Solving for Ex

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

nothing could be more obliging than your manner

Vincent arrived at exactly one minute before six o’clock. I knew because I was watching our driveway through my bedroom window, holding the curtain back from the edge just a bit. And Vincent, apparently, liked to do things in style. Instead of his usual spotless Porsche, he’d hired a freaking limo.

He stepped out and leaned against the shining black side of the car. He looked perfect, as usual. He turned around and leaned over, using the tinted windows outside as a mirror, and ran his fingers along the fringe of curls at his forehead. He took the chewing gum out of his mouth and carefully wrapped it in a paper, which he stuffed in the trash can hanging on the back of the passenger’s seat. Then he looked at his watch, nodded, picked something up off the passenger’s seat, and walked up the driveway.

My stomach twisted. I pulled away from the window, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths. I was going to a dance. With a guy. Who was not Brendan.

I rolled my eyes. That sounded ridiculous even to me. Brendan was Brendan. Just a guy. Just a stupid guy, who I knew liked me—or used to. Or did he really think we were just best friends? He was just Brendan. Just one guy.

The doorbell sounded, sharp and short, and my feet carried me to the stair way more excitedly than I would have thought.

Vincent stood in the foyer holding a single pink rose. And looking like a freaking supermodel. The shirt that would have been comfortably baggy on Brendan closely hugged his muscled, six-foot frame. Underneath the shirt was a perfectly pressed orange oxford collared shirt, which perfectly matched the color of the font in the tee.

I smelled the strong mint of the gum he’d been chewing just beneath the scent of his cologne—musky, woodsy, and strong. He smelled like guy, one who had tried to get ready for a nice date. The only thing Brendan ever smelled like was dryer sheets and sometimes, if he’d just gotten out of the shower, that green soap he used. And vanilla. He always smelled a little like vanilla. Warm and comforting and familiar and…home.

And I was going to Sadie with Vincent. Vincent. Who had hired a limo, and managed to look gorgeous even in a stupid T-shirt.

The flecks in his eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked up from his conversation with Aunt Kristin to me. “Wow, Ashley. You look great.”

“Easy for you to say,” I joked. “You’re wearing the same thing.”

He laughed, and even then, those damn eyes seemed to bore a hole into me. He was looking at me like he’d been waiting to see me for years. Like he was amazed.

“You brought me flowers?” I asked. “Like the limo wasn’t enough?” Oh, shit. Now he’d know I was watching for him out the window.

A split second after I realized it, a look of happiness-bordering-on glee lit up his face. He shrugged, though he still didn’t do too much to hide his obvious pleasure. “You don’t like it?”

“No, uh…I mean, it’s nice. It wasn’t necessary…” I trailed off.

“I just want you to feel special. It’s not a crime, is it?”

“Special” hadn’t been part of any vocabulary I had used when thinking about myself since…ever, really.  The cutest boy in school was standing here, in our foyer, pulling out all the stops for me and a stupid dance.

Nobody else had ever made that kind of effort. Definitely not Brendan, and there was no reason to think that he ever would. I just needed to let it go. Have fun. I was a normal high school kid going to a normal high school dance. There was no reason for all this drama and angst.