Chapter 25
25
MADDIE
J ames’s lips press against mine, and the sparks dancing on my back evaporate. The tension curling through me unwinds. The flutter through my nerves dies, and the buzzing in my chest fizzles out.
His lips feel dull as they slant against mine, his hand feels inert on the side of my neck.
I kiss him back, wondering if maybe it takes a second to feel a kiss the way I should be feeling it. The way I’ve always imagined feeling it. But even as he angles the kiss deeper, nothing happens.
Disappointment slices into my chest and settles heavy in my stomach.
This doesn’t feel right.
There’s nothing wrong with what James is doing. His lips caress mine with a gentle firmness that indicates he has experience. He’s not insistently trying to coax his tongue into my mouth or running his hands all over my body.
And yet, I have to struggle against an overpowering instinct to recoil from his touch.
I can’t stop the feeling from throttling through me that what’s happening right now is a mistake.
Your first kiss wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The words thunder through me from somewhere in the back of my head.
I pull away with a sudden jolt. James’s eyes open, and concern laces through them.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Guilt sinks into me. I’m freaking out over a kiss I obviously invited, recoiling from James like I’m allergic to him. And he doesn’t react by being annoyed, or frustrated, or angry. His features wear a concern that’s obviously genuine.
He’s a nice guy, and that only makes this all feel so much worse, because if I can’t get into a kiss even with a guy like him, what hope do I have?
“Yeah,” I answer, dropping my gaze to my lap. “Just … a headache. Suddenly. Really bad.” I rub my temples to sell the blatant lie.
“Oh,” James says, worry still evident in his voice. “Do you need a drink? Some aspirin?”
I stand up. “No. I should just go home and rest.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Doubt is evident in his voice, and I can’t blame him. If you’re in the middle of kissing somebody and they suddenly jump away from you and claim to have a headache, it must raise some questions. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”
“My dorm is close. I’ll be fine.”
“Alright. Good.” The awkwardness of the situation is bearing down on me from all sides, and his words make it clear he’s feeling the same. “Talk to you later?”
I nod. “Of course. Thanks for …” I stop myself, unsure what I was even about to say. “Sorry. These headaches. They come randomly sometimes. See you later.”
I walk quickly through the house and out the front door. My gaze is fixed on my feet in front of me as I wander aimlessly, hopelessly trying to collect the scattered thoughts rumbling through my brain.
A sharp ache twinges in my chest, negative emotions winding through my body. The one feeling that gnaws the strongest at me is regret.
It’s a purely emotional reaction. In reality, there was nothing at all wrong about my kiss with James. And yet, as I think back on it, a sharp sorrow sings through me, an almost tragic kind of sadness.
Your first kiss wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The words that blared in my head come back to me. But how can I make sense of them?
James is nice, caring, we have a lot in common, we get along, we have things to talk about … by any objective criteria, I couldn’t design a more fitting guy to have my first kiss with, to potentially be my first boyfriend.
But I know why kissing him made alarm bells go off in the recesses of my mind and at the bottom of my heart. It’s a simple reason.
He wasn’t Rhys.
I know I need to get past the idea of being with Rhys. I’ve been telling myself that practically all my life, and especially so this semester. But … are all my firsts going to be this disappointing? Are all my firsts going to feel so … wrong?
Maybe there’s only one way to avoid that.
Only one way to move on from my obsession with Rhys that’s already spoiled my first kiss; only one way to keep it from spoiling an even bigger first, from turning a moment that should be exciting and meaningful into a dismal, depressing letdown.
The thought of feeling the way I do now after losing my virginity makes the backs of my eyes prick with hot tears. I don’t want a moment like that to be steeped in regret.
But I’d never regret it if my first time was with Rhys.
I can’t get my first kiss back, but all my other firsts are still ahead of me. If they’re with Rhys, I know they wouldn’t be disappointing. They’d be mind-blowing. I wouldn’t regret those memories—I’d cherish them.
For the first time, the thought of sharing my first time with Rhys appears in my head as more than just a dream, but as a real possibility. And it feels right .
With a push of resolution, I send Rhys a text.
I need to see you.
It’s Friday night. Rhys could be anywhere. At a party, out at a bar with his teammates, with another girl. Besides, I’ve been ignoring him for a week. It’s only fair if he does the same.
I don’t expect him to get back to me until tomorrow, and by then, maybe what I’m feeling right now will wear off, and I’ll chicken out of asking him what I plan to now.
But almost instantly, he does reply.
Rhys
Where are you? I’ll be right here.
Warmth fills my chest. Even after fighting with him for a week, he’s willing to drop whatever he’s doing in an instant just because I sent him a text.
Maybe that means he really will be willing to do what I’m preparing to ask him. My heart thunders in my chest.
I tell him where I am, at a courtyard on the edge of campus. He responds instantly that he’ll be right over.
I take a deep breath and pinch myself. The pain on my arm confirms that this isn’t a dream. I’m awake. This is real. And I’m about to ask one of my best friends in the world to take my virginity.