Page 25 of Strange Love

Corey sits at his desk, his pencil tapping rhythmically against the wooden surface. Though he appears nonchalant, I can sense his irritation at being forced to spend his afternoon here.

“Thanks,” I mutter weakly as I sit in front of him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sinking feeling in my stomach.

He gives me a confused look as the dark brown strands of hair fall over his forehead.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “You were right.”

“This whole thing is ridiculous,” I say through gritted teeth.

The scent of his cologne fills my senses as he leans closer to me. It smells warm and masculine as it draws me in. “I like your feisty side,” he says, and my heart rate skyrockets at his proximity. But then, his tone turns more serious. “I like your shy side too.”

I try to maintain my composure, but he surprises me with his observations. “You act like you know me,” I say, trying to brush off his insight into my thoughts.

“I know you think the grass is greener anywhere but where you are,” he continues. “You think things would be easier if you were someone else. Maybe someone with a different past?”

His words strike a chord within me, and I can’t help but feel exposed in front of him. But before I can respond, he gestures around us at the mostly empty room. “But none of this will matter in the long run,” he says assuredly. “What these people think of you will be irrelevant.”

I shift in my seat. “It may not matter to you, but it matters to me right now,” I admit. “Every day feels like fighting not to be pulled under quicksand. I’m barely keeping my head above it. It’s like I can barely breathe. I’m so tired of it. I want things to be easier.”

His warm brown eyes meet mine sympathetically, “Do you really think your life would change if suddenly everyone adored you?”

I push a few strands of hair behind my ear and consider his question carefully. “I don’t know if my life would change, but it might be bearable if I wasn’t constantly gawked at like a circus freak,” I admit. “I hear all the whispers and stifled laughs.” Sighing, I decide to share more of my thoughts on the subject. “I thought I could just blend in, you know? Maybe people would just accept me and leave me alone. But that’s not happening. So maybe if I somehow changed their perception of me, I could finish high school in peace. It’s not about popularity. It’s about being normal.”

He sighs and turns to face me fully, leaning against his desk with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Let’s test it out,” he says, a grin spreading across his face.

Confusion clouds my mind as I furrow my brow, “Test out what?”

“If being popular, or ‘normal,’ as you put it, makes you happier,” he replies slyly. “Let’s see if it makes things easier for you. Makes things more bearable.”

My heart starts racing at thinking about what he could have in mind. “How?”

“Simple,” he says, “You and I go out.”

My jaw drops in shock and disbelief. “What? Why?”

“Because appearances matter, right?” he responds with a shrug. “We’ll see if having me by your side changes anything.”

I shake my head, trying to dismiss the idea. “That’s a horrible idea, Corey Delacour,” I mutter while being met with a rush of excitement mixed with fear.

Corey’s deep laughter echoes through the room, making me feel both comforted and nervous. “Why do you use my full name?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement as the corners crinkle from his broad smile.

“I don’t,” I protest, but then laugh as I realize that I always call him by both his names. He eyes me expectantly, his perfectly arched eyebrow raising in question. I feel myself blushing and cover my face with my hands. “Okay, fine, I do.” I giggle. “I don’t know why.”

Leaning closer to me, Corey whispers, “Come on, let’s do it.”

“Why would you want to put yourself in a position to be ridiculed?” I protest.

Corey shrugs. “I could care less. That’s what I’m telling you. It won’t matter, and it won’t make your life magically better,” he explains calmly, “but maybe you need to see that for yourself.”

Raising an eyebrow, I remain skeptical, “Are you bored? Is that it?”

With another casual shrug, he answers, “Just biding my time until I can get out of here and play hockey. Why not run a little experiment?”

My stomach churns at the thought of him using me as some test subject. “Don’t you avoid girlfriends?” I blurt out without thinking.

An exasperated sigh escapes Corey’s lips. “Checking up on me, Ivy Owens?” he asks teasingly.

Rolling my eyes, I defensively cross my arms over my chest. “Hardly. It’s common knowledge around here.”