Page 47 of Catching Feelings

The look in his eyes should’ve been a warning. But, oh, I’m glad I didn’t heed it.

No one seems to notice I’m at an entirely different party than them.

Except my best friend, of course.

Kara’s eyes sharpen the moment I approach her and Harper on the couch. They flutter over my loose hair, narrow in suspicion. She helped me tie that ribbon earlier.

What happened? she mouths.

I shake my head subtly and mouth back, Later.

She frowns at me, surely about to protest, but luckily Harper’s standing to give me her spot. “I’m off,” she says with a yawn. “Past my bedtime.”

“Oh, come on!” Kara pouts. “Stay a little longer! It’s still so early!”

“No, thank you.” Harper’s unfazed, grabbing her jacket and bag from the floor without pause. “I know what kind of nonsense happens here when it gets late. This house has seen things.”

As if on cue, Ryan cheers from the kitchen, holding out fresh cups to the football players waiting at the island. It reminds me of the flirting we started here last fall. Biggest mistake of my life. If only I’d known the havoc that would unleash…

The butterflies in my stomach flutter at warp speed. I take a deep breath and remind myself: I’m managing the fallout. He’s getting his team to bake brownies, for heaven’s sake! We’re safely friends again, thanks to Tyler as a buffer.

My cheeks flush. I can still feel Tyler’s hands on my thighs.

Ryan’s with Haley now. Maybe… maybe we really can have that conversation “catching up.” Maybe it would be okay.

At some point. When I’m feeling brave enough.

“But there are upsides to nonsense.” Harper grins cheekily. “I gotta get to my FaceTime date with Dawson, so…” She shrugs. “Have fun, you guys.”

While Kara whistles and makes some joke about who exactly will be having the most fun, I glance at Tyler. He’s talking to Will, but his eyes are still fixed on me.

Nonsense is right.

I duck my head so my hair falls in my face, hiding the smile that chases away my every worry.

I listen to Kara get recommendations for her cross-country road trip from Gabe, who did a big college tour with his family this summer, and somehow manage to make all the expected noises of awe and excitement. I even ask a few questions.

I keep an eye on Naomi while she flirts with Jenna, and I’m there to take a photo of them for Naomi’s story. I frame it perfectly, capture their best angles, and give my friend the chance to snuggle up to her crush unencumbered. Afterward, we whisper on the couch about how it really does seem like Jenna’s healed and moved on, and is probably prime for asking to homecoming, and what are the cutest ways to do it?

I clean up cups and bring everyone more snacks and keep smiling, acting normal. Sabrina of the Spirit Committee, the girl who’s always looking out for everyone and never causing any trouble.

But I’m not present for a minute of it. I’m floating above my body, totally sober but absolutely wasted on Tyler’s kisses. Part of me is still in that bathroom, smelling lavender soap and feeling the cold press of the sink against the backs of my knees.

Only Kara’s elbow in my side nudges me back to consciousness, long after midnight. “I think Naomi needs to go home,” she murmurs.

When I turn to look, sure enough, Naomi has somehow fallen fast asleep against Priya’s shoulder even amidst the chaos of the party. Priya has gone very, very still—she meets our eyes with a shrug, stroking Naomi’s hair gently. “She’s lost to the world,” she murmurs, using her free hand to adjust the sweater draped around Naomi’s shoulders. Black and oversized, so it’s definitely not Naomi’s—Priya must have blanketed her in it whenever she went down. If we don’t get her home to her own bed, she will definitely be passed out here for the foreseeable future.

I stand, relieved that I don’t have to pretend to be normal anymore. “Designated driver, reporting for duty.”

We circulate briefly to say our goodbyes, but that turns into a lot more recaps of the game and hugs of congratulations while Naomi sways in tipsy exhaustion. We finally make it to the front door when Ryan intercepts us with full puppy-dog eyes.

They don’t affect me at all anymore. I give him a brief, friendly hug before opening the door.

“You can always stay the night, you know,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a charming smile. “You remember—”

“All the spare bedrooms? Oh, I remember.” I roll my eyes and duck under his arm.

But giving Ryan a hug makes it easier to give Tyler one too. He steps out behind me, Ryan waving us along from the door, and wraps his arms around me.