Page 195 of As the Rain Falls
I might not get the chance to do this again once he finds out. Because eventually, Beckett will. There’s no way in hell he won’t, because I’ll tell him.I’ll be honest for once, because I owe it to Lucia, after everything she’s done for me.
Even if it’ll ruin everything.
“I have to finish getting ready.”
“Okay.”
“Caleb will be picking me up soon.”
“I know.”
His scent lingers.I feel it on my skin, my clothes, my hair, even hours later. I feel tied to Beckett in a way that makes me weirdly emotional. He pulled some strings inside of me, and made me feel like a young girl again. But I’m not this sweet and innocent person anymore. I’m dirty, and I’m…
I’m wrong.
I’m wrong and deeply flawed.
I’m nother.
I blink, finding myself at a party.
“What’s up with you?” Caleb asks as we get to his friend’s house. “You’re acting weird.”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Are we cool?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, smile a little more.” He grabs my arm and yanks me towards him. The way his fingers are pressed against my wrists feels dangerous. “You look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, pretending not to care. “I’m just feeling a little tense.”
But I can’t focus on Caleb, can’t focus on kissing him, and caring about him, because Beckett’s steady hold still grounds me somewhere else. That small second, in my kitchen, felt the most perfect. But that’s the thing about good moments: they never last long enough, as far as I can tell.
“Do you want a drink?” I hear him ask. “It’ll help you relax.”
“Sure.” I shrug, ignoring every bad rumor I’ve heard about him so far. “Why not?”
FIRST TIMES ARE SO OVERRATED
Cassandra
DECEMBER, 2016
Caleb’s breath is warmas he whispers into my ear, “You’reactuallythe hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Like he’s just realizing it now.
The party at José’s—some kind of Christmas pre-celebration—is running almost an hour late. Kayla texted me not to come, butI ignored it. I regret it now, but then again, I tend to regret a lot of things these days.
“So fucking needy.”
Caleb’s words often rub me the wrong way. Something about his tone now feels mocking, though I can’t pinpoint what exactly makes me think so.
I don’t know whether I should feel offended or not, but the dress still slips off my shoulders. I watch him toss it aside like it matters very little to him, and I try not to feel upset about spending so much time getting ready earlier just for him not to notice any of it.
“Can we slow down?”
