Page 74 of Tilly in Technicolor
Tilly bites on her bottom lip, squinting one eye at me then propping herself up on her elbows to look at the water. She shakes her head, and, suddenly, I want to know what she’s hesitating to tell me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
“Please,” I say softly.
Tilly swallows, still staring at the blue pool. “It’s scary,” she whispers.
“What is?”
“That I’m going to tell you something, and then you’ll know. And I’ll probably have to live with you not saying it back.”
“Tilly,” I whisper. And I can tell I sound a bit desperate. But I don’t care. I want to know.Needto know.
“I like you,” she says at last. “Like…reallylike you.”
She takes a deep breath, lips pursed and lines of pain around the corners of her eyes as she continues to stare at the water. “I think you’re annoying and hilarious and unfairly gorgeous and the most interesting person I’ve ever met and there’s no one in the world I’d rather talk to. And I feel so much of this… liking… that it’s overwhelming. And it’s sharp. It has spikes and teeth that dig into me as it grows because I know you won’t feel the same way. But I still wanted you to know.”
I blink at her, trying to process everything she said.
Wait.
Not feel the same way?
Is she daft? Does she have any idea, any clue, of what she’s done to my heart? That it aches and twists when she’s hurt? That it swells to discomfort when she so much as smiles or laughs? How does she not know about the absolute havoc she’s wreaked on the damn organ? She’s turned me inside out with everything I feel for her.
“I—I…” Words are, yet again, failing me.
“It’s okay,” Tilly says, waving her hands frantically. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Tilly. I’m not. It’s just… Well… I…”
“Seriously,” Tilly says, pushing to stand. “It’s probably better if we never bring it up again.”
“Wait.” I stand, too.
“In fact,” she says, grabbing her clothes and pulling her T-shirt on backward, “I think we should pretend this neverhappened.” She takes a step away from me. She’s talking so fast I can’t even think.
“Tilly. Hold on. I need to—”
“Okay. Cool. Glad we’re on the same page of this being an afternoon we swam and literally no conversation was had. Think I’ll run home. Or to the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe try to swim back to the States.” She starts moving.
Grabbing her wrist before she moves out of reach, I tug her back toward me. Her forehead collides with my chest and she lets out anoof.
She looks up at me, eyes wide and vulnerable, and I feel a slight tremble in her hands where I hold her. I can’t find the words. Can’t figure out the names for the feelings. I can’t…
And then, my lips are on hers. The ache in my chest eases, the frustrating chaos of my thoughts turning back into that peaceful hum I felt in the water. My head feels light, like I’m not getting enough oxygen. And it’s somehow perfect.
I want to stay right here. Forever.
But I can’t. Because, holy shit. I just kissed Tilly. Without asking permission first. Cubby would absolutely have my head if she knew.
I break away, taking a step back and sucking in a deep breath. Tilly’s eyes are closed, and she sways forward. Both our chests are heaving.
When she finally opens her eyes and looks at me, they’re wide and wild, a spark turning the gray electric.
“You kissed me!” she screeches.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did!”
