Johnny rolls his eyes and repositions in his seat.
The dynamic between the two of them is something like a father and son. It’s adorable to watch play out, especially when Bram manages to slightly embarrass Johnny. Another one of the many layers of Johnny Jones that not everyone gets to witness.
“I’m glad you got breakfast.” Johnny glances across the diner and then back at me. “I figured you’d think I was a weirdo for ordering it this late.”
“Are you kidding me? I could eat it for every meal.”
“Same.”
We lock eyes and my heart stutters at the intensity of it.
Bram plants our mugs on the table and fills each one with steaming coffee. He slides a cinnamon shaker between us and walks away without another word.
“So,” I finally say. “We should get to work.”
“Yeah, of course.” He snaps out of his trance.
“Have you doneanyof your assignments yet?” I bite my lip and wait for the answer I already know is coming.
“I—uh…no.”
“Okay. We can catch up. No big deal.” I exhale. “Are you behind in all of your classes?”
Johnny scratches his head and averts his gaze. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”
“I know. I understand. But I can’t help you if I don’t see the big picture.”
“Claire, Brown only put you up to tutoring me in English. You don’t have to worry about the rest.” He pauses. “I’m sort of a lost cause.”
Without thinking, I reach across the table and latch onto his hand. “Hey, don’t say that. We’ll figure it out.Allof it.”
It suddenly dawns on me that Johnny probably hasn’t ever had someone in his corner. Someone pulling a little bit of the heavy weight he carries around with him daily. Someone looking out for him and caring about his well-being.
He glances down at our interwoven fingers. “That’s not your burden to carry.”
“What are friends for?”
“After everything I’ve done to you?” Johnny shifts his attention back to me.
I raise my shoulders. “Meh. Water under the bridge.”
Sure, Johnny has been a royal jerk at times, but deep down, I think his intentions were always for the best. If anything, the last twenty-four hours have proven that there's good in him. He's got a hell of a lot more going on than most people our age, and without even knowing the whole story, I'd say he's handling things pretty well.
“But,” I continue, “if we’re going to do this, you have to work with me.”
Bram approaches with an armful of plates. “Here we go, kids.”
We break our moment to give Bram room to lay the food on the table. There's a lingering absence where Johnny's skin was touching mine, and I can't help but wonder if he feels that, too.
It's pretty obvious that Johnny doesn't actually hate me like I had once thought. But aside from being his friend, I'm not sure how he views me. Maybe I'm exaggerating the sparks between us—the natural pull to each other that we seem to have. It could be one-sided, and I may be imagining it entirely.
One thing is sure, though—I have never wanted to be a part of someone’s life so badly, no matter how big or small that role might be.