unREASONable by Arya Matthews

Track 23

Alexandra

A sharp pain in my neck wakes me up. Hissing, I lift my head and realize I’m not in my bed. Soft light slants through the open blinds in the family room. It’s going to be a sunny day. Rubbing the back of my neck, I sit up.

Marshall issues an incoherent grumble and stretches out on the couch behind me. His dark hair splays against the light fabric, revealing his entire face for once. I can’t tear my eyes away from him: long, dark eyelashes, slightly parted lips, the fresh fuzz that covers his cheeks. Neither can I resist brushing his eyebrow with my fingertip. Marshall scrunches up his face and pulls a large section of the quilt under his chin. He’s impossibly cute. And he’s impossibly complicated.

It isn’t hard to tell we’re drawn to each other, but it’s also easy to see that he resists it. Why? We’re so comfortable in each other’s presence when no one else is around.

“Let’s go get breakfast somewhere,” he says with his eyes still closed.

“Is it a date then?”

Please, Marshall, say something solid. Yes or no, just don’t leave me hanging again. But there it is, in his eyes, in the tight line of his pursed lips—that conflict I can’t understand. He asks me to spend time with him, but something isn’t right.

He opens his eyes. “No. Just breakfast.”

I thought I wanted to hear him say no. Now I realize I’d rather be left hanging.

Marshall stands and stretches. I can’t help rising on my toes and kissing him on his rough cheek.

“Stop it,” Marshall grumbles with a small smile. “We’re just friends.”

“Right.” I step away, intending to go to my room and change, but Marshall catches my hand and holds me.

“I mean it.”

I work my fingers out of his grip. If this is how things are going to go, he can’t hold me. I won’t be able to think straight if he does. “You promised to not confuse me.”

He sighs and lets go of my hand. “I know I am…frustrating right now, but can I… I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just be honest.” That’s all I’ve ever wanted from him.

“Honest. Okay.” He swallows. “Please know I’m only trying to make sure I won’t hurt your feelings. And not hurt myself in the process. I like you, but, to be honest, I don’t want you to have any expectations of me. Can we have this”—he motions between us—“go at its speed, without any hopes or plans? We need to learn to be friends no matter what.”

I nod and push aside the part where he told me he liked me. I can’t shake off the feeling that even though he’s trying to be honest with me, the truth is still hidden in between the lines.

“Let’s just have fun then,” I say. We can be friends even after we kissed. I think.

“Still wanna get breakfast?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Marshall heads out. “See you in five.”

I hurry upstairs to change my clothes and to brush my teeth, and to avoid thinking of our conversation because if I do, I’ll cry. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help it. Marshall likes me, but not the way I want him to.

Done getting dressed and all, I pull out my goals list and add one more box to check to the bottom—be friends with Marshall. Out of dozens of lines marking songs to master and business ropes to learn, that last one feels the most impossible to achieve.