The story of two secret lovers

Chapter 3

Ella's point of view:

The bench is coated with a thin sheen of water, the wood soaked with the rainfall from a few hours ago, making the wood a dark brown. I hesitate for a moment, standing awkwardly by the bench as Olivia sits down immediately without reluctance. She glances up at me for a second, and her gaze seems to convince me in a strange way, so I sit next to her, the cold dampness seeping through my school skirt and chilling me, my stomach churning slightly - probably from the coldness of it all. But I glance over to her, and her cheeks are flushed and rosy from the cold, and her fingers curl slightly as she blows on them gently, the tips pink.

"Molly said you'd date me." She says with a laugh, avoiding my gaze slightly, her cheeks a little redder. I pause slightly, unsure on how to respond.
"Well, yeah. You're my best friend." Something strange flashes across her face - something akin to amusement or disappointment; I can't tell which.
"Of course! I love you too, Ella-Bella!" She wraps her arm around my shoulder suddenly, pulling me to her. I shriek slightly, trying to detangle myself.
"Agh! This is why I wouldn't date you, Olivia! Did you think this was going to help?" I say indignantly. She shrugs slightly, laughing as she reaches into her bag and retrieves a carrot. She takes a bite with a smile, her green eyes moving between me and the the grass in front. The movements enthrall me, somehow distracting me from the cold dampness spreading through me.

She glances over towards me, and our gazes lock, and for an insane moment I almost want to kiss her, just a little bit. Maybe push aside her glasses, trail my hand across her neck and through her hair. I mentally shake my head, looking away from her for a second, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. God, what is wrong with me? A voice rings through my head, overtaking all my thoughts. God, what is wrong with you? She's your best friend! She's never going to like you in that way! And you don't even like her anyway!

Screw you, Molly. You just had to complicate the friendship, place the circumstances in place, and make my brain make up feelings. You practically gaslighted me into liking her!

Maybe my inner turmoil showed on my face, as there's an undertone of confusion hidden in that cheerful expression that only years of closeness could uncover. And so I smile, trying to suppress my feelings and smile to myself as much to her, and convince the both of us that it's fine, that it doesn't mean anything, that the small distance between our hands is merely nothing but platonic affection.

And the dampness practically soaks through my tights, and I stand up, immediately regretting ever taking a seat on that bench in the first place. Her cheeks are still flushed with the cold, and she reaches out towards me, before moving her arm away slightly, a forlown expression overtaking her face.
"Hey, where are you going?" She asks, the usual amusement in her voice a little drier that normal, her tone flat and neutral.
"Oh, nowhere. I was just getting soaked." I think a second, staring at her and her pink hands. For a moment, I consider leaving, I almost consider making an excuse and exiting this awkward encounter. But for some reason, I can't bring myself too, and her hands look so cold. "Your hands look freezing, by the way."
"They are!" She says enthusiastically, jumping up to meet me.
"I wonder if they're colder than mine." I say outloud, although I don't really care for the answer. She smiles as I reach for her hand, gently holding the edges in my grasp. It's cold, sure, but the sensation is pleasant, and I clasp it slightly, unsure of what to do.

"Your hands are warm." She says a slight giggle, pulling me towards her playfully. "Like a radiator."
"Hey! Are you using me?" She finishes pulling me towards her and my feet slip slightly against the ground, the grass slick with the rain. I almost fall, but her grip on me is stronger than expected, and she pulls me back up until my face is right by hers.

And my breath short-circuits.

I look at her face, at the way she looks so generally joyful, and the way her black glasses frame her pretty green eyes. And in my mind, I move my hand towards her neck, and I-

She moves away, breaking the moment. I feel my cheeks flush with colour as hers do too, and she shuffles away slightly, looking towards the approaching friends. On the sidelines already are Lilly and Hazel from Miss Churchslope's science class, but they seem to be too busy discussing things about fictional characters to notice our encounter. I force myself to breathe steadily and regain my composure as they walk over, cheerful with laughter and jokes. I watch as Olivia walks over and follow too.

For some reason, I can't stop looking at her.