Mess To Be Made

28

Spencer had been embarrassingly relentless.

Ever since we got back from Winter Break, it was like he had forgotten all about the fact that I hooked up with Blake after our date, or that he called me a stupid slut in my own driveway. Every day this week, he'd been extra persistent, however. It seemed like, for some reason, our conversation at Landon's party made him want to commit more.

Which was ironic. Because for me, that same party reminded me why commitment made me nauseas.

I was recovering from my encounter with Landon better than I expected. I didn't feel much different. Maybe I was already too numb. Or maybe it's because I already had practice.

Spencer was pushing my limits though. He was sending me good morning and goodnight texts. He was asking me out without ever really asking me out—like bringing up the different movies that were currently in theaters. Or if I was craving a certain type of food so he could recommend a restaurant.

"I do not, and will never, understand why you won't give him a chance," Lindsay said in response to my complaining about his most recent goodnight text while we ate lunch in Rachel's car.

"Seriously," Rachel concurred. "Girls would kill for a guy to do what Spencer does for you. I mean, shit. Liam doesn't even come close to Spencer."

"I thought you and Liam weren't boyfriend and girlfriend," I cooed.

She raised her eyebrows at me. "And you and Spencer are?"

Damn. That one backfired.

"What would it take?" Lindsay asked me seriously. I knew what she was asking. What would it take for me to actually go out with Spencer. To give him a real shot.

Therapy?

"I don't know," I answered honestly. The spinning in my mind hadn't stopped, and this wasn't helping. "He's too emotional."

Rachel threw her hands in the air while Lindsay shook her head. "That's the type of guy you need, Allie."

I scoffed and wrapped up the sandwich that had been laying in my lap. I'd only taken one bite out of it and the glimmer of an appetite I once had was long gone now.

"I need edgy emotional, not sappy emotional," I retorted.

I had to crack my knuckles to release the cringe in my muscles when I realized a certain broody, caring, smart, stubborn, intriguing, frustrating neighbor came to mind.

Rachel made a humming noise before swallowing her mouthful of salad and pointing at Lindsay. Her sarcasm was think as she said, "Look at this progress, Linds! Allie now has her first piece of criteria for what she considers boyfriend material."

Rachel then turned back to look at me and waggled her eyebrows. "Edgy."

I smacked the back of her brunette head and she yelped. "Shut up."

"Stop it," Lindsay scolded us both before looking at me directly. "Just think about it. He's a good guy, Al, and he really likes you."

"Yeah, he's a good guy," I murmured. "That's the fucking problem."

The funny thing was, it wasn't that I wanted a cliché bad boy, as most people would assume by this statement. It was simple facts—logic, that led me to this decision. He was too good for me. And I was the wrong answer for him.

Before either of my friends could respond, I grabbed my backpack and stepped out of Rachel's car, walking down Senior Row with a sway in my step as I headed towards the cafeteria with purpose. I pulled out my phone. A text from Spencer.