiding spilt drinks, and nudging my hood over my head so my hair isn’t noticeable, even though it keeps slipping out. Shoes smell grubby, but I hold my nose to find somewhere where there are fewer lights. Despite that, I have no sense of direction.
“Why the fuck are you on the floor?” Someone chuckles. I know the voice. Without waiting for a response, he pulls me up until I’m standing straight, though I still slouch. Ban raises a brow, “why the long face?” It turns out I’m blind when I crawl, and I have ended up right by the bowling alley section instead of further away, where a crowd of people are.
I check behind, where Meliodas is talking to Diane and Elaine. Perfect . “...I need to hide.”
“We playing hide and seek?” Ban asks, following my gaze, “he’s the seeker?”
“No-I just-” But I pause. An idea hits like lightning, crackling through my body. It’s far from the best, but it could mean I don’t need to talk to Meliodas and explain why I’m avoiding him because it’s pretty obvious. He has to be the friend that King mentioned Ban brought along. “Ban, could you do me a favour?”
The tall, spiky-haired guy cocks his head. “Could do. Depends. What do I get in return?”
“You’ll beat Meliodas at bowling. You want to beat your best friend, don’t you?”
He grins again, sharp, pearly whites glinting. “Won’t mind if I do~”
Yes.
“So Meliodas and I will swap teams. You tell him. Then we win.”
“Hold up. You’ve met him before?”
“No!” I say quickly. Too quickly. Luckily, there’s no time for Ban to comment because he peers over my shoulder, to where the three are returning. “Thanks very very much,” I whisper, walking past him. I have never been more grateful that he’s Elaine’s boyfriend.
Elizabeth. Why on earth are you dashing away from him? The voice inside my head questions, prodding at my brain. He is a wonderful boy.
Yes, he is a wonderful boy. I know that already.
Ignoring my conscience, I inspect the glowing team lists on the screens. As I thought, there are three teams, each fairly jumbled. My fingers tap away on the keypad, swapping my name with Meliodas'. The screen above my head, the one that illuminates whoever's turn it is and records the score, shines yellow while switching us.
Shuffling to the three allocated sofas, the group has thankfully finished with greetings. Elaine announces each team, showing us our names on the screens, the flecked bowling balls that we need to grab from the racks that are beside our seats, and the three lanes in front. Peeking around, everyone has a competitive glint in their eyes and are whispering tactics to each other. King is staring at Diane, which doesn’t surprise me, and I mentally note to tell her later. Ban views Elaine like a lovesick puppy; I have to conceal my snort.
Out of the sofas, mine is at the right. There’s one in between and one at the left. My eyes sweep over the players there, wondering how good they are at bowling.
Emeralds meet me. He is staring right at me. Hurriedly, I glance away, almost choking on my slushie.
Of course , Meliodas wanted to buy that jacket yesterday for Elaine! What a coincidence.
A person from each group prepares to bowl first, weighing the ball in their hands. Guila represents our team, and as her ball thuds onto the lane, it slides to either side but remains on the far right. Two skittles are knocked. Our score is the lowest.
After the four others in my team return, it is my turn. I place my slushie in my seat, crack my knuckles and stand. Guila nods in encouragement and I smile in return. Sauntering to the rack, I pick an orange ball, heavy in my hands. While placing my thumb in the bottom hole, and adjusting my fingers, I go to the third lane. Gerheade stands for team 2, while it is Jericho for team 1.
Scarlet lights dance across my face, making me look bloodthirsty. Or like an autumn leaf. However, my attention is solely on the lane and the skittles ahead.
When the screen above lights up, I swing the ball once for momentum, twice for luck, and then, transferring all my strength into it, I swing the ball onto the lane. It thumps on, rolling steadily across, and I hold my breath as it nears the ten pins at the end. The bowling ball smashes into the first one, subsequently toppling over the others.
STRIKE!
My team cheers behind me, Ban’s ‘whoop’ is the loudest. I grin, internally squealing. On the scoreboard, an X is marked under my name- a symbol for a strike. Pivoting, I jump back to the sofa in high spirits, hugging Elaine- our team just leapt to first place!
“Someone’s staring at you,” she whispers in my ear as we break the hug. Automatically, my head snaps to Meliodas, who is indeed staring at me with a smirk across his face.
I don’t know what he expected, but when I smirk back he looks surprised.
Game on.
.
.
.
Unfortunately, Meliodas is great at bowling. I can see it in the way he moves. His eyes are focused, his body prepared, his legs in a balanced stance and the muscles in his arms flex under his t-shirt. Or maybe he’s doing that on purpose because he knows I’m staring? He knows I am. There’s no chance he doesn’t.
(He was wearing a baggy hoodie. After his second turn, he removed it by pulling it over his head, then slid his gaze to me straight after, like he knew my eyes were burning into his biceps).
The good thing is, I’m not the only person staring.
As Elaine grabs a bowling ball, I slide next to Ban, poking his shoulder and ask, “You know Meliodas, right?”
He teasingly narrows his eyes at me. “So ya do know him.”
“I don’t know him, you know?”
“Yeah, alrigh'.” Ban leans back into the sofa. “Why ya askin’?”
“Uh-well… he doesn’t know Elaine, and King mentioned earlier that you brought a friend along...so I was more or less wondering why…”
He shrugs. “He’s moving to our school. Thought it’d be great if he met some people before he comes in~” Ban looks at the third sofa as my eyes widen, then he yells, “Meliodas! Over here!” And waves his hands to capture his attention.
Meliodas saunters over, through the people, runs a hand through messy blond hair, and sits on the other side of Ban, who places an arm around his shoulders. “Someone else you should meet,” he says, “though she somehow knows your name.” The boys face me. I am frozen.
“Elizabeth,” he greets, leaning forward, a smirk on his lips. “You’re an amazing bowler,
His eyes hold questions- why I’m avoiding him, why I didn’t message him the previous night after he gave me his number…
“Thanks, so are-”
“How’d ya know each other’s names when ya haven’t met before?” Ban quizzes, glazing between us two.
Maybe I should’ve seen it coming, I should’ve known from the way his mouth twitched, the way he shrugged ever so lightly.
“Oh, we have met. Elizabeth here fell for me.”
He did not-
Luckily, his team shouts his name at that moment because his turn is next. Meliodas stands, nodding at them, before furrowing his brows and looking at my trainers. I glance down aswell, wondering if there’s dirt or filth smudged over them, but all I notice is that my laces are undone. “What?”
To my surprise, Meliodas fondly shakes his head and bends down on one knee right in front of me. my breath catches as his fingers tie my laces up, gently and kindly and my insides are converting into mush. It's almost as if it's just us two here, but the music is clanging into my ears, and Ban is staring. Once he’s finished, his eyes find mine and, smirking, he mutters, “don’t want you falling for anyone else.”
My cheeks are glowing red when he leaves me and Ban.
He whistles. “
Damnn
. Dude has it bad for you~”
“Really?” I mutter
Snorting, he says, “wasn’t it obvious? Dunno what happened between you two, but he’s joining our school so there’ll be plenty of time for-”
The rest of Ban’s words don’t form in my head.
He is joining our school.
He is joining our school.
He is joining our school.
Is that good? Or bad? Should I avoid him? Or should we become friends? Does he want to be friends? Does he find me annoying? Weird? What if his ’interest’ in me disappears as soon as he finds someone else?
Urrrrrrrhghghgggh.
.
.
.
“Hey- Elizabeth! Come here!” Diane says, tugging my arm so I have no option but to follow her lead. She drags me to the drinks section, slinging an arm over my shoulder as she tilts her head to the guy in front. “This is Meliodas! I just wanted to-you know- introduce you to him.”
She is doing this (acting oblivious, making me talk to him) on purpose, I can tell from her teasing tone. If he wasn’t standing there, I would give her a death glare that would chill her bones.
I sigh, refusing to look into his eyes. “Hi, Meliodas. Nice seeing you again, though I talked to you around five minutes ago.” Her arm relaxes, and if I don’t act, then I know she’ll leave me alone with him. I don’t want that. I wrap an arm around her other shoulder, so we’re both linked, and she can’t leave me.
“You’ve talked to him?” She exclaims, sounding surprised.
“Not really. We haven’t had a proper conversation since yesterday,” Meliodas interjects, taking a sip from his cup.
“Really? You’ve met each other
before
?” For a second, I’m extremely grateful that Diane is pretending she doesn’t know this information. But my gratitude vanishes a moment later. “I already know that.”
Great.
“You...do?” He queries. “How?”
“Elizabeth told me, of course! And she would love to chat with you again. So byee!” Diane blurts, then swiftly removes her arm from me and bolts off.
Thanks very very much, Diane. What a lovely best friend.
“Elizabeth?” He says softly, invitingly. “Listen, I know I gave you my number, and you didn’t text me last night- and that’s fine! If I made you uncomfortable then I’m sorry,” he sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck. “I didn’t mean to.”
He- he thought he was making me uncomfortable?
A swarm of bees invade my stomach, buzzing and whizzing and I have no control. It’s not that he’s making me uncomfortable- God, no- but I’m scared. Terrified.
And I don’t specifically know why.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m great. I- I’ve gotta go to the toilet but I’ll talk to you soon!”
Get yourself together, Elizabeth.
.
.
.
Diane gave me a talk.
Elizabeth, you go up to him, you talk to him, and you be brave. Communication is key, just be honest.
Regardless, she has a point. I really should talk to him, make things clear. What am I scared of?
I’d rather not answer that question.
After bowling with a navy ball, and knocking all skittles down excluding one, I venture to the less crowded sofa. Although we’re supposed to remain in our teams, nobody gives a damn anymore. With a thundering heart, I plop myself down next to Meliodas.
He shuffles to directly look at me. I look at him. It’s scary when it’s just us two.
(Diane would kill me if I abandoned this chance).
“I’m scared.”
Wow. Way to go, Elizabeth.
His brows crease. “Are you scared of… me?”
“No, not you.”
He’s patient, not forcing me to speak, but gently coaxing me with a gentle smile on his face.
“You’re a very nice guy.”
“That I am.”
I whack his arm, he laughs, and it’s almost like yesterday when we were drinking our milkshakes. As much as I may want it to be like yesterday, this is different.
“I’m sorry for not adding your number and texting you last night.”
“No- you’re not obliged to do that!” He exclaims, “I gave you my number as an offer to meet up again. And-”
“But I would love to meet up with you again,” I say quietly. I know he heard it. “I’m not scared of you, I don’t think anybody could be.” Meliodas tilts his chin down, a sign for me to continue. My heart is pulsing as fast as the lights are blaring, as loud as the music is deafening. However, the words are stuck on my tongue. It’s difficult to form my muddled thoughts into coherent sentences. “I think it’s more… you getting to know me.”
“You don’t want me to get to know you? Shame, I would’ve loved to.”
“No! Not exactly- well- I…”
Suddenly, I feel exposed. His eyes are on mine, such beautiful, enchanting shades of green that sparkle with warmth and patience and a chance . And, I decide that maybe being exposed and uncovered is good. Maybe I’ll benefit from this.
“I’ve been in a relationship before,” I tell him like I’m recounting an ancient, forgotten fairytale. “Honestly he was a great guy, a sweet boyfriend, and he really, really deserves a lovely person to be with… the problem was me.”
“How?”
“I grew scared,” I admit, bowing my head and surprised that he can still hear me. “There’s so much pressure, Meliodas. To be the perfect girlfriend, to be the same person so he’d still like me. I had so many doubts.”
He gently nudges my arm, nearing me. “What about now? Are you still scared?”
I am exposed, open, and am handing that part of my soul over to him, to test if he’ll hold it as gently as I’m treating it.
“A little.”
Tingles erupt as his hand brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. Tenderly, his lips brush my cheek, my heart is fit to burst and I’m sure I’ve turned into a ripe tomato.
“I can wait until you’re ready, Elizabeth. I promise you that there’s no pressure, being yourself is the most important thing, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His lopsided grin is infectious as he swings an arm around my shoulder. “Besides, I’ll be seeing you a lot more at school! Better get used to having me around!”
The once rattling butterflies have now calmed down as I look at him. Properly look at him.
And as I lean to kiss his cheek (the flush that covers his face is adorable ), I know that I shouldn’t be scared, I shouldn’t fear anything. It’ll take time and patience, but Meliodas has completely enthralled me.
I feel comfortable, happy. And that's what matters.