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I feel terribly embarrassed to have let such a thing happen. Just yesterday I was having sex with my boyfriend for the first time. I was kissing this guy I’m dating, who I gave a chance, and tonight I’m ruining everything forthis.
A kiss I’ve been waiting for since I was a kid. Which I dreamed of for so many years and which did not have the desired effect. Even in my worst nightmares, the feeling of rejection was not so strong. Devastating.
Gabriel warned me.
Nolan gets up from the couch, walking around the coffee table and heading for the door that leads to the hallway. He looks confused, but he stops before passing it, turning to me.
“I don’t know what got into you, but I’ll blame it on the few beers you had at Milo’s.”
“You won’t tell anybody?”
My voice dies when I look up to stare into his face. He frowns as he tries to read my expression. I feel like he’s exposing me. Realizing thatthiswas simply the result of years of one-sided feelings and frustration.
“To Edgar,” I say, as if it weren’t clear enough. “You won’t tell him anything?”
“I won’t say anything because nothing happened.”
Then, after staring at me one last time, he leaves the living room and leaves me alone.
I screwed up everything.
16
Nolan
“Don’t wait for me, guys, I have to return a book to the library.”
“To thewhat?” Leo repeats.
I hear the irony in his question very clearly and give him my best middle finger. He bursts out laughing at the same time as Edgar, who is twisting the keys to his Jeep between his fingers.
“It’s not that far,” he says. “We can wait for you.”
“I have my car,” I say.
I nod toward the Chevy a few feet away. Ed nods silently, clutching the strap of his hockey bag. We have just come out of training, and it’s still daylight. The weather has started to change, the heat has given way to a pleasant coolness, and we can still afford to drag our wet hair outside without fear of freezing. I ruffle my damp locks in a nervous tic and glance quickly at the lights emanating from the library behind me.
“OK. Scar must have gone home. I’m going to ask her if she has anything planned for tonight. See you at home?” says Edgar
I confirm with a nod and let the guys join Edgar’s Jeep, ignoring the feeling in my chest at the mere mention ofScarlett.
I haven’t seen her since I left the living room Thursday night. Although running away is a much better word for what happened. Yet, I have no damn idea whatreallyhappened on that couch. We were watching her show, I was pissing her off like always, she was laughing, she was bugging me, I was defending myself.
She kissed me.
I can still feel the pressure of her lips, the frantic beating of her heart in her chest. My torpor. The panic that surged through my veins in a split second. The pain I read in her eyes and felt deep inside. At that exact moment, I told myself that I had lost her and that she would never feel comfortable with me again.I know Scarlett, and when there’s something that embarrasses her, stresses her, worries her, she closes up and runs away. A bit like I did that first Thursday evening, but ten times worse.
She has already started doing it with me.
On Friday, she managed not to meet me when she left the bathroom. She was off to college before I even offered to drop her off. I was thinking of using the travel time to talk with her. Understand what had happened and reassure her. I clearly don’t care that she had a moment of weakness.
Although honestly, I don’t understand how she could have done that. With me.
I thought about it all night, promising myself I wouldn’t do anything to rush her, to push her away, because I was pissed off just thinking she was mad at herself.
I really meant it when I said it was definitely the few beers she had at Milo and Gabe’s. She’s not a girl who drinks a lot, although in France I imagine she must have had parties. All it takes is one unusual variation and the alcohol goes to your head. The stress of some college homework—she’s in the middle of it. Lack of sleep. She spends most of her nights sleeping only four or five hours and a whole bunch of other stuff that could have played on her mood.
I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a big deal and that for me it was forgotten. Except that she didn’t give me time to get over my surprise and she completely disappeared. On Friday, she had left the bleachers before the game even ended, telling her brother that she had homework to do. On Saturday, we all went back to our parents for the weekend. She didn’t come out of her room until Edgar was ready to hit the road, and I suspect she pressed him to leave the apartment as soon as possible. It wasn’t even nine o’clock. A Saturday morning. And Edgar was really pouting.
