Page 71 of Faking Forever 1
She’s so nice and kind, and it’s painful. The world is so undeserving of her.
“It’s okay.” I pull her down onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her.
Her body fell into me like she’d lost control, and there she stayed, tucked in my chest. Kissing her head, I hold a hand against her head, seaming my fingers through it repeatedly.
“I love you, and nothing is going to change that. Just be chill. I got you.” I whisper.
I can feel the thought of London weighing on my body like a giant title wave. I’m patient when it involves her, but it needs to be brought up sooner rather than later.
* * *
The morning was fresh and foggy, exactly how I liked it. It was 164
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just right for me to get a nice longboarding session in before going to get ready for the highly,notanticipated, camping trip. I’m strictly looking for some alone time with Paisley, and that’s the only thing I’ve been anticipating this entire time if I’m being real. There wasn’t anything else that this trip was serving me that I needed to look forward to. I’m still pissed off about my nose, and after a long-awaited trip to the hospital, I found out that it was, indeed, fractured.
The good news is that it’s only up to a ten-day healing time, and I don’t have to wear some stupid strip or anything over it.
Another good thing is that seven of those days have already passed. The bad news is that I’m stuck with this gnarly bruise for however long it decides to hang around. After a series of lectures, I’ve decided that listening to my intrusive thoughts about Nick has to be put aside. By that, I mean Paisley decided, and I’m just listening because I’m whipped. Exhibit A is me picking up some flowers and her favorite blueberry breakfast cakes so I can have an excuse to see her this morning.
Being as our backyards are nearly connected, all I had to do was walk over to her yard and get onto her balcony. She always left the door unlocked since we were kids. She would say it was for just-in-case purposes. I mindlessly took advantage of that whenever there was a storm, or my parents argued.
Even if I just wanted to see her and say nothing. Sometimes, I would come over and just sit on her big, fluffy pink comforter to feel like I was close to her. Then, I would be severely upset when it would never work.
She would never find that out on my watch. Those are just some secrets I like to keep close to myself. Over that time she was away, I spent most of it realizing how head over heels I am for her, making it even more exhausting to survive than 165
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usual. So, while I was able to, I was going to take advantage of every opportunity I could to give her my time. No longer being in denial is one hell of a drug.
Now, I could go through the front door and not be a simpleton, but for the sake of nostalgia, I take the original route, climbing the tree that had pretty much grown around her balcony.
Reaching the top, I hop over the railing and dust myself off.
I’d worn an old flannel and sweatpants, but I was starting to rethink that decision. The only thing saving me was my hat that covered my bedhead.
Walking closer to the door, I could see all of the pink little accessories that filled the room in the window. I could also see her blonde hair poking out from the covers amongst the few stuffed animals that lay around her. Carefully, I turn the knob of the door, opening it like a snail, trying my damnedest not to wake her. Opening the door enough to fit, I slip my body through and close it behind me, then set the bag of food and bouquet on the foot of the bed. Somehow, that was enough to make her turn over, now facing me.
Lifting my hat from my head, I turn it backward, sitting beside her to lay on my side. She was unearthly when she slept. I almost didn’t have the heart to wake her. I’d rather be selfish and lay here watching her instead. It’s incredible how angelic she could look while simply sitting unconscious.
Everything about her is closer to perfection than anything has ever been, from her thick blonde hair down to her French tip, pearl-painted acrylics. Nobody could be as lucky as I am, and I’m willing to challenge anybody who disagrees with that statement.
Laying here with her makes me wonder what we’d both 166
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be doing if she stayed in Denver. I could have never pictured anything being the way it currently is, and Iespeciallywouldn’thave predicted a fake dating plot on top of it. Still, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in this world. I’ve been praying she feels like I do, even if it’s the smallest puddle of feelings. I’d rather be grasping at a few straws than none.
I slid my hand along the comforter to meet her face, letting my thumb and forefinger drift along her soft jawline. All of her features feel the most familiar in my head, and I can remember them better than anything else. Long, wispy lashes that don’t require any mascara to flutter perfectly, a cherry red nose that somehow was always cold, and precious beauty marks scattered all about her cheeks. Tiny ones that almost looked like freckles, reminding me that she’s a brunette underneath it all.
A sigh of comfort puffs out her mouth as she adjusts herself for comfort, snuggling her cheek into my hand.
“Hey…” I whisper, scooting closer and planting a kiss on her temple.
She lets out a whiney moan, curling her body into a secure ball with the blanket.
“Paisley,” I sing in a melody, the softest I can, caressing her cheek.
