Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend Part 5

Her face twists in mock anger. "You're just jealous of my lingo. Don't make fun."

"I'm not. I think it's awesomesauce." I smirk.

She pulls a hand out from under her to punch me in the arm. "Shut up!"

Did I like that? Playful punches from Quynn make me feel like I'm about to barf all over her, but Hayley's punch feels like an achievement-like she's finally touchin' me because she wants to.

A friend punch. That must be it.

"So, did you need to stop by your house?"

"Just for a sec. I'd rather not lug this giant bag around."

"I'm not useless," I say, rolling my eyes toward her. "I can carry it for you."

She laughs. "Trying to make up for yesterday with the gas can, huh?"

"Uh..."

"I'm kidding! But really, I'll be super fast. You won't even have to get out of the car."

"All right." I go the speed limit this time through the neighborhood and pull into her driveway.

She bends to grab her bag, but I beat her to it, twisting the strap around my palm.

"You're not carryin' this anymore. You're goin' to break your back."

Her hand grasps mine, harder than I would've imagined from her. "It's okay, really. I'll be two seconds. You can stay here."

She attempts a smile, but I'm not buyin' it. Something's buggin' her, but I'm not sure if it's me or not. Should I give in? I mean, it's just a stupid bag. Why do I care if she takes it, or if I do?

"Please?" Her smile twitches as she watches me struggle with my brain.

"Uh, you sure?"

"Two seconds." She unwraps the strap from around my hand and shoulders it. She's out the door and into her house so quick, I have to blink a couple times and shake my head.

Fine. I try to be a nice guy, but girls just have to be stubborn about it. Then they complain chivalry is dead. Screw that.

I rub my hand where she clutched me, the skin full of sparks or somethin'. I shake it trying to get the feeling to go away.

Well, time to go over the checklist I guess. Not sure why I'm still considering talking about Quynn with someone else, let alone actually being pathetic enough to ask for tips on how to make her mine.

Ugh. It is pathetic. I should change my mind and tell Hayley to just forget it. We can go to the library and actually... study.

Blah.

I slam my head on the steering wheel, and the horn jolts me back into my seat. Whoops. Hopefully she didn't think I was tryin' to rush her or anything.

Someone peeks out behind the curtains in her front window as a whole bunch of m.u.f.fled dog barks shake the gla.s.s. It's gotta be her mom. She's older, wearin' loads of makeup-it's so bad I can see it from here-and she's got a look on her face like she's about to shoot me with a sniper rifle.

Yeah, I'm not lookin' at her anymore. The speck on my window is less judgmental. The barks get a little louder for a second, then they m.u.f.fle again. Before I realize what I'm doing, I get out of the car and open the pa.s.senger door like I'm some kind of chauffeur. Hayley turns bright red, but plops down with a small *thanks'.

At least she doesn't give me s.h.i.t about doing what guys should be doing.

"Okay," I say as I strap on my seat belt and turn the key. "I... uh..." Brain fart. I know I was planning on saying something, but can't think of it. I retrace my thought pattern as I look at Hayley, but nothing comes to me.

She laughs and flips through the preset stations, ignoring another one of my idiot moments. "No pop. I promise."

There's no conversation between her house and the library. She sings though, to every song that comes on. But I don't care *cause her voice is kind of hot. All right, not kind of. Really hot. And it's taking my mind off Quynn.

I've been to this library once before, with Lily-the make-out partner-and not a whole lot of studying went on. So I didn't really notice how the shelves were set up, or the study tables, or the computers, but I notice now. How can a library be so busy, but look empty at the same time? The computers are all taken, and there are several people sprawled out on couches and bean bag chairs. But there is no one searching the shelves for something to read.

I think they need to rename the place.

Hayley beelines it to the back of the Non-Fiction section, curling up on a couch near some floor to ceiling windows. It's dead to the world back here.

I sit, making sure I don't touch her, and my entire body freezes.

What am I doing?

"It's okay to be nervous." Hayley smiles and tucks her knees closer to her body and rests her chin on them. "It's hard to ask for help, especially when it comes to stuff like this."

"I'm tryin' to decide if I want to change my mind."

She nods. "Well, I have references." She chuckles, and I sort-of laugh.

"It's not that. This is awkward. Makes me feel like I'm twelve."

"When you used to ask your buddies to see if a girl liked you or not?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..." She prods her toes with her forefinger and clacks her teeth. I resist asking her what she's thinkin' about.

"Well, would it be easier for you if I just talked? I'll try not to ask any questions, but give you a run-down of what I think would work in your case."

It's like I'm hiring her to be a matchmaker.

Duh, Brody. That's exactly what you're doing.

I nod unable to come up with anything to say, since my brain is split in two. Quynn... definitely worth this humiliation. But still, it's not exactly how I want to go about it.

"I think the first thing we need to do is make her see you as a guy. Not her ex-boyfriend's brother, but as an available, single, guy."

Yeah, good luck with that.

My skepticism must be transparent *cause she shakes her head, and her voice lowers an octave. "It's not as hard as you think. In fact, easy steps will help."

"Example?"

"For one, you need to call her by her name. Girls love the way their name sounds in a guy's voice."

She's a freakin' genius. But I wonder if Quynn'll like the sound of her name bein' said in a shaky voice.

"Gotcha."

Hayley smiles and relaxes. Guess she's as nervous as I am with the conversation. Mental note: be enthusiastic about her suggestions.

"Speaking of names, you also can't refer to your mom as Mom. That makes it sound like she's her mom too, you know?"

"Good point." I don't want her to think of me as a little brother still. "Should I just use my mom's first name?"

"If you want. *My mom' works fine too."

I nod, mentally putting it on my checklist of *stuff I should not say'.

"And you might not want to mention the unspeakable." Her lips pull back as she smiles, revealing her white teeth. I'm surprised a spark doesn't twinkle like on those toothpaste commercials.

"Um... Unspeakable?"

She rolls her hand in the air, like she's waitin' for me to read her mind. When I don't say anything, she drops her hand and chuckles under her breath. "Your brother."

Duh. "Oh, right."

"Should I be writing this down for you?"

I give her a face and slouch back into the couch, finally feeling comfortable with the awkwardness. "No *hey you's', Mom, or Gabe," I say with an arrogant grin. I'm payin' attention.

"Ah! A good listener. Something every girl wants in a guy. You keep up the good work."

We laugh together, and I have the sudden urge to slide closer to her. I keep my head though... and my distance.

"How do you know all this stuff about my brother and Quynn?"

She shrugs. "I'm observant. It's not like it's a big secret that Gabe pumped it into another girl while he was going out with the hottest girl in our school. That stuff gets around, even though Gabe already graduated."

I nod, hopin' that my obsession isn't as well known as everythin' else about this.

"So, can I be embarra.s.singly honest?" she asks, c.o.c.king her head to the side and looking me straight in the eye.

"I hope you'll always be honest with me." Yeah, that was gag-worthy. Don't know what's wrong with me when I'm around her.

Her face turns pink and her eyes dart to the floor. "Well, I... uh, have like, noticed you for a while. Like how cool you are and c.r.a.p, so my one major tip would be to be yourself, and not get so nervous around her."

I know there was a helpful bit of advice somewhere in there, but all I can think about is how Hayley has *noticed' me. *For a while'. Huh.

"So, like what kind of cool c.r.a.p are you talkin' about?" I grin and throw my arm on the back of the couch. Am I flirting? Nah, just being friendly and curious. But her gaze at my position makes me reconsider the movement. I can't shift back right now without lookin' like a moron.

"Lots of stuff." She shrugs.

"Well..." I start, moving again so it doesn't look like I'm hitting on her. "If you want me to keep doin' that *cool' s.h.i.t, I kind of need to know what it is."

A tiny cringe goes across her face, and then it's gone. What did I just say? And why does she keep doing that? I couldn't have imagined it... three times now?

Then it hits me.

s.h.i.t.

I mean...

"Sorry, you don't like it when I swear, do you?"

Her face goes from pink to dark red so fast, you'd think she was on fire from the inside out. "Um..."

"It's okay. I'll try not to, if it bothers you."

She looks at me dumbfounded. "Really? You don't think I'm a major loser for that stuff buggin' me?"

Loser? h.e.l.l-heck-she had standards. There's nothing loserish about that.

"Not at all."

The shock disappears from her face and she half smiles. Her big ol' eyes glisten like I've just made her day.

My stomach twists.

"Well, I guess that answers your question," she says.

"What question?"

"That right there is what's so cool about you."

I raise an eyebrow. My brain must be running on slow motion today.

She giggles and pushes my leg-voluntarily touching me.

Stomach twists again.

"You accept people for who they are." She smiles wide again. "Quynn will not know what hit her."

Reason 6: You give the best hugs.

I don't think I've ever been so nervous and confident all at once. Hayley and I spent the entire afternoon going over the *simple' things I could do to help Quynn see me as something other than her adopted brother.