Page 83 of Our Secret Moments

THIRTY-ONE

CAT

“I’M SWOONING.”

Hey, wanna hang out?

I look downat the message lighting up my phone and I don’t know why I hesitate. Apart from hanging out with my girls and spending time with Connor, I’ve been holed up in my room trying my hardest to perfect this article.

Surprisingly, I care alotmore about this project than anything I’ve ever done for Rotford’s class. I never thought I would be this interested in sports, but for some reason, I find myself having the absolute time of my life. As much as it stresses me the fuck out and it takes me hours to string a sentence together, looking back on it makes me realise just how much fun I’ve had in the last few weeks.

But, I do miss being able to have a real conversation with George in our seminars and lectures. Even when I’m in class, my mind is wandering away from me, thinking about the assignments I need to complete and a brown haired football player who won’t leave my brain.

The thanksgiving break was a God-send, but settling back into the school routine has been torture. Luckily, I know just the person who can ease that transition.

It only took a few more messages exchanged between George and I before we ended up at one of the cafe’s on campus. It’s tucked away at the back of the humanities building – so small you’d probably miss it, but we’ve been coming here a regular amount since freshman year. Only now I feel like a stranger sipping my hot cocoa across from him in the corner of the room.

“It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” George says, ruffling his blonde hair before unwrapping his sandwich.

“Iknow,” I agree, “But I was in class yesterday.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t reallythere,” he says, waving his hands around his head to explain what he means.

I shrug. “Maybe it’s because I was too busy trying to make sure Rotford didn’t catch you sleeping.Again.”

He barks out a laugh. “That’s not what I mean.”

I don’t know why I’m hiding this from him. Even if we don’t hang out much outside of class, George is one of the kindest people I know. We’ve both told each other things we thought we'd never say out loud and we spend half of our time together giggling over stupid things. He never takes things too seriously, but I know that he can when he needs to.

He must have gotten really good at reading my mind those days I spaced out in class because when I get stuck in my head again, he waves his hand in my face, snapping me out of the trance. “Hey, what’s going on with you? This isn’t your usualI'm stressed about assignmentsface.”

I take in a deep breath, quickly scanning the almost empty room. I can tell him about Connor, right? As fun as it is keeping our secret, it’s getting pretty fucking hard not telling anyone how happy I am. Which is why I’ve decided to keep quiet in classes to not arouse suspicion.

“Can you keep a secret?” I whisper.

His eyes widen, shuffling his chair closer to mine. “Of course I can,” he says, crossing his legs before a worried expression takes over his face. “Unless you’ve killed someone, then I don’t know about that. Well… I’d have your back and everything but–”

“I’m dating Connor Bailey,” I blurt out. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now and I’m pretty sure he’s obsessed with me. I mean, I’m not complaining, but you know. The sex is so fucking good, but I don’t know how to control how I feel about him because he’s Nora’s brother, and Nora’s my best friend and I’m still working with the football team and it’s all a bigmess.”

Word vomit.

Woah.

That felt… Good.

But also slightly embarrassing given the look on George’s face. I’m sure this is the last thing he expected to happen when he suggested having a productive hang out session. Honestly, if I kept that inside me for any longer, I think I would explode.I was half-expecting Connor to want to come clean at Thanksgiving, but he’s letting me make the decision. As hard as it is keeping it from her, I’m too frightened of her reaction to tell her now. George is a step in that direction, though.

“George?” I nudge his knee with mine as he continues staring at me.

His eyes slowly soften, a mischievous smirk covering his face. “That’s why you’ve been so distracted. You’re dick-whipped.”

“I am not,” I chide, my face heating.

“You just said that the sex is, and I quote,so fucking good,”he says, practically choking on laughter. The few people that are in here turn around and when I give them a tight smile they resume what they’re doing. “Innocent my ass.”

“I never said I was innocent,” I say, crossing my arms against my chest, pouting like a baby.

“Well, you fucking acted like it,” he replies. I give him a minute to compose himself. “So, how is it?”

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