Page 22 of Toxic Wishes

As much as I wanted to give in and text him back, my sister instructed me not to. So I stood my ground and shoved my phone back in my backpack.

A few hours later, when I was home in my bedroom, he texted me again.

3:30 p.m: Abs, you there?

4:30 pm.: Okay, you have every right to be mad, but I have a legitimate reason for not reaching out in a few days.

Oh, my sweet toxic wish, don’t sting me back even worse as my punishment. I am sorry, and I miss you.

My heart nearly exploded as I saw text after text coming from him.

Okay, screw what my sister said. I couldn’t wait six days or even a second longer to talk to him. I picked up my phone and typed out a text.

Be careful what you wish for.

There she is.

Ya, I tried to appear mysterious since it is one of my signature qualities, but you make it hard to resist.

A swirl of warmth dances in my core as the dots pop up on my screen, letting me know he’s texting me back.

It’s the seductress in me—winky face.

Okay, what did you want to tell me, and what is your excuse for not reaching out, as you say, Blake Kilian? It better be a darn good one.

I want to talk in person. I can’t meet tonight, but how about this weekend? I will come to your house at 11:11, and you can sneak out. We can do our usual and hang, talk, listen to music, and maybe let me steal another kiss from you again.- kissy face emoji, heart emoji. Tongue emoji.

The butterflies in my stomach come to life as the images register from my eyes to my brain, and I contemplate what they mean. He does care about me.

See you then, Toxic Twin. I guess wishes can come true more than once. 11:11 Smiley face.

The weekend felt like forever to get here, but when the clock turned eleven, I rolled out of bed and snuck out of my window, putting pillows in bed, disguising myself to look like I was still in my room if my mom peeked inside. I carefully shut the window when my feet were planted on the ground, and the moonlight helped me see where I was going as I walked up to Blake’s car. His headlights were turned off, but his engine was still running. Opening the door, I quickly slipped inside.

80s music softly played throughout his speakers, and a wicked grin spread across his face when I looked at him.

“There you are.” He unbuckles his seat and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. I smell weed on his breath, but I don’t say anything as he stares at my reaction. “So fucking addictive,” he says as he dives in for my lips this time, swiping his tongue across my bottom lip first, and I open for him. Letting him devour my mouth, our tongues swirl around and around, and I let out an involuntary whimper as the heat between my legs grows. I am curious to feel him and know what it would be like to have him inside me. He cups one of my breasts through my pajama tops and squeezes hard but not too hard, just enough to make me clench my thighs together. I let instinct take over and reach for his belt, designer, I’m sure. But like a ninja, he grabs my wrists tightly, stopping me.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” I said, out of breath. I noticed a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as he sat back in his seat, adjusting himself.

“You’re not ready for that yet, sweetheart.”

I shake my head in confusion. “And how do you know?”

“Because we’re the same, remember? Plus, that’s not why I wanted to see you tonight.”

“Then why did you want to see me?” I ask softly, leaning closer to him, but he backs away as if I really was toxic and I could sting him at any moment.

“Are you mad that I’m not treating you like one of the little sluts that come in my room or car at night?”

His words take the breath out of me. I wasn’t expecting him to say that, but I never know what to expect from Blake Killian's mouth these days. So damn moody.

“No, I-I just don’t know why you don’t want to do that with me.”

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I do. I really do.”

“Then what is it? Because,” I lower my gaze, looking at my hands, “because I’m not pretty enough.” My voice softens at the last word.

“sweetheart, you are beautiful. He moves a strand of hair from my face. “You’re special to me. And stopping this is showing you how true what I’m saying to you, is. But you’re not ready like I said. So I don’t want to be the one you hate after you figure that out.”

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