“We weren’t even together. I don’t know why he’s bothering with this.” I try to brush it off as if I don’t care. His words ring in my brain reminding me that he absolutely does not feelanythingfor me.
“Pinky, maybe…justmaybe, he feels differently?” Delaney looks at me cautiously.
“No. No, no, no, no, no, no,” I start, unfolding my legs from her couch and putting the tub of chocolate cookie dough chunk ice cream on the table. “He’s not allowed to do that!” I yell at Delaney who takes it in stride. “He’s not allowed to set me up on dates but also have feelings for me and not tell me! Communication is KEY!” My voice is whiny and shrill, but I don’t care.
“You’re right, it is. Which is why I think he subconsciously matched you with some heinous dates, and why you need to give him another chance.”
I glare at my traitorous best friend, “Am I hallucinating? He said I’m fake! He basically said I have no substance and pretend to be a damsel in distress,” I seethe, beginning to pace Delaney’s living room.
“Listen. Pinky, I totally understand why you do this, if my mom?—”
“No! Don’t play that card, Lane. I mean it.” I point a finger at her angrily. “I’ve opened up to you about all that in confidence. Meaning, not to be used against me, FOR A BOY, no less!” My hands are waving around my head dramatically.
“Celeste…”
“Don’t you ‘Celeste’ me! First names are saved for big conversations,” I yell. I’m acting hysterical, I know it.
“Okay. Pinky, I love you, sweetie,” she says pointedly, “but please stop yelling. It sounds like you just said ‘don’t youmolestme’ and I know for a fact my neighbours like to listen through the walls.”
Delaney sighs and looks at her hands folded in her lap, which only makes my anger flare hotter. It feels like she’s picking her words carefully for a petulant child throwing a tantrum. She’s freaking gentle parenting me.
She looks up at me from her spot on the couch. “Celeste, maybe you should tell him.” My breath catches in my lungs. “I think that he needs to understandwhyyou have this perspective. Why you want your fairy tale, why you need control. And, why loyalty means so much to you.”
“No, he can’t know.” I shake my head, willing it away.
“Honey, he’s not your dad. He’s not going to leave,” Delaney says as she pulls me down beside her and tucks me under her arm, holding me. I let the tears fall.
“I’m scared, Lane.” I look at her, a sob ready to burst free.
“I know. Love is messy.” She starts rocking us back and forth gently as my brain trips over her use of the L-word. “Let me,” She swipes my phone from the coffee table, opening my messages and begins typing. “I’m texting him saying it’s me, and asking him to give you space for a bit.” She gives me a soft closed-lipped smile as she passes it back so I can read over the message before she sends it. I sniff and nod my approval before opening my laptop again. That damn medical school application question seems to have come to life and is taunting me. I tried. I tried my dating experiment and look where it got me. Stress, anxiety, and heartache fill my chest to the brim.
I tuck myself under a thick blanket and let more tears flow as Delaney sends off the text and confiscates my laptop. I’m so thankful to have a best friend that knows exactly what I need.
“Okay, before I forget, I’m going to go clean my skeleton!” Delaney pops up from her nook on the couch.
I resist my eye roll but answer her absurdity anyway, “Just say you’re brushing your teeth, you absolute freak.” Lane blows me a kiss from her bedroom doorway and now I can’t suppress the eye roll any longer, but I do it with love and sheer affection for my odd best friend.
She’s the one that tells me things I need to know, even when I don’t want to hear them. Delaney is right. I think I need to be honest with myself. I think I have real feelings for Dominic. I think it’s time I’m honest with him, about everything.
Just not today.
TWENTY
Con Panna
Dominic
Maybe this is stupid.Maybe Celeste is going to hate this. Maybe she already hatesme.
My negative thoughts compile on top of each other creating a trash pile in my brain. I try to sway from them, but it’s like dodging traffic during rush hour. Mission impossible.
I pace down the street from Celeste’s house. Delaney had told me she needed space then quickly added, “however, hand delivered flowers never hurt.”So here I am, pacing a block away with a giant bouquet mix of sunflowers, eucalyptus, and lavender tied together with a giant white satin bow.
I feel like a fucking idiot on so many levels right now.
I still can’t believe that I blew up at Celeste like that. It was totally uncalled for. The hurt I saw in her eyes…I scrub a hand down my face thinking about it. She was so fucking sad. AndI’mthe one that did it. All I remember was hearing the words “second date” and this swell of emotion came over me.
I’m emotionally coherent enough to know that jealousy was at the forefront of my decision-making in that moment and I let it get to me because of the shitty a day I had. All in all, none of that is Celeste’s fault. I just didn’t think any of these guys meant enough to her to move past the first date. I had the toxic gut feeling like I was being picked last for dodgeball in middle school.
