Page 33 of One Little Kiss
Over what I almost did.
I wipe a hand over my face, groaning aloud as regret slams into my chest.
I’d come so close to kissing my best friend.
And that…
That would ruin everything.
NINE
Noelle
Despite desperately wanting to,I don’t tell my dad how awful his choice of dates really was. I do, however, make it clear that I am not cool with him setting me up again.
Ever.
“But—” he starts over breakfast a few days later.
“Nope.” I reach for the fruit salad my mom’s laid out for us. “Never again.”
“He was only trying to help, sweetheart,” my mom says.
She has that consoling tone of voice she uses when she’s playing peacemaker. My dad and I don’t argue often—actually, our time together is usually pretty nice. But we’re both stubborn to a fault, and apparently my dad feels that involving himself in my non-existent love life is the hill he’s willing to die on this week.
I know without a doubt that if I tell my dad all the nasty things Brad said and explain just how handsy he got after a couple drinks, my dad would absolutely be on my side.
But the thought of repeating any of it makes me feel sick, and right now I just want to forget it ever happened.
But of course, the moment I think that, it’s back. All of it. Brad’s sneer, his nasty words…
And that moment with Elijah.
I have to work to swallow the piece of cantaloupe I just put in my mouth.
If I could magically erase that entire day from my memory, I would. But since I can’t, I settle for changing the conversation. “I’m gonna be home late today. There’s that college fair in the afternoon and it may run long.”
I don’t know if this is true. I’m also positive they won’t care. They’re so used to me spending my days at Elijah’s or Mara’s or Celia’s, no one blinks an eye if I’m not home until late.
“The college fair, huh?” My dad casts my mom this look that is so obvious, I’d have to be blind not to see it.
Ugh. Crap. I’ve never truly understood the whole ‘out of the frying pan into the fire’ phrase my dad uses until just this moment. I’ve gone from a bad topic to a horrible one.
“We don’t want you to get your hopes up, hon,” Mom says.
My dad cringes. “We just don’t want to see you disappointed, that’s all.”
Something heavy and horrible settles in my chest, stealing my appetite and any desire to stay at this table for a second longer.
“Oops.” I snatch my phone. “I just remembered, I’m supposed to catch up with Addie before school today…” I’m already pushing my chair out, pretending I’m in a rush.
I run away before they can stop me. And the thing is, I totally get it. I do. They seem to think that I’ve confused myself with Celia. Or Mara. Or anyone else in our class, for that matter.
But it’s not like I’m holding out hope for some Ivy League school. I just want the chance to see what’s out there. Figure out what I’m good at.
If I’m good at anything at all.
Addie answers right away. “Yay for breakfast dates!” She gets up early some days just to have these little check-ins and I adore her for it.
