Page 12 of His Small Town Girl


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Lilli: Kiss or kill?

Me: Kill.

Lilli follows up with a call and I fill her in on everything. She listens patiently as she always does, her little gasps making me laugh as I tell her all about Will.

“You said kill, but I’m leaning toward kiss.” Lilli says.

“That would be one angry kiss.” I say, not believing for a second that at the moment I would pick kissing Will over shaking some common decency into him.

“It would be delicious.” Lilli sighs in her dreamy way.

“No, it would be degrading. Will thinks I’m some small-town stereotype to be walked all over, used, and thrown aside.” I argue, knowing I couldn’t in good conscience kiss any guy who didn’t see me as a person.

“True, but I think he will come around. Nothing a southern woman does better than put a man in his place. Once you do that, kissing is fair game.” Lilli says, a knowing tone entering her voice the way it does all southern women’s when they are plotting.

“Pretty hard to put someone in their place when they are pushing you around.” I mutter, feeling dejected.

“Then push back, Hannah!” Lilli says.

“I am, but it isn’t going anywhere.” I’ve argued with Will every day of this trip and it still feels like he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said.

“Mmmm, he is as stubborn as you.” Lilli says as if that is a good thing. “Then just skip to the kissing. I find men are much more pliable after I’ve shown them exactly why they should want to stay on my good side.” She isn’t joking. Lilli thinks most boy problems can be solved by kissing.

“Goodbye, Lilli.” I say as I hang up the call, knowing I’ve exhausted all of her good advice when she starts talking about kissing men into submission. That may work for the small-town boys we’ve dealt with, but I doubt Will would fall in line after a steamy make-up session. Plus, I’m not even sure kissing is what I want from Will. I mean, sure he is attractive, but I hardly want to kiss him when he is too busy seeing me as a caricature rather than a person. Right now, all I want is for him to listen, but as I fall asleep, I wonder if even that is too much to ask of someone so set in their ways.

Chapter 10

Will and I play nice for the next couple of days, and by nice, I mean we completely ignore each other. We are meeting yet another Susan Smith today and so, after getting ready, I head out to the car, where I find Will. He looks how he always does, annoyingly attractive, as he leans up against the car.

“Hello STG.” He says with a smile as I stop next to him.

“STG?” I have no idea what kind of derogatory slang that is, but if it is coming out of Will’s mouth, it can’t be good.

“Small-town girl.” He explains, and I relax. If he is calling me STG, he must have moved past the ignoring me stage.

“Okay, CB.” I mirror his own nickname for me and smile. Will may annoy me, but this road trip is more fun when we are speaking.

“Good, you caught on. I was worrying about your mental faculty after our argument.” He jokes, slinging an arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze. Butterflies erupt inside my stomach and internally I call myself pathetic for getting butterflies from a side hug. What am I, twelve years old?

“I’m sure you think there must be something wrong with everyone who disagrees with you.” I roll my eyes and shrug out from under his arm.

“Pretty much.” Will admits.

Soon after, my dad shows up and we climb in the car, headed towards another Susan. This Susan lives in a suburb that is so cheery and perfect, it seems staged. Houses in every shade of pastel line the street, each with the same amount of perfectly manicured lawn and flower plot. Not a thing is out of place.

“It’s like the twilight zone.” I say to no one in particular.

“A suburban hellscape.” Will shudders.

“It has no character.” My dad adds, and we all nod.

Dad parks the car on the street in front of this Susan’s house and we pile out. A couple of kids are playing in the street, so this place can’t be as off-putting as it seems. Will knocks on the door and after the sound of footsteps from the other side, it swings open to two identical blonde haired, blue-eyed, little boys.

“Who are you?” The twin on the right questions, his little face screwed up in confusion.

“My name is Will. Can we speak to your parents?” Will’s voice is noticeably softer as he speaks to the little boy, which makes me melt.

“Yeah, mom is here.” The twin on the left says, before turning to the stairs behind him and yelling, “Mom, there are some people at the door for you!”

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