Page 50 of All Saints: Pledge

“This…everything got messed up. I came here to tell you about your grandfather, I came here to convince you to give up All Saints, and to move home. I didn’t intendthis. And no, not the worst thing ever. Farfarfrom it, but that’s the problem. We can’t be together. I signed a document?—“

“Statingno relationships, Jesus, Kendall it’s not like I proposed marriage. We kissed. That’s it.”

It sounds like a lie to my own ears. Because holyshitwas it more than just some kiss you write off in a bar bathroom as a bad decision.

His eyebrow quirks as if he’s going to challenge me, and I redouble my efforts to extricate myself. “You weigh too much,” I grouse as I push at him.

“This isn’t what I want, Helena.”

I pause in my fruitless pushing and blow hair out of my eyes. “Could have fooled me.” I nod crassly at his still-gigantic erection, pressing into my stomach.

He doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t look embarrassed. “This isn’tallI want, Helena.”

And that shuts me up. Because that feeling of peering behind the mask? Like he’s being therealKendall washes over me. And I think, I think he’s telling the truth. And it makes me strangely emotional. And I hate that more than anything he’s done all night. Because now I’m goddamnedinvested.

“What could we possibly have together? I’m not a vending machine. Kendall, you’ve been an asshole to me since we were fourteen. You don’t even know me.” I shove down the panic threatening to take over my whole body.

But he surprises me even further by looking into my eyes and saying, “I want to know you. And I’m not lying. I don’t know what it all means, I only know how I feel. Look, it’s late. And I…just need a moment to collect myself before I leave. Can we just, sit here a moment?”

I squint at him, his changes giving me whiplash again. “You want to just hang out in my room?”

He swallows and nods. “Let’s talk about normal stuff. We can talk about home if you’d like. Or music? I just…I need a minute to clear my head and I know it sounds stupid but I’m not ready to leave unless you’re kicking me out. My roommate is…not friendly.”

I get a glimpse of how lonely he is. I certainly get it. Clara and I have become nigh on besties simply because we are two American girls among a sea of hyper-intelligent people from other cultures.

“I get it.” I make to move again, but he leans down, wraps his arms around me again, and pulls me to him.

“Are we…snuggling?” I ask against his chest.

He doesn’t answer, he just rests his chin on my head again and takes a deep breath. I swear I can feel him unwind a little every second. I widen my eyes and then give a little shrug to myself before giving in to it. I’ve never had a guy want tosnuggle. It feels nice. I try to convince myself that it would feel nice with anyone, and that it has nothing to do with Kendall’s confession that he’s been into me since we were fourteen, nor ourinsanechemistry. I’m dangerously close tolikingmy tormentor.

“You’re wrong you know.”

“Proving my point you are aterriblesnuggler,” I laugh. Only Kendall could ruin cuddling with needing to point out his partner’s flaws. “That’s it. Get out.” I playfully push at him.

He sighs and cradles me closer, and we’re silent a long while. My eyelids start to droop before he talks again. “You’re wrong that I don’t know you. You don’t like coffee, you like tea. As far as I can tell you’ve switched from Earl Gray to something earthier here. Always oat or almond milk, never soy.”

My eyes fly open. This is indeed true. “Okay, creeper. I know All Saints has you stalk me, but that’s notknowingsomeone.”

“You tried out for the musical our junior year and got callbacks but didn’t show up because you wanted your best friend to get the part.”

I gasp. “No one knows that but me, and the music teacher.”

A chuckle rumbles in his chest. “I sat behind you in every class I could so I could watch you?—“

“Not helping your case as a creeper.” But there’s a buzz starting in my toes.

“I sent you one of those student council flowers one Valentine’s Day and you thought it was that asshole Jason.”

That one stops me a bit. There’d been the lyrics to a song I liked written on the card, and my dance date at the time took credit for sending me the flowers—his one moment of pure romance. Or so I’d thought.

“You don’t like roses though. I think you like tulips.” I try to pull back to look at him, but he keeps me firmly ensconced. “I’m sorry I was an asshole.”

“Was?” I’m still struggling to deal with this. Kendall isn’t admitting to lust, he’s…he’s hinting atrealfeelings. Feelings enough to send me flowers in high school. Feelings enough tosnuggle.

He laughs again. “For now. And I’m going to have to be. But let’s not ruin it with talking about what next. Just stay with me a little while.”

And so I do. God help me, I settle in with my cheek against his scratchy wool vest and I fall asleep in his arms like it’s something we do every night.

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