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I wish I had someone to talk to about it. Despite Cassie and I being on speaking terms, I don’t think she’d be thrilled if I gushed to her about this. And I can’t talk to Kai about it. Would it be weird if I spoke to a guy about losing my virginity? Something tells me that’s crossing a line between me and Kai, and I don’t want to lose him.
When I stumble downstairs Saturday morning, Chase is here.
In my kitchen.
I go still and turn to run back upstairs, but he’s already spotted me.
‘I like your pyjamas,’ he says with a soft smile. ‘I swear I have the exact same ones.’
I cringe. ‘Do you want them back?’
Chase’s tee.
Chase’s tee I had sex in and slept in last night.
Chase’s tee that now smells like Archer, like Joop perfume and something musky.
‘I want them now,’ he says, sharply.
My mouth falls open. ‘Like—like, right now?’
His eyes light up. ‘Yes, Frankie Fart Fringe.Right now.’
He ought to be careful what he says, because the thought of stripping in front of him and having his eyes roam over every part of me makes me hot. He watches me closely, and I gulp and glance away from him.
Unbidden I remember sitting on the sofa with him at school, and how his closeness made me heady with nerves and excitement. He’d looked at me like that then, and I’d forgotten what I was doing, where I was, who I was waiting for.
I have the abrupt urge to fling one of the mouldy apples at him, just to stop him staring.
‘Is this why you’re here? To take back your pyjamas?’ I try not to look at him as I open the fridge and grab the milk.
‘Technically, I have every right to take back my pyjamas,’ he points out. ‘I borrowed them to you, and now you’re practically living in them. You’ve literally stolen my pyjamas. But no,’ he adds. ‘I’m helping your dad fix up the Stagg in time for the classic car run next month.’
I sip my glass of milk and lean against the counter, trying to hide my excitement at potentially seeing him every day after school. ‘Call the police. I’d love to hear what they have to say.’
‘What makes you think I haven’t called them? How do you know they’re not waiting outside?’
‘What are they gonna do? Strip me?’ I snort. ‘Without reason, they can’t touch me.’
‘I think the amount of milk you’re drinking warrants an arrest, actually.’ He eyes the bowl of cereal I place on the island.
I sit across from him. ‘Take your anti-milk opinions somewhere else. They’re not welcome in this kitchen.’
He’s silent as I eat. I still can’t look at him. I worry he’ll see in my expression what I did last night, as if I haveI had sex with Archer in your shirtwritten on my cheek. Why do I feel so guilty about it? Why is it eating at me like this? Chase doesn’t care who I have sex with, and even if he did, it’s none of his business.
Oh, God. What if Archer has told him? He told Chase about the first time he fingered me; why would he keep this from his best friend?
My heart pounds and my palms sweat and my cereal turns rubbery in my mouth.
I’d rather Chase hear it from me.
I set down my spoon and draw breath to speak when my mum enters.
She doesn’t even look at me, but I find it odd how she doesn't greet Chase until I realise she probably let him in.
Her red silk robe flutters behind her as she beelines for the fridge, grabs some strawberries and a couple bananas, and shoves them into the blender. After she’s poured her smoothie, her gaze narrows on me.
‘Who did I see you swanning off with last night?’ she asks.
