Oyin Fakoya

CHAPTER 4 Libby ❦ Her ex? Michael? My charming, musician crush is that Michael—the one who broke Barbara’s heart and dragged it through shards of glass? That Michael? I can’t believe it. I haven’t been able to look at Barbara since last night. How do I face her and tell her I made out with the guy who broke her heart? And worse still, how do I confess to her that I think I like him? That I’m drawn to him in ways I can’t explain? I had been so happy when he offered to help me find Barbara at the party, thinking I’d get a chance to show off my crush. I was going to parade him in front of her and say, “Look, I think this hot guy likes me.” But instead, I got hit with this bombshell. I hold my pillow over my face and scream into the foam. Not that anyone can hear me—the thunder outside is deafening, and Barbara’s gone to class. But she’ll be back in a few hours, and then she’ll want to know everything that happened. I can’t even give her the gist. If I so much as hint that I held hands with him, she could kill me—or hate me forever. Michael is supposedly her arch-nemesis, the one person she despises more than anyone else, and by association, so should I. But now, he’s the one person I can’t stop thinking about. I have to find a way to erase it all from my mind. I need to scrub off the memory of his touch, his smile, and his voice from my brain and pretend I never even met him. But how do I do that when every fiber of my being is screaming to remember and relive the moments we shared? A knock on the door jolts me out of my thoughts. Who could it be? The weather outside is changing, and Barbara can’t be back this early. Yet, whoever’s at the door knocks louder, more insistent with each strike. Damn it, damn it, damn it, I curse under my breath as I tiptoe to the door, grabbing a baseball bat on my way. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, before twisting the handle open. And when I see who it is, my heart leaps! I immediately push the door back, trying to shut it, but it’s too late. “Libby! Wait, Libby!” he says, managing to keep the door open with his strength. It’s Michael, and I don’t know what on earth he’s doing here. “Please, Libby,” he pleads, his voice softening. “Let me come in. I just need a chance to explain.” “Barbara isn’t home.” “I know. I came to see you,” he responds, and my heart skips a beat again. “Please, we need to talk about last night.” “There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, but the crack in my voice betrays me as I try to shut the door again. Michael doesn’t budge. “Please, Libby,” his eyes plead with me. “Just give me a chance. Just this once.” “Fine,” I give in. “Make it quick,” I say, opening the door for him to come in. “Thank you,” Michael says as he enters, straightening his wrinkled shirt before sitting on the chair opposite me. “Go on,” I say firmly, crossing my arms, trying to sound stern. “But before you start, know that I’ve been Barbara’s friend forever. I know how you broke her heart and shattered it into pieces.” Michael takes a deep breath, his eyes dropping momentarily before meeting mine again. “I didn’t really have feelings for her, Libby,” he says. “She liked me way more than I liked her, and I tried, but it just wasn’t right between us. I was a dick, and I regret how I acted.” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Of course, you’ll try to justify your actions. What was I even expecting?” “Look, Libby,” he says softly. “I know you’ll have reservations, and you’re right to. But what happened with Barbara happened years ago, and yesterday…” “Nothing happened yesterday,” I cut him off. “A lot happened yesterday, Libby,” he says. “I felt a connection with you, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we left. It was different, and I know you felt it too.” I try to look away, but I know he’s telling the truth, and I just can’t. “I…” I open my mouth to deny it. To tell him that he’s wrong and call him crazy, but the words stay stuck in my throat. “Tell me, Libby,” he says, his blue eyes piercing into mine. “Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t feel it too.” “Michael…” I call his name just as the thunder strikes again, and he flinches, his phone dropping from his hands onto the rug with a soft thud. “Are you okay?” I ask, scanning his face with my eyes. He nods, smiling slightly to answer my question, but I notice the slight tremor in his hands as he bends to pick up his phone. I notice the way his eyes flicker, the way his jaw clenches, but I choose to just carry on with my sentence. “I can be honest, but it won’t change anything, Michael,” I say, looking away from him and glancing out the window instead. The rain is starting to drizzle, the droplets sliding down the pane like tears. “I like you, Libby,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “I’d like to explore a relationship with you, to see where this connection between us goes. And I don’t want to cut things off with you because of something that happened in the past.” He pauses. “I know I hurt Barbara, and I’m truly sorry for that. But I care about you, Libby.” I sigh. My heart longs to hold him and hug him, but my brain says no. “I’m sorry,” I say to him, meaning it sincerely. “Please leave before the rain gets heavier.” Michael nods. The sparkle in his eyes is gone now, and his face is somber. “Okay,” he resigns, and as I walk him to the door, I notice the map of sweat on his shirt. The room is cool, and it’s odd that he’s sweating this much. “Are you okay?” I ask him, and he nods yes. “Your shirt—” I start to say, but another thunder rumble cuts me off, making me jump. Michael shudders, his body trembling, as he grabs onto the door handle for support. “Wait,” I say, my voice rising with worry as I quickly put my arm around him, trying to steady him and guide him to the couch. It’s a heavy downpour outside now. The storm has started earlier than predicted, and the skies that were clear just a few minutes ago are now dark with heavy clouds. I quickly shut all the windows, trying to block out the noise and the chill, and grab a blanket and a pair of earmuffs. He’s scared of thunderstorms. I remember now from Barbara’s random ramblings as I hand him the earmuffs. I get on the couch beside him and hold his hands. “Michael, breathe with me,” I say, and we take a series of deep breaths together. I can feel his hands trembling in mine, but as we breathe together, I can sense his body starting to relax, his grip on my hands slowly loosening. We stay this way for close to an hour, and I realize he is asleep in my arms. The storm has passed. Yet, I’m holding him, staring at his full eyelashes and how peaceful he looks, unwilling to wake him up because I know he’ll have to leave. I sigh. The feelings between us might be more than mere attraction after all. I fear that it is something deeper. Something stronger than I thought, beyond physical desires. “Michael, I…” I start to say softly, quietly, careful not to wake him up. “I really like you, too. I’ve never felt this way before,” the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. And as soon as I say them, his eyelashes flutter open. He’s awake. He heard what I said. My heart skips a beat as I realize that I’ve just opened up to him. I’ve given him a glimpse into my true feelings. And now, there’s no going back.