I mean…
So he does remember.
Not only that, he also remembers my love for words. And gosh, my heart is pounding. My veins are buzzing and there’s a fluttering in my tummy.
“You’re a jerk,” I say, for making me think that he didn’t remember it.
His smile widens as he says, “Your turn.”
“At what?”
“Say my name.”
The crazy pounding of my heart gets crazier as I reply, “Reign.” His eyes turn even more glow-y and I swallow before continuing, “Also known as to rule and govern. Or be in power or dominate.”
“Dominate.”
“Yes.”
“I do like the sound of that,” he says, still watching me with the same intensity.
“You’re back,” I say then.
“What?”
“From Connecticut,” I continue. “Your school.”
He chooses to remain silent at this.
Self-conscious, I shift on my feet. “Are you, uh, back for your brother’s party?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Then, “Well, it’s just that you don’t come home very often and…”
“And what?”
“I was just wondering why that is and just… Yeah.”
“I think you know, don’t you?”
“I know what?”
“Why I don’t come back,” he narrows his eyes as if gauging me, “often.”
I do.
I do know that.
It’s because of his behavior. Rumors have it that his parents don’t want him here. They love him but he’s a handful, and so it’s best for everyone involved if he stays away. So it’s very rare for him to visit his home, and despite all the rumors and despite not knowing him all that well, my heart clenches for him. And I can’t help but say, “You should.”
“What?”
“This is your home.” I swallow. “You should come back and visit. Often.”
Again he maintains his silence, staring at me. And I hate that I brought this up.
All I wanted to do was talk to him, but I’ve unintentionally broached a topic that obviously is a sore spot for him.