Page 36 of I Hope This Doesn't Find
“Nah, it’s all for fun, right?” Ray replies, his smile widening. “And Sadie’s a good sport.”
Dread simmers through my veins like acid. I wring my fingers in my lap, then curl them behind my back. Nothing helps.
“Okay.” Ray claps his hands together with the pompous air of a game-show host. “We’ve decided. We dare you . . . to kiss Julius.”
My mind shuts down on itself.
I can only gape at him, unsure if this is their idea of a joke, if I’ve misheard. I must have. There’s absolutely no way they would ask it of me. Theyknowour history by now, they’ve read the emails, they know we’ve hated each other for the past ten years—
But of course, that’s exactly why they’re asking.
My gaze cuts to Julius again. I just need to see his reaction. I expect him to look disgusted by the idea, or enraged, or perhaps delighted at my imminent humiliation. But his expression is unreadable. He shows no outward emotion, and somehow that’s worse. Maybe that’s how little it affects him, how little it means. Maybe that’s how littleImatter.
It’s like there’s a stone lodged in my chest, blocking the blood from rushing to my heart.
“Well?” Ray challenges.
I swallow. Force myself to mimic Julius’s nonchalance. “Sure, why not?”
Surprised murmurs rise from the circle. Even Ray looks stunned, like he’d been waiting for me to protest.
And Julius is staring at me, his brows faintly creased. I’ve managed to catch him off guard as well. I feel a flush of victory, not so dissimilar to the thrill of finishing ahead of him in a race.
“Come on,” I say, standing up and smoothing out my skirt, praying nobody can see my hands quiver.It’s just a kiss, I tell myself.It’s just a boy.
Julius hesitates, then pushes onto his feet too. Nobody speaks; they’re all watching us, deadly focused, anticipation building like the wind before a storm. The lights seem to dim further, and the space between us feels like nothing, like twenty miles, like ghost flames.
He’s waiting. For me to make a fool of myself. For me to make the first move.
I let my anger carve away my nerves and close my eyes and kiss him. It’s so fast, so light that I only have time to register the startling softness of his lips before I’m reeling back again.
Oh my god.
I did it.
I actually did it.
The guys are laughing in the background. Someone else is calling my name, but I can’t hear them. This isn’t about them anymore. This is only about us, about the painful beat of my heart, the heat scorching my face.
Julius touches a finger to his lips like he can’t quite believe it either. Then he straightens. Cocks his head, his eyes black with cool amusement. “You call that a kiss?” he says on a scoff. His voice comes out lower than usual, and I can see the effort in the movement of his throat. “That was barely anything.”
The heat inside me flares higher, incinerating all logic and reservation. I want to slap that smug look off his face, but then I think of something even better.
“What about this, then?” I challenge, and before he can reply, I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him to me.
This time, when our lips meet, I don’t back away. I deepen the kiss, letting my fingers slide up his neck, curl into his hair. For one moment, I can feel his shock, the tension running through his frame like a heated wire, and I think:I’ve won.I’ve proven him wrong. Then he kisses me back, presses me closer, and something inside me slides off-balance.
It’s not meant to be like this.The thought is hazy, distant, lost to the sensation of his mouth on mine.
Because I was lying to myself before. Julius isn’t just a boy. He’s my enemy. My equal. My point of comparison. He’s the one I’m constantly trying to outrun, to outsmart, to impress. He’s the ever-moving target in my peripheral vision, the person I’ve mapped all my plans around, the start and finish line and everything in between. All my dreams and nightmares are about him and only him.
I can’t concentrate. The most terrible part of this is that it doesn’t feel terrible at all; not the warm flush of his skin against mine or the firmness of his grip or the breathless sound in the back of his throat.
I want to stay like this.
I want to keep going.
As soon as I think it, white-hot panic jolts through me, reviving the little common sense I have left.No.No, I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t be doing this at all. I push against his chest and he lets go instantly, eyes wide, hands dropping to his sides as if he’s been jerked out of a daze.
