Before You Leave

03. You Have To

"I don't do friends," I tell Gideon. After school he came back to our apartment quickly and I was on the couch. He was already pressuring my about this morning with Ms. Werrington.

"You have to. What's the harm in having some?" He asks. "You have to have them anyway."

I sigh. "I don't want to like this place," I say. "And I don't want to like these people. You're all rude, stuck up, and rich."

"You do realize that you're rude and stuck up right?" He asks, sitting in the chair next to the couch I'm sitting on.

I glare at him. "I am not."

"You so are," he says, his eyebrows raising.
I roll my eyes. "Is there anyone you wouldn't mind being friends with?" He asks.

I sigh, taking a moment to consider. I play with my hands in my lap. I end up changing the subject to, "So why do you not pay attention to your girlfriend?" I ask him.

He snorts at the question. "I do—"

"Please, in English she was trying to kiss you and you turned, raised your hand and said the answer so she could only get your cheek or nothing at all," I deadpan.

"I just... have a problem with public affection," he says, his cheeks turning pink.

"I think you just have a problem with your girlfriend," I say, raising my eyebrows.

He groans. "She's so nice, like all the time. She won't ever stop being nice."

"What's wrong with nice?" I ask, almost laughing.

"I want a girl who can fight back. One who doesn't always just take what you say and go with it."

"You don't want her then," I tell him, but I think it sounds like a question. "Why do you date her then?"

"Hey, how did we get on this topic? We're discussing clubs. You're going to join one, and maybe you could like it."

I groan, but hold out my hand. He hands over his laptop and sinks himself into the couch cushion beside me.

I start scrolling on the school'a website.

"Chess club?" He reads off.

I look sideways at him, standing up and sliding the computer on his lap. "You're kidding me right?"

He rolls his eyes, and keeps reading down the list. "Magic club?"

"You're shitting me right now," I say, glaring at him.

He sighs, moving down on the list. "Improv club."

"Nope."

"Foreign Cooking Club."

"I'll burn down this kitchen right now if you give me something complicated to bake."

"Dumbledore's Army."

"That's so not a club," I say, my eyebrows raising. I'm laughing for the first time in a while.

He nods, wincing. "It is. My friend Evan's president of that mess."

"Photography club," I say. "Is that a thing?"

He nods. "Yeah, are you interested?"

"No, but if you're making me do this, I might as well enjoy it..," I admit.

"Great. Tomorrow we will find you a lunch table to sit at."

I scoff. "I have a lunch table—"

"With people in it?" He asks.