Sometimes

Chapter twenty-nine

Even though I’d resolved not to go after Sonny anymore, my relationship with Leanne meaning too much, I still couldn’t help wanting him.  The good sister part of me had shoved my feelings for him to my toes, but another part, my heart maybe, kept reminding my brain of all the reasons why I liked him.  His laugh.  His smile.  His eyes.  His swagger. 

    His voice travelled up to my room as he stepped into the hallway downstairs, dancing in my ears and making my pulse race.  My mind reminded me of the kiss we’d shared at The Rooster and doubts raised in my thoughts.  What was I supposed to do if he liked me instead of Leanne?  Was I really just going to let him go?

    A text sounded from my phone and I picked it up from beside me on the bed.  It was from Cassie, asking me if I wanted her to come over.  My spine tingled.  It was like she could feel my resistance fading.  If she were here, there would be no way she’d let me go downstairs.  It would hurt too much to see Leanne flirting with Sonny.  I hadn’t really noticed her doing it before but, on the bus ride home from Retro Shack yesterday, Cassie had told me that she’d had a feeling that Leanne liked Sonny.  I’d felt angry at first, huffing that she could have told me that to begin with.  It would have prevented me feeling and looking stupid.  Now though, I knew it wasn’t Cassie’s fault.  I stared at the screen for a moment before I text her back, telling her she shouldn’t come over.  She was back under house arrest anyway.  Her reply, quick as lightning, made me laugh; ‘I could always use the drainpipe.’  I couldn’t help laughing, even in my depressive mood, at the image of Cassie shimmying down a drainpipe.  I replied with a simple; that only works in films.

    I let her plan out her escape route in the next three texts, before I assured her I’d be fine.  She told me she was there if I needed her and I felt myself smile at how great she was.  If you scratched away at the surface, past the make-up and stubbornness, she was a really loyal friend. I dropped my phone onto the bed and set about trying to finish the book I’d been reading for the last few weeks.  It was about knights and dragons and all things magical. To be honest, it wasn’t my idea of a good book.  I much preferred fluffy romances where the guy saved the day, but Leanne had bought it for me for Christmas last year, so I saw it as my duty to read it.  Not that she’d ever ask me if I had.

    I was nearing the last couple of chapters, at the point where good was readying to fight evil, when I heard the sounds of someone at the bottom of the stairs.  I couldn’t make out the voice over the sounds of the rock song blaring out of the lounge speakers but I could hear footsteps on the stairs.  I set my book down beside me, listening out for who the footsteps belonged to.  I didn’t want it to be Leanne.  I’d been avoiding her since yesterday, only keeping up polite conversations so she didn’t realise anything was wrong.

    Part of me wanted it to be Aiden.  I hadn’t spoken to him since Friday and somehow I really wanted to tell him what Leanne had told me.  He’d know what to do, or at least that was what I kept telling myself.  It would only be when he told me I was doing the right thing by Leanne that reality would really hit. I squirmed on my bed as the squeaky floorboard outside my door sounded.  Anxiety flooded through me and I shut my eyes, trying to imagine telling Aiden my nightmare.

    The knock on my bedroom door was so quiet that I almost didn’t hear it over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.  I definitely heard it the second time though, followed by the voice that made my heart swoon.

    “Harriet?  You in there?”

My eyes sprang open at the sound of Sonny’s voice.  What was I supposed to do?  I couldn’t talk to him.  Not now I knew there was no way I could continue with my plans to try and get him to like me.  But what if it was too late?  What if he’d come up to tell me that he liked me like I liked him?  My heart thudded hard against my ribs.  My mouth opened wordlessly in time with the third knock.  I couldn’t talk to him.  Not without crying from pent up emotion.  Instead I held my breath and searched the room for a place to hide in case he dared open the door.  I wouldn’t fit under my bed and my wardrobe was too full of books to squeeze inside, as was the underneath of my desk.  Slowly and with painstaking concentration, I slid under the duvet.  I was going to have to pretend to be asleep.