Page 61 of Ecstasy
If Alex had asked my mother before he dated me, I would have punched him. If my mom had believed for half a second, I neededherpermission to date someone, I might’ve punched her, too.
God, I’m a bitch.
But I can also recognize when another girl is genuinely happy, and Kylie is definitely that. “I’m happy for you,” I tell her, and I do actually mean it. I just wish I had that. Not the parental permission thing because that’s much too southern for me, and I’m a fucking Southerner, but the happiness part.
Alex makes me happy.
He also pisses me off.
I’m sure the feeling is entirely mutual.
“Yeah, he’s the best,” Kylie gushes, still riding high in her little love bubble. Whatever Eli was insinuating last night, he’s full of it. Ian is a nice guy. He’s got blonde hair and glasses and a boyish face, and he seems perfect for Kylie.
Maybe that’s the problem.
Maybe there’s no one that’s perfect for me because I’m a fucking freak. And not just in the sexy way. Mainly, in fact, in the unsexyway.
Kylie cocks her head, holds up one finger like she’s listening for something. It’s pretty quiet in Oasis. Kind of too early for the lunch rush, so this place is nearly empty. I don’t know what the fuck she’s trying to hear.
Then she grins again, and I hear it.
A ringtone coming from her pink backpack.
Bella’s Lullabyfrom the Twilight soundtrack.
“That’s Ian!” she says excitedly. She pulls the phone out of the front pocket of her backpack and swipes to answer the call.
This is my cue to leave.
I stand to my feet after I slide out of the booth, grabbing my backpack. “See you tonight,” I tell her, and she finger waves to me, caught up in the bliss of young, non-fucked up love.
Must be fucking nice.
18
Eli
Wednesday night,I’m walking out of the gym from practice, duffel bag slung over my shoulder when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I hear the guys behind me talking, and someone asks if I want to grab dinner.
I ignore them, walking toward the fountain outside of the gym as I pull my phone out.
Zara’s name flashes on the screen. Since late Sunday night, or early Monday morning, I guess, we haven’t texted. I know she met Alex for lunch on Tuesday because he told me about it last night. But he said he’s not really ready to trust her again.
If it’s up to me, he won’t, ever again.
It’s dark outside already, kind of cool for mid-September, and as I unlock my phone, I feel a chill run through my body, wicking the sweat from practice away.
Her:Tell me about Kylie and Alex.
I smile at my screen. So maybe she wants to try to trust me now. I shrug off my bag, setting it on the concrete ledge of the fountain.
Me:What do you want to know?
She replies immediately, and I wonder what she’s doing. I want to see her and Alex went to the bar with Dwight for wing night.
Would she come over, if I asked her?
She’s probably pissed I lied to Alex, but I don’t care. I’ve been waiting for her for too fucking long. I don’t want to wait anymore.
