Page 50 of One Little Kiss
I smile, but it feels forced. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the compliment. I’m weirdly nervous for tonight and there’s a reason I’m taking so much time and effort with my appearance.
Look good, feel good, right? My mom taught me that. I’m never more confident and calm than when I feel like I look the part I want to convey.
The problem is, when it comes to tonight…
I don’t know what part I’m playing. Or if I want to even play a part at all.
“Maybe I should call Elijah and tell him I’m bailing.”
The words kinda tumble out of my mouth and Addie gapes at me.
“What? Why? You can’t do that.”
“Why not?” It’s nerves talking, but I can’t stop them. My belly doesn’t just have butterflies buzzing about. It’s like a swarm of locusts in there.
And I hate it. I hate that I’m dreading seeing Elijah.
I hate even more than I can’t wait to see Elijah.
“I hate everything about this.” I’m pacing and poor Addie’s peering at the screen as she tries to keep up with me.
“What do you hate, Noelle?”
“I don’t want to feel this way.” I’m not making sense, but right now I can’t bring myself to care. Because I don’t want to spell this out. Not for Addie and not to myself.
“Are things still weird between you and Elijah?” she asks.
I nod. “And it’s all my fault.”
I’m still cursing myself for that stupid move I’d pulled in the parking lot. I’d treated Elijah like…like a guy. Like some random guy I could manipulate. I’d flirted and I’d seduced and, the worst part was, I’d gotten a thrill from it.
“I’m a jerk, Addie.” I turn to face the phone. “I’m the worst sort of friend and I don’t know how to face Elijah and…”
I’m breathing too quickly as I watch Addie reaching for her phone. The next time she speaks, her face is closer to the screen and her big eyes are giving me that compassionate look that’s going to be my undoing. “You’re a great friend, Noelle. To all of us. Including Elijah.”
I shake my head because she won’t understand.
I barely understand!
All I know is, while some part of me is counting the seconds until he shows up because I hate how we left things and I need to see him again so I can feel all right, another part of me wants to call him and cuss him out. “He kissed Jordan, Addie.”
“Um…what?”
Poor Addie looks stricken as she tries to keep up with me. But my mind and my emotions are like a whirling dervish. I can barely keep up with my wild mood swings and racing thoughts. Addie doesn’t stand a chance. And yet, I need to talk to someone, and Addie is my best bet.
I’d normally go running to Elijah when I feel out of control like this. When I feel lost and like I don’t know which way is up and which is down.
These are the moments I’d show up at Elijah’s house, and he’d welcome me in—to sit on his couch or lie on his bed—and he’d let me chill and relax. And he’d make me feel grounded again.
And then, if and when I was good and ready, he’d listen if I wanted to talk.
But I can’t talk to him about this, and it’s killing me.
“He kissed Jordan,” I say again, like maybe it’ll make more sense if I repeat myself. “After he almost kissed me.”
“Oh,” Addie drawls in a knowing tone.
I’m frowning down at the shoes in my hand. “But maybe he didn’t try to kiss me, you know? Maybe I got it all wrong.”
