Page 30 of Pitcher Us
When Lucie gets up to follow behind her she leans down next to me. “Happy birthday, Callie. Please don’t take this the wrong way but you have a little mascara under your eyes.”
Great. Kill me now.
“Mine and Reagan’s old rooms have a Jack and Jill bathroom. We crash here a lot so there’s tons of stuff that we leave in there. Use whatever you want.”
“You angel,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
Fucking mascara. I try to wipe a little out from under my eyes as I excuse myself upstairs, but as I reach the top, I realize that Lucie didn’t specify a door. I go for the first one on the right, and I’m pretty sure I’ve just walked into Will’s old room.
There are some baseball and motocross posters on the walls and medals and trophies that take up almost an entire bookcase. I check the back of his door because finding a poster of a girl out of aSports Illustratedmagazine would make my fucking day, but it’s bare.
I’m dying to snoop, but I know I shouldn’t. Shutting his door, I decide on the door across the hall and find a room filled with bright colors—this one has got to be Lucie’s.
After quickly freshening up, I tell myself to go straight downstairs, but impulsive me takes control of my body and somehow my hand is twisting the doorknob to Will’s room again.
Walking up to the bookshelf first, I see a mix of baseball and motocross everything. Baseball medals, motocross trophies, pictures of him throughout the years in both. I feel like I can say confidently that his mom set all of this up and he never argued.
“Sneaking away from your own party?” Will’s voice makes me jump back from the shelf.
“I got a little confused finding my way back,” I blurt out the obvious lie.
He walks up next to me with a quirked eyebrow and one corner of his mouth tugs up at my ridiculous excuse. “Okay, Callie, whatever you say.”
Knots start to form in my stomach. I should be embarrassed that he caught me snooping but I don’t think he cares. He almost seems happy that he found me up here.
I don’t even know how to begin to express how much today has meant to me. This was everything I ever wanted out of this day. I didn’t need the big parties or any presents, I just needed someone to show that they actually cared.
I open my mouth, unsure of what will come out first, but Will holds up a little ornament. It's a frame made with macaroni noodles and extremely worn stickers.
“I’m sure this wasn’t the present you were expecting, but you said that you were never allowed to have those shitty self-made ornaments on your tree, and I thought maybe this could be your first one.”
Will hands me the ornament, and my mouth is still open but there are no words coming out of it. I’m freaking speechless.
My fingers tremble slightly as I take it from him. Looking at the picture in the ornament, I see it’s a smaller version of one I just saw on the shelf.
“It seemed only fitting that you get your picture of me in my motocross stuff since you rode on my bike.”
He’s giving me this ornament…that he made himself…because I talked about wanting them on my tree. And the picture that’s in it is a picture I talked about a month ago.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the gift. I’m in complete shock.
Will runs his hand through his hair. “If you don’t like it, you don’t?—”
Impulsive me is still very much in control because before he can finish that sentence, I move up on my tiptoes and place my lips to his.
The kiss is soft and quick…but nice… As I slowly move back to my heels, I feel how stiff Will’s body is, and I already want to run and hide.
I just kissed him. My only real friend here and I kissed him.
“Sorry, I—I,” I stumble over my words. I don’t even really know what to say, but I need to fill this silence. “I shouldn’t have done that. We’re at your family’s house, my brother’s here, you’re a player on the team. I just—I’m sorry.”
Maybe I was in the wrong by taking control like that. Maybe I crossed a boundary that we should have talked about before. I had gone on and on about unwelcome advances and here I was doing exactly that tonight.
And what am I doing, really? Do I like Will or am I just caught up in all of the sentimental aspects of this day? No one has ever thrown a party for me before or given me such a heartfelt gift, but maybe I’m misreading this whole situation. I mean, I do overthink things. Is this just normal friend behavior? Wyla has been my only real friend and she’s only gotten me gag gifts before.
Will continues to look at me with this unreadable look on his face, and I should stop talking, I really should, but I count two whole seconds of deafening silence before I start again.
“That was a mistake, I shouldn’t have?—”
