Page 14 of Reckless Roses
I suck in a sharp breath, face falling into my hands where they rest on my knees. The back door opens and closes behind me. “Oh. Sorry, I?—”
“No, it’s fine.” I sigh, lifting my head to turn around. Abby Phillips stands behind me, her bright red hair falling off her shoulders, pale cheeks flushed and sprinkled with freckles, her blue eyes wide as she takes me in.
She swallows, slowly sitting down beside me. I meant it was fine she was outside; I didn’t necessarily mean I wanted her to sit next to me, but I don’t know how to say that.
My fingers drum awkwardly against my thigh as she says, “Hey, August.”
“Hey, Abby.”
“Um.” She turns to face me, smiling softly. “How's the party?”
I shrug. “I don’t love having my house invaded by people.”
“I can imagine.” She nods. “Sorry to be an invader.”
“No, I—” I shake my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re fine.” I stumble over my words. “You’re great!”
I’m fucking stupid.
She giggles, hiding her face. “Thanks. Um, anyway…you’re taking Mr. Adams’s A.P. Literature class this term, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I assumed. You’re so smart.” She smiles, biting her thumb. “Have you readThe Great Gatsbyyet? For the summer reading list?”
“I readGatsbyyears ago, but I’ll probably read it again before school starts up.”
“Of course you’ve already read it.” She laughs. “Well,” dipping into the pocket of her jeans, she pulls out a napkin, “I thought…if you wanted to get together before the school year to talk about it, maybe read each other’s reports? I…” She bites her lip, gently placing her hand, and the napkin with her phone number scribbled across it, on my thigh. “If you want to get together, you should text me.”
Fuck. Does she mean what I think she does? Is that what this is?
My head whips sideways, meeting Abby’s gaze head-on, and she’s staring at my lips.
I clear my throat. “Thanks, Abby. I’ll…uh… I’ll definitely?—”
The back door opens again.Thank God. It’s not that I don’t find Abby attractive. She’s cute as hell. She’s nice and smart, too. From what I hear, she’s not crazy, and she hasn’t fucked Everett, so that’s a plus.
But when she put her hand on my thigh, I felt nothing—nothing compared to the way I know I’m capable of feeling when a girl touches me.
“Augustus!” Elena’s voice chimes, and my entire body goes on alert, reminding me precisely just how much sensation I can experience from the presence of another person.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Abby murmurs, standing abruptly. Her footsteps pad up the steps, and the sliding glass door slams shut behind her as she re-enters the house.
“That was weird,” Elena mutters, plopping down beside me, her drink sloshing over her cup and spilling down her hand. I track the droplets of Leo’s fucked-up punch dribbling down her wrist, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d be willing to stomach the toxic liquid if I was licking it off her skin.
“She’s nice,” I say instead.
Elena shrugs. She’s definitely tipsy.
“Why did you run away?” she asks. “I missed you.”
“Not a big fan of parties.”
“But it’smyparty,” she slurs.
“I thought you weren’t a big fan of parties either.”
“I’m a big fan ofyou.” She giggles, throwing her arm around my shoulder and dropping her face into the crook of my neck. Her breath is warm, sending sparks down my spine as she continues, “Everett wanted a party, and I wasn’t going to let him get all the attention on my fucking birthday.”
