Page 33 of Best Mistake Ever
She frowns, as if she’s working out whether she really wants to join me right now. Then her expression clears and she gives me an awkward-looking wave. ‘Um. Yes, sure. Okay,’ she calls back.
Her uncertainty gives me pause. Is she worried about being around me now?
After letting the hoop drop to the floor, then stepping out of it and handing it to one of the people running the workshop, she strides over to where I’m standing. Is it my imagination or is she nervous? Her hands flutter at her sides as she picks her way between the people between us, then smooth down her thighs as if she’s trying to tidy the skinny jeans she’s wearing.
My heart sinks at the realisation that she’s probably going to be really uncomfortable around me now.
I silently curse my misunderstanding of the situation last night.
I still can’t believe I got it so wrong.
It makes me question what else I’ve got wrong recently.
Unease settles on me like a heavy blanket.
‘Let’s go outside,’ I suggest when she reaches me. I really don’t want an audience for this conversation.
She nods and follows me out of the tent and onto the lawn. Most people seem to be either in a workshop or still asleep so there’s no-one in our vicinity.
‘Hey,’ I say.
‘Morning,’ she says with a tight smile.
‘Enjoying yourself?’
Her face falls and she clears her throat, looking castigated. ‘I’m in the process of checking the workshop leaders have everything they need. I just stopped for a second to have a quick go with the hoop.’
I hold up a hand. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest you weren’t doing your job properly.’ Frustration rattles through me. Is this what it’s going to be like from now on? Jesus, I hope not. ‘Look, I know I’ve made things awkward between us after what happened last night. I just wanted to apologise for that. I read the situation all wrong, clearly.’ I hear the gruffness in my voice and hope she doesn’t think I’m angry about it.
I’m not. Just embarrassed. And a little bit fucking frustrated.
‘No need to apologise. Seriously,’ she says. And she sounds like she really means it too.
I relax a little.
There’s an odd expression on her face that I’ve never seen before though and it stops me from feeling completely convinced that we’re back to where we should be. I guess we need a bit more time to regain our equilibrium.
There’s a muffled scream then awhump whumpsound from the tent to the right of us and we both turn to look at each other with concern. That doesn’t sound good.
As one, we turn and hurry towards the tent entrance. I push aside the canvas door and enter the tent in a rush, intent on finding out what the hell’s going on in there, my heart thumping hard.
I come to an abrupt stop, with Dee nearly bumping into me, as I take in the sight of a large group of people, all armed with pillows. They’re swinging away at each other with them, aiming for each other’s torsos or legs, their faces showing a mixtureof determination and elation. There are shouts and squeals of delight as they lay into each other, their soft weapons of choice making the gentlewhumpingsounds we heard from outside.
‘Pillow fight!’ Dee says on a gasp of relief and amusement.
‘Here you go,’ someone says to our right, tossing us both a pillow covered in a soft, cotton pillowcase. ‘Get stuck in!’
I turn to look at Dee to see what her reaction is to this bizarre instruction.
She grins back at me and raises her eyebrows in question.
Am I up for it?
Yes. I think I am.
And I’m determined to get the first blow in.
Without a word, I raise one eyebrow in a show of challenge, then quickly swing the pillow forward in a gently swiping motion, connecting with her left arm.
