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The next morning, I awoke with a slight hangover, not enough that it was debilitating, but enough for me to know it was there. After washing Advil down with hefty gulps of water, I sat down in front of my textbooks and computer, hearing the Window’s chime as my laptop booted. My head was killing me, but I wasn’t going to pass these exams on luck. I knew I wasn’t much of a tester and knew that I couldn’t go in blind. I had to study. I had to focus.
Focus was the last thing my brain wanted to do. I replayed the night before in my mind. Milo and I had hit it off so well, so how had one kiss changed everything? Perhaps because I made it a big deal? Milo had been so easy to talk to, he had made me laugh and actually got me out on the dance floor. He was so fun and carefree. Even with the news of his mother and college, he still seemed to have a fun outlook on life.
And then there was me.
“I’m sorry, but I don't think I’ll want to try again.”
I slapped a palm to my forehead.
I didn’t even give the guy a chance.
Maybe it had simply been first date, first kiss jitters? Maybe if I had let him kiss me again…
Thebangof a door startled me, only worsening my headache. I spun from my desk as Ophelia walked in, wearing the same dress as last night, holding two paper coffee cups and her heels dangling from her fingers.
“Good morning!” Ophelia exclaimed, pure happiness in her voice. She was always this way after getting back from Clay’s.
I turned to look at her, her poofy curls bouncing with her step and her vibrant smile hurting my eyes. Ophelia was radiant, even in the same clothes as the night before.
“Oh, Ophelia, please…” I turned back to my desk and groaned, burying my forehead in the palm of my hand.
“Maddy,” she said, exasperated, “you can’t be hung over. You had like three drinks.”
I rubbed my eyes. “You know I’m a lightweight,” I grumbled.
“Hence…” She sat the coffee next to me. I popped my head up and eyed the tan cup. “Coffee.”
I carefully slid the cup toward me and took a sip. Bold with a bit of sweet, just the way I liked it. “Thank you,” I said, taking another drink before turning back to my laptop. “How was your night with Clay?”
“Would have been better if Milo didn’t show back up,” she said with annoyance, plopping on her bed. The wood creaked, and I was certain it would break any day now. Thankfully, we would be moving after exams. “You two seemed to hit it off, so why did he come home so early?”
“Well, for one, I’m not you.” I glared at her. Ophelia had become one of my best friends in the three years since we had met, but she and I were complete opposites when it came to our social lives. She was the one who went out and actually spoke to people where I was the one who sat and studied. Ophelia was a fashion design major, using her artistic skill to create new clothing that was as unique as she was, and the designs she shared where phenomenal, she could be runaway famous. With that major came general classes and marketing and design courses that Ophelia had no problem passing. She was smart and brilliant, I had to study for days—months even—and then pray I passed my tests. “Milo was great, but in the end, there was no spark.”I finally said.
Just admitting it made my stomach drop in knots. Therehadbeen sparks, therehadbeen chemistry…but that slobbery….excuse for a kiss?
Ophelia all but dropped her jaw. “I’m pretty sure you and Milo had a ‘spark.’” She air quoted. “Clay even said that Milo was acting differently, smiling for the first time in a long time.”
“Since his mom?” I pinched my brow and looked over at her.
“I guess.” Ophelia shrugged. “Clay said he doesn't talk about that much.”
I pursed my lips, running my finger against the mouse pad on my laptop. Milo hadn’t shown any grief toward his mom passing or dropping out of school. He mentioned the stress of being an EMT and that losing his mom was tough, but we didn't dwell on the topic. I sighed, trying to think back on our conversation and what had happened afterward. Milo was easy to talk to. He was great to get along with.
“He talked a lot, he actually listened to me,” I finally said. “He really was a great guy. He seemed to understand things.”
“Then what happened?” Ophelia said, the annoyance all but creeping up in her voice.
I furrowed my brow. “Well, he drove me back here, and I had every intention of inviting him in—or at least I thought about it. He walked me to the door, and we kissed—”
Ophelia gasped, pulling her hands to her mouth.
“Ophelia…” I continued. “It was a terrible kiss.”
Her hands and jaw dropped. “What?”
“His kiss was….slobbery and wet, and it felt so forced. I just….” I shuddered remembering. “We both agreed it was terrible, and that was that. We shook hands, and he left.”
“Did you at least get his phone number?”
