Page 69 of One Little Kiss
But I don’t know how to be that girl with my oldest friend. It’d be like putting on a costume and bursting into a tap dance routine.
“You can get into college,” he starts.
And that’s it. That’s my breaking point. “I don’t want to talk about colleges,” I practically snap.
He blinks and I feel like an ass.
I clear my throat and force a smile. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s cool.”
It’s not cool. I’m not cool.
This is not cool.
I jump in my seat when the waiter arrives beside us and takes my plate. “Would you like to see a dessert menu?”
“No!” It bursts out of me too loudly and too quickly. “Thank you,” I add with a tepid smile.
Elijah hands over a card and I make an excuse about needing the restroom to avoid having to sit there in silence while we wait for the card to come back to us.
I stare at my reflection for a long while in the bathroom, willing myself not to cry.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine.
We said one date, right? If it doesn’t work, we’ll just…go back to how we were.
I clutch the edge of the bathroom’s counter as I lean over it and squeeze my eyes shut. I will not cry on my date with Elijah.
Once I start I won’t be able to stop.
But my heart still feels like it’s breaking in two as I rejoin him with a smile and we head out to his car. The drive home looms ahead of me. Way too much time to sit in silence.
Way too much time to stew over what we’ve done and how badly we’ve messed up.
But maybe not forever, right? We can go back.
That’s my hope when he pulls up to my house to drop me off.
“Noelle,” he starts.
I shake my head. “Can we…not?”
His gaze is dark and serious, and when it dips to my lips, I pull back. It’s simple self-protection, that’s all. I don’t know if I’ll be able to say what I have to say if he kisses me again.
“I appreciate what you did for me tonight.” I say the words I’ve been mentally rehearsing for the last hour. “But I don’t think this is going to work.”
He doesn’t disagree.
Of course, he doesn’t agree either.
I force myself to meet his gaze as I hurry on. “I need you too much as a friend, Elijah.”
He nods, the movement jerky as his throat works.
“Can we…” I reach out a hand for his, but then drop it. I don’t want to send mixed signals, and any form of touching right now feels like it’d be crossing some line. “You said we’d try it once, right? And if it didn’t work we’d go back…”
“You want to go back.” His tone is flat, and I feel like there’s a hint of bitterness or cynicism, slight and soft but there, edging his tone.
