Meet Me Where the Oak Tree Grows novel Chapter 42

So, I'd come to the conclusion that I'd caught a rather peculiar kind of bug. It's so odd that I couldn't hang out with Jonah like I used to. Because of this strange feeling, I'd started acting weird myself.

I didn't let him do my laundry anymore, not even a single piece. Whether it’s a pair of socks or a big coat, I hung everything on my room's tiny balcony, just so he wouldn't see them. When we were on the bike, I didn’t hug his waist anymore. Instead, I awkwardly clutched the edges of my seat and kept my backpack in front of me, like it's some kind of shield to stop him from hearing my heartbeat.

When those awful cramps hit during my period, I quietly made my own ginger tea in the kitchen, rather than whining and using his hands to warm my belly like I used to.

Time after time, this invisible wall between us grew. What I didn’t notice was Jonah’s face getting darker and more serious. Marie even thought we were having a fight.

On Friday afternoon, as we headed home, Jonah parked the car with a stern look, and I got out first with my backpack. Marie pulled me aside, whispering, “Lana, did that boy tick you off?”

I was confused at first but quickly denied it, “No, no, Jonah and I are good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Just then, Jonah walked past me, and I instinctively stepped back a couple of paces. He let out a mocking snort that said a lot without saying anything.

Marie’s eyes darted between us, clearly not buying what I was selling. Blushing, I didn’t know how to explain that we weren't fighting—it was just me being all weird. But she just waved it off, saying, “Alright, I won't pry. You two will be back to normal in a few days anyway.”

Marie was like a fortune teller.

After dinner, she took her medicine right on time and went upstairs to rest. Jonah was sketching in his studio, and I planned to study beside him like old times. But ten minutes passed, and my test paper was still blank. My mind kept wandering towards him, and my heart was still racing.

Giving up, I picked up my paper, ready to head back to my room to work.

“It’s only half-past nine. Heading to bed already?” he asked.