Page 57 of She Likes It, Hey Micah
“I highly doubt Kenny wants anything to do with us after being stuck here all night.”
“I got to know you better. And see you smile.”
Thankfully he doesn’t have an argument for that, and we sit in silence for a bit while he continues to run his fingers through my hair. Each touch sends sizzling heat from my head to my toes, and I have never been more comfortable than I am right now. Still, I want to explain to him why I am the way that I am, even if he might look at me differently.
“Life is too short to waste time being upset,” I say, curling into a tighter ball. “My mom died when I was little, and I don’t know if I’m predisposed to get the same kind of cancer that she had. Honestly, I’m too scared to find out. But I do know that I am going to spend whatever time I have being as happy as I can be because that’s so much better than living scared and frustrated. Even when things are terrible, there’s always some sort of silver lining, and that’s what I want to focus on.”
Fischer’s fingers, which had grown still while I spoke, slowly tuck some hair behind my ear before feathering across my cheek and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I’ve never had anyone touch me with such deliberation, and my stomach twists with each new point of contact, like every touch sends a signal to a part of me I didn’t know existed. I’ve never felt this before, and I’m almost too scared to put a name to this feeling.
“You should sleep,” Fischer says as he brushes his fingers across my forehead. For some reason, that triggers my eyes to close, and that sends a wave of exhaustion through me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life, not even with cheerleading competitions, but I don’t want to waste what little time I have with Fischer.
“Will you tell me about your childhood?” I ask him, though my words are just a mumble.
He takes a slow breath. “What do you want to know?”
Anything. Everything. But I’m asleep before I can tell him.
***
October 19
When I wake, the lights have turned back on and golden sunlight glows from the windows. Dull murmurs fill the room from those who have woken already, but everything is generally muted. Maybe that’s because I’m still exhausted, but maybe it’s because everyone has figured out that they’re okay. At least, I’m assuming everyone is okay.
I don’t want to move to find out.
I’m still in the exact same place I was last night, which means Fischer fell asleep sitting up. I turn my head to see his head hanging, dark circles more pronounced than ever. Why didn’t he move me? Even if he didn’t want to sleep next to me, he should have moved my head off his lap and freed himself to go somewhere else. He must be exhausted.
Sitting up slowly, I twist around and place the pillow on the ground, and then I take hold of his shoulders. He’s going to be heavier than I would like, but maybe I can lower him slowly enough that he doesn’t wake before I have him settled.
Halfway to the ground, his eyes fly open, and he jerks away from my touch. But he’s still falling, so he reaches out to catch himself, catching me instead and knocking me backward until we’re both on the ground and he’s flush against me. He landed on his elbows, so his shoulders are raised up a bit, which means our faces are close together but not touching.
As my heart races, I hold my breath. So does he. Fire burns through me, making me wonder if steam is rising from my face, but Fischer is staring at me so intently that I can’t move or breathe or think about anything except what it would feel like to kiss him. Does Fischer even like kissing? It took so long for him to admit that he likes holding my hand, but kissing is a whole other story. Besides, if he kissed me, it would mean he wants more than a friendship with a deadline.
Do I want that? There was nothing romantic about our first meeting. I didn’t feel butterflies when I first saw him. I haven’t even thought about dating him until now! Not seriously, anyway. None of those are signs of any sort of romance blossoming between us. Where were the fireworks? The tingling nerve endings? The gut feeling that we’re meant to be?
Still, when he doesn’t move, I reach up and brush my fingers across the stubble on his jaw, wondering what it would feel like against my cheek. I haven’t kissed a guy with facial hair before, and while this hardly counts as a beard, it’s more than anything I’ve experienced before. Would it make his lips that much softer?
Of its own accord, my tongue brushes over my lips, and Fischer tenses.
“Price!”
“Micah!”
Lila and Grant shout at almost the same time, and Fischer scrambles off of me in a tangle of limbs as we both struggle to get up. He’s on his feet first and grabbing Grant, pulling him into the kitchen, which leaves me to stumble out and try to make myself look presentable in front of Lila. My hair is probably a mess, and I can imagine the things she’s going to assume after seeing Fischer and me come out of the same place.
“I’m here,” I say breathlessly, hurrying to her side.
Thankfully, Lila has her eyes closed and her hands pressed to her temples. “What is going on, Micah? Who are all these people?”
How do I spin this so she doesn’t get mad at me? “Um, you weren’t feeling well yesterday,” I say as gently as I can. “And a storm came in, so we got stuck here, and there was a bus that got stuck in the snow. You and Grant were nice enough to let everyone stay here so they didn’t freeze to death out in the storm.”
Lila peeks her eyes open, squinting as she takes in the room again. “I don’t remember… That does sound like me. Do we have any food?”
I cringe. “Unfortunately, no.”
“So you expect me to starve?”
“There might be some coffee somewhere?”
