Landry in Like by Krysten Lindsay Hager Page B

laughed. “And would you still like me?”
    â€œYes, and I wouldn’t even be part of the angry mob setting your yard on fire. I’d try to stop them.”
    â€œYou’d risk your life to protect my grass from an imaginary mob. You’re the best girlfriend ever,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders. I thought I would die from happiness.
    â€œBut, seriously, even if you weren’t a good basketball player, it wouldn’t matter.”
    â€œSo you’d honestly still like me?” he asked.
    I nodded.
    â€œOkay, why?”
    My face got warm and I could tell my cheeks were getting flushed. Oh how embarrassing. Even my stupid skin betrayed me and made me look awkward.
    â€œWell, you know… because…” I said stammering.
    â€œNot an answer. Why?”
    â€œI just…”
    â€œStill not an answer,” he said. His face was close to mine now, and I was finding it difficult to breathe and think at the same time.
    I cleared my throat. “Because you’re so sweet and nice and you have the best—” Eyes, hair, smile, tush. “—personality.”
    â€œSo not because I’m so good-looking, huh?” he said. “I’m just kidding.”
    His face was not even two inches away from mine. I felt like I was going to pass out. And then this little thought crept up on me. Would he still like me if I weren’t a model? And how did I ask him that? How would I even word it? If I said, “Would you still like me if I hadn’t been in that competition?” He’d say he didn’t know about that before he asked me for my email address or he might think I was stuck up or say, “You’re not that cute,” or something. But now I wanted to know.
    â€œDo you ever worry about that stuff?” he asked.
    I swallowed. “What do you mean?”
    â€œIf people only like you because you’re some model or, you know, cute or whatever.”
    â€œModeling hasn’t exactly made me popular with the girls at school. I think more people hold it against me than anything else. No one is trying to get close to me because of that… at least that I can tell,” I said. I mean, how did I say other than Kyle Eiton and possibly himself?
    â€œPeople hold it against you? Like jealousy or what?”
    I told him I wasn’t sure what their deal was.
    â€œDo guys try to talk to you because of it?” he asked.
    I wanted to say, “You tell me,” but I just shrugged.
    â€œSo they do.”
    â€œMaybe one or so,” I said.
    â€œI didn’t even know about your modeling stuff when I first was getting to know you,” he said.
    Well, that was true. But what about my appearance? Did that matter to him?
    â€œWhy did you talk to me in the first place?” I asked.
    â€œYou seemed sweet. You were so quiet when we first met, but there was something about you. When Devon was flirting with this one guy right in front of another guy, who it was so obvious he was into her, you got this look on your face. I could tell you felt bad for the other guy who liked her. Most of the girls I meet trash the guys who dare to go up to them. It’s like you work up the courage to talk to a girl and then right in front of her friends she tears you down — so embarrassing.”
    â€œI bet you’ve never gotten shot down in your life,” I said.
    â€œWell, once or so, but I see it happen all the time. Girls can be so mean.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Tell me about it.”
    He laughed. “You weren’t like that though. You were shy that first time we went to Ignatowski’s, but as you got to know me, you opened up more and I liked talking to you a lot.”
    â€œI liked talking to you, too. I thought you’d be more, I dunno, intimidating or something.”
    â€œI just thought, she’s so sweet, funny, and nice and has this great personality and those pretty eyes. I