18

WHEN I FINALLY pull into Lila's driveway, I can see that her hair has dried.

After the kitchen disaster, Grace had ran down the stairs and and ate what was left of the eggs, leaving Lila to bike back home and wash out her hair.

I had offered to drive, but she refused. And it's pretty hard arguing with a girl that's as stubborn as her.

Once she had left, Grace turned to me and asked what had happened, and by the time I was finished, she had abandoned her eggs to laugh.

I smile at the fond remembrance. There aren't many of them in my life, and years ago I probably thought there never would be, so it's...different, not living in a constant state of disappointment.

Though with Lila, it's a good kind of different. And I hope it always will be.

The more I grow custom to her presence, the bigger hole I know I'm digging for myself. I've always had trouble detaching myself from people. But I'm hoping I won't have to.

"You took long on purpose, didn't you?" That's the first thing Lila says when she opens the car door and slides into her seat.

Her seat. When did it become hers?

I clear my throat. "Hm," I shift the gear into drive. "I feel like this is a trick question."

"And I feel like you're an asshole," she smiles tightly at me.

I don't even flinch, the amount of times she's called me an asshole is more to count than on two hands.

"Well, I feel like you're a bit over dramatic," I retort, giving her a look.

"I am over dramatic," she says casually. "That wasn't very original, Rhodes," she narrows her eyes.

"Who said anything about originality, Matthews?"

She sighs, "You're impossible."

"I thought I was horrible?"

"I've changed my mind," she turns to me. "You're both."

I try and fail to hide my grin.

"Only you would smile after I've called you horrible," Lila mutters, crossing her hands absentmindedly.

I shrug. "I think it adds a bit of flare."

She wrinkles her nose. "Of course you do."

I drum my fingers against the steering wheel as I make a left to the small market center.

I wasn't joking when I told Lila I suck at giving presents. I cant remember a single person that genuinely liked my gifts.

I don't blame them, though. I don't think I would like my gifts either.

Two Christmases ago, I gave Lucas a bunch of candy that turned out to have peanut butter in them.

He's deathly allergic to peanuts. So it wasn't exactly fun when they were rushing him to ER.

"Oh my God," Lila suddenly whispers, once we've passed the familiar contender stands. "They have a pretzel truck?"

My brows furrow, "They've had that truck for a while now."

Her head whipped around so fast I was surprised when I didn't hear a crack, "What?" She says. "I never saw it!"

I chuckle, "It's probably because your head is always in a romance novel."

Her face flattens, "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

I shaky my head, smirking. "Not until you read the book I got you."

She bites the inside of her cheek, "I am not reading The Sea Monster's Treasure, Chase."

"Why not? I thought it looked pretty good," I shrug.

"Then you read it," she rolls her eyes. "I prefer my fictional men to be a brunette rather than have seaweed hair, for fuck's sake," she huffs.

"No one's fucking."

She throws herself onto the seat, "I hate you." she says as I let out a laugh.

"Alright," I commend. "I'm trying to make it through this without you threatening one of my body parts, so I'll leave you alone," she sighs. "For now."

She glares again. Is it bad I like her glare?

Without further conversation, we both make it out of the car and into the mall. Lila's braid swinging behind her back as she struggles to keep up with me.

"Jesus," she breathes. "Slow down. Not all of us are giants."

I crane my neck up to look over the crowds. "I'm not a giant, you're just an ant."

I don't see her eye roll, but I can practically feel it. "I'll have you know I'm 5'5–and a half." She emphasizes the last part.

I look back to her, completely disregarding her futile attempts to make herself seems taller,  "Lila?"

"Yeah?" she says, though her voice is kind of muffled over the volume of bustling people.

"Can I hold your hand?"

Her eyes widen a fraction, but she doesn't hesitate. "Okay."

Without further explanation, I grab hold of her hand and haul her through the mass of people, waiting for her to give me the nod of where to go.

I'm still holding her hand when she points to a small boutique, "Over there," she whisper-yells.

My hand practically swallows hers as I run my thumb across her knuckles—something I find myself doing a lot when we're in this predicament—guiding us toward the store entrance.

"It's like a parade out there," she mutters mainly to herself. Then she looks down at our joint hands and blushes before quickly snatching hers back.

I clear my throat, trying not to think about the loss of warmth.

Instead, I spin around to take in the small boutique, but nothing looks familiar. And it should, considering Flynnell only has one market center.

"It's pretty, right?" Lila says animatedly from behind me.

I shrug a shoulder, "I've seen better."

She rolls her eyes for the hundredth time. "Like what?"

You, I almost say.

I bite my tongue. "I own a mirror, you know."

She lets out a deep breath, "Forget I asked."

I smile to myself as I take in the random objects covering the check-out counter and walls. The entire place is filled with random items.

I grab a pair of green sunglasses off the counter top and put them on, turning to Lila. "Well? How do I look?"

She tilts her head, "You look like a grandma."

"Fitting for you then," I say, smirking.

She rolls her eyes, though steals the sunglasses off my face and places it on herself. Sure enough, it actually brings out a the green flecks in her otherwise hazel eyes.

"You should get them," I instantly say.

She casts me a look, "We're here for a birthday present, let's not get too distracted," she sets them back down in their place. "C'mon, let's check out the back."

I follow her with my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jacket, having to duck my head when it almost comes in contact with a chandelier, hanging so low, I'm sure it's a safety hazard.

I'm still trying to avoid the chandelier when a clerk comes up to us.

Her eyes narrow into slits and when she speaks it sounds like her car has broken down but she's trying to stay positiv. "Can I help you?"

I step forward, "Yes, actually. We're looking for a birthday present—"

"For me!" Lila suddenly interjects. "We're looking for a birthday present for me," she laughs, throwing an arm around my waist. "My boyfriend," she looks up at me, squeezing my waist. "was going to surprise me. But I figured it out, so here we are!" She gives another fake laugh.

The clerk's demeanor suddenly shifts, a bright smile taking over her face. "Oh! How romantic!" she gushes.

Lila nods along, and when the clerk looks away for a moment, I mouth to her: What are you doing?

She shakes her head, follow my lead.

I hold back a breath as the clerk suddenly tells us, "I have just the thing!" and beckons us forward.

The clerk shows us a multitude of items that all look pretty fantastic to me, but Lila shakes her head at every single one.

And when she says no to the carefully inscripted masquerade mask, my mouth props open.

"What?" I say shocked. "That was a very fine piece of fabric."

She snorts, "How many times a year do you wear a masquerade mask, Chase?"

I smirk. "Well that depends on who you ask."

Her face hardens. "You're disgusting."

"I though I was impossible and horrible?"

She sighs, "One day, I'm going to make a list of everything you are—don't worry."

I lean closer, smiling. "I wasn't worried."

She pulls a face, "You...you should be."

"Why is that, Matthews?" I move another inch closer.

"Because—"

"Alright!" the clerk suddenly steps back behind the counter and claps her hands, and I break away from Lila, "We just got this in," she holds up a necklace with a silver chain and large crystal.

Lila's eyes go wide and she nods, "It's perfect."

"This is perfect?" I whisper, it's just a necklace.

She casts me a dirty look, then turns back to the clerk. "We'll take it."

The clerk grins brightly, "It's our only one! You're just in luck. And it's half-off, for the birthday girl," she winks towards Lila.

My mouth drops open, and when I look down at Lila she's smiling with a told you so look on her face.

Once we've departed from the store, I say, "That was fucking brilliant."

Lila grins, "I picked up the trick two years ago when one of the sweaters I wanted was way overpriced. Worked like a charm."

The air has seemed to grow colder while we were in there but my attention is fixed solely on her. "So Lila Matthews is a deceptive shopper?"

She shrugs, "We all have our quirks."

I scoff, "I don't."

She raises a brow, "You sure about that?" She says in a British accent.

My brows pull down. "Hey! I told you that in confidence."

Her head falls back as she laughs, and I watch with my own smile. "I think you're the one who needs a dictionary..." she trails off as her eyes latch onto something over my shoulder.

I look in that direction to see the pretzel truck right by a herd of people, who seem to all be waiting in line.

I look back to her, and she looks back to me.

"What?" I say.

She stares harder.

I roll my eyes, letting out an amused laugh, "Do you want a pretzel, Matthews?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she says, lightly touching her chest. Then her hands wrap around my arm and she's pulling me forward. "C'mon, we can probably lie to them too!"

A passerby gives her a weird look and I glare hard at him.

Trying to catch my breath, I pull on her hand. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," I shout at her.

She doesn't even glance my way. "Food is the way to my heart!" She yells back.

I smile softly, and once we've stopped right at the end of the line, I turn to her once more.

"So, food, romance novels, and studying is what I'm getting at here—and I think that makes you a certified nerd, Matthews." I tease, pulling on her braid.

"First of all," she holds up a finger, swinging her hair back. "I'm not a nerd, you're just dumb. Second," another finger goes up "what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I wouldn't be asking if it were," she mutters.

"I'm making a list: The Only Things Ever to Make Lila Matthews Smile." I spread my hands in a dramatic fashion.

Lila laughs, "That's a horrible title."

I shrug, "It's a work in progress. Besides, if you get to make a list—I get to make one too."

Her eyes narrow, "Alright. Deal," she juts out her hand and I take it into mine, allowing my palm to slide over hers.

Her hand is warm, a contrast to my normally cold ones.

"Deal," I respond. Then, "I think we have a problem with making these deals. What if we don't complete one of them?"

"Then we make another," she informs me, shrugging a shoulder.

By the time we get our pretzels, the sun has gone down and the weather is even colder. We should be getting to Lucas's house soon. The party will start in about an hour.

I'd made sure to call my neighbor, Mrs. Limbrey, to babysit Maya and Grace, and thankfully she agreed.

She's been helping me with them for years now. And sometimes I wish she could have been my mother rather than my actual one.

But that causes an insane amount of pressure I can't describe within my chest, and I have to stop before I can think back too far. To when things weren't awful.

Lila eats the last bite of her pretzel, pulling me from my thoughts. "Do you think anyone is catching onto us?"

My head whips to the side to face her. We're sitting silently on a park bench that was frozen over with ice not too long ago, just enjoying the city lights. Her question comes out of nowhere.

"I don't think so," I say, crumpling my wrapper. "Why?"

She shrugs, "It's just, what if someone does find out—like you said. What happens then?"

"We bury their body in the woods and never look back," I shrug, waggling my brows.

Lila laughs, her cheeks tinting pink from the cold. "I'm serious," she whacks my arm.

I catch it just before she can retract it, and I gently run my fingers over her palm, setting it on the bench.

She's suddenly looking at me like I've solved the hardest math problem, and so I clear my throat, trying to draw her attention away.

"I don't know, Matthews," I say. "I try not to think that far ahead."

She tilts her head. "You're not afraid?"

"What's there to fear?" But even as I say it, I know it's not true. I don't know what would happen if someone found out this was all a farce.

But I do know what would happen if she found out even a little bit of it isn't.

Lila sighs, her breath fanning out in front of her. "I like that. You're always looking at the silver lining."

I fake a gasp, turning back to her. "The grump is being positive?"

She rolls her eyes, "I can take it back."

"Don't you dare."

Her expression takes on one of contentment. "But I do like it. I know I'm not nearly as easygoing as I wish I were, so thanks, I guess."

I'm confused now. "For what?"

"For still being my friend," she gives me a small smile.

I shake my head, irritated. "Never thank me for that, Lila."

She scoffs, "Why?"

"Because being your friend isn't a task. As shocking as it might seem, I like your eye rolls and painful glares," I smile. "I have enough silver lining to go around." I bump my shoulder with hers. "Maybe I'll make you a necklace out of it."

Her mouth props open, an earnest look on her face, but she closes it quickly. After a moment, she whispers, "I wish I had something to give you back."

"I don't need anything, Matthews. Just you."

And God, I wish she knew how much it's true.