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Thea pulls back, blinking up at me in a daze. It’s my new favorite look on her. My heart gives an odd squeeze.
Leaning against the lockers for s
upport, she touches her lips, stunned. “That was my first kiss.”
“Want a second?” I rasp. With a crooked grin, I move in again, touching her cheek.
Her small hand plants on my chest, stopping me. Her voice is quiet, but serious. “I can’t do pretend with my emotions. I won’t. Either I’m your pretend girlfriend and that’s it, or…” She shakes her head. “We’ll need to talk about the texting stuff, I guess. Maybe we can’t ignore it and forget it happened. Right now, I can’t trust you.”
Trust.
Is this real? A strange sensation in my chest quivers and expands. Hope? Thea might be genuine in what she says. The thought bowls me over, painting my defensive actions today in a different light.
Swallowing, I move back, letting her go. Thea sidesteps me. Instead of returning to class, she walks down the hallway, lost in her head.
Maybe she’s not trying to play me after all. Could she be as honest as she seems? The concept is foreign to me.
I watch her retreat, well aware of how fucked I am.
Sixteen
Connor
Wednesday. My least favorite day of the week. Not because of cutesy hump day memes; those are hilarious.
No, on Wednesdays I’m treated to pure torture. My weekly appointments with Doctor Levitt. Worse, a standing lunch with my parents follows, something Dad insists on so we can spend time as a family. Total bullshit. An ice spike to the skull would be less excruciating.
Appearances.
All part of our happy family show.
The only reason Mom makes a point of joining us is because it gives her a boost in numbers when her campaign photographer follows us around and her social media manager posts to her official profiles with an update of how important family time is to Vivian Bishop. I swear it’s her only motivation for anything she does. Damien waits in her back seat while we suffer through cardboard conversations.
Mom’s been all over my case because the dinner at the children’s hospital is this weekend. I still need to tell Thea.
But first, I need to smooth things over with her.
Yesterday surprised me. The kiss and Thea’s words didn’t leave my mind all night. At first I tried to go back to what I know, looking for the part where she pulled the curtain back. But it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want it to be.
I think this is what Doctor Levitt means about believing someone at their word. I only find that in her office, and even then it was a hard road to get to the point I wasn’t bucking against everything out of my therapist’s mouth. Therapy might be dull as shit, but some of it has stuck. It’s nice to have someone speak their mind. I allow few people past my guard where I can take them at face value.
If Thea is showing me I can believe what she says, maybe I should try something new: apologizing.
Idling outside her house in the morning, I drum my fingers on the back of the passenger seat, waiting for her and dreading that it’s a Wednesday.
What if she doesn’t want a ride? Should I give her space?
It’s not a concession I’d ever give anyone else. Things go my way, or they don’t at all. But with Thea, it’s different.
Once my anger faded, I was able to think clearer. I felt like a bastard because it wasn’t her fault. And there was no way she faked that kiss. I was wrong. She’s not playing me.
The kiss from yesterday repeats in my mind and I lick my lips. That wasn’t an act for me, either.
I just wanted her, my secret vixen.
She’s right about it. There’s no forgetting what we’ve done. I never wanted it to stop, but she can’t ignore what’s between us either.
No, we need to discuss this before the benefit dinner.
