Page 31 of Last First Kiss
Fuck.
My mom says one thing—just one—and suddenly it’s like a dam has broken and all these confusing feelings are rushing in out of nowhere.
I don’t even know where they’re coming from. Were they always there, buried under everything else? Or am I so used to second-guessing myself that now I can’t tell the difference between other people’s perspectives and my own?
CHAPTER TEN
CLARA
Alejandra comes home pale-faced, eyes wide and unfocused.
I immediately worry. My mind is conjuring up every worst-case scenario it can think of. She’s been gone for hours, and now she’s barely looking at me.
The last time she came home like this—red eyes, tense shoulders—it was right after a huge fight with Mia. That was the night they’d broken up for good, and the whole house had felt off after that, like the air had been sucked out of it.
I follow her into my room, trying to be there for her, reaching for her to hug and reassure her, but she keeps slipping out of my arms. She’s pacing around the room, murmuring to herself so low I can barely hear what she’s saying.
I watch her pace for what seems like hours, before finally pulling her down and sitting her on the bed.
“What is going on?” I ask, trying to be as gentle as possible, but I hear the tension in my voice. It’s hard to stay calmwhen something is clearly wrong, and she’s not talking to me.
“Do you think you’ll ever want to be in a relationship?” she asks.
My eyebrows shoot up. I wasn’t expectingthatto be what’s had her pacing around the house.
I open my mouth, but the words stall on my tongue. “I—I don’t know,” I finally say through a thick swallow. “Lately, I’ve been thinking it’s not the worst idea, but ... I don’t know. Sometimes I think if I were meant to be with someone, I would’ve met her by now. Or at least met someone who makes me forget—”you, I almost say. But I stop myself in time. “Everything and everyone,” I finally say after a long pause.
A hollowness I’ve never felt before starts to form in the pit of my stomach, spreading slowly and steadily, wrapping itself around my ribs.
Alejandra is quiet, and I can’t bring myself to make eye contact. When I start to worry I’ve made things weird, she laughs nervously. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to settle down.”
The tension in my chest eases a little. “Sometimes I still don’t think I will. But ... I don’t know. I kind of hope I do,” I say, as I draw circles on her palm with my thumb.
The words catch me off guard. I wasn’t expecting them to mean so much. I’ve never craved that kind of connection. Never longed for it the way most people do. I’ve always felt like, if it wasn’t with Alejandra, then what was the point? Somewhere along the way, I got so detached from what I was feeling, so tired of wanting something I couldn’t have, that I stopped trying to connect in any real way. I started chasing physical closeness instead. Enough to make me feel something without actuallyfeelinganything.
But lately, something’s shifted. The pull to feel what everyone else seems to hold so dear is stronger. I’ve spent so long dodging love, convinced no one stood a chance. Always waiting in some corner of my heart forher. But the truth is, these feelings I have for Alejandra only cause me pain, and I need to move on.
“You don’t think you could fall for someone?” she asks softly.
I hesitate. I don’t want to say no. Fuck, Ihopeit’s not no, but doubt slips in anyway. I’ve never fallen for anyone the way I’ve fallen for her, so how can I know?
“I don’t know,” I admit, forcing a smile. “How about you?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the pit growing in my stomach.
“Do you think that it could ever be me?” she asks, completely disregarding my question.
I stare at her, confused, not sure I heard her correctly. “What?” I choke out, my voice catching on the word as my chest tightens.
“Have you ever wanted to date me?” she clarifies, her eyes steady on mine, waiting.
My thoughts swirl at a dizzying pace. I stare at her, unsure of what to say.
She tilts her head. “Just please tell me.”
My cheeks warm. My mouth moves before my brain can catch up, completely ignoring the screaming “yes!” in my head.
“No,” I say, but the word feels wrong on my tongue.
I watch her face for a reaction, any flicker of disappointment or doubt, but I can’t read her as easily as usual right now.
