Chapter 7
DANNY CHOKES ON HIS DRINK, SPITTING HALF OF IT OVER the white fabric of his T-shirt. Amber drops slide down his chin, hitting the floor as he leans forward, trying to avoid getting more soda down the front of his shirt. Coughing loudly, he wipes his chin with the back of his hand.
“Excuse me?”
His reaction knocks a brick of confidence from me, but it’s too late to back down.
I collect every ounce of courage left in my cells and straighten my back.
This is the first, and possibly only, time I’ve felt the urge to confront him about The Incident.
If I shy away and tell him to forget I ever mentioned it, I’ll never get my answers.
I’ll be boarding a plane to LA soon and going far away from him.
So this is it.
It’s now or never.
Besides, if I’m a bad kisser, I would welcome the feedback.
If only for the benefit of my future partner.
Knowing I need more guidance in that area could prove to be beneficial.
I don’t have a lot of experience, but I consider myself a quick learner.
Receiving criticism is crucial to my learning process.
“Last year, we shared a moment. I kissed you, and from what I can tell, you absolutely hated it. Considering you say you find me somewhat attractive—”
“Beautiful,” Danny corrects. “I said you’re beautiful, Mabel.”
I gulp.
“Yeah, well, considering you’ve said it’s not that, then my next theory is that you think I’m a bad kisser,” I conclude, offering my explanation in simple terms. Tackling the subject directly is easier than tiptoeing around it. “If I am, I would like to know. Please.”
I wince at myself for adding please at the end. Being polite isn’t something I should be concerned with right now. I know Abuela would probably clutch her rosary at the way I’m talking to him. Or perhaps she lost all faith in me from the moment I pulled Danny in for a kiss last year.
Danny’s demeanor changes entirely. His shoulders grow stiffer, tightening under his shirt, and he suddenly seems taller. The curve of his lips flattens into a thin line. A cloud of emotion covers his honey eyes, and his real feelings. I haven’t witnessed him look so serious in a very long time.
Mala mía.
This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have said anything or even thought about bringing the topic up when I’m not prepared to face the consequences of my actions.
I guess that has always been a problem; I tend to act without having a back-up plan for dealing with the consequences.
There’s a thin line between believing you can handle a truth and actually being ready for it. But, goddammit, I want to move on.
I can’t keep holding a lit candle for Danny when there’s doubt lingering in the back of my brain.
“Mabel . . .”
“I can handle it,” I lie, faking a smile to go along with the faux confidence in my voice. “You can just rip the Band-Aid off and we’ll never talk about it again.”
This last part isn’t a complete lie because I’ll never talk to him again. Besides, what is there to lie about? It wouldn’t make a difference. We didn’t stay in touch after that moment either way.
Danny scrubs his eyes with his left hand and then scratches the back of his neck.
Great. I’ve made him uncomfortable.
“I don’t think we should have this conversation,” he says in a lower voice, the octave vibrating under my ribcage. “Not right now.”
I raise my brows. Frustration clogs my airways.
“When then?” I press, sounding choked. Desperate. “We’ve been avoiding it for so long. I want to know, Danny. Please.”
He glances around, avoiding my eyes at all costs. I follow his gaze in an attempt to discover what he’s looking for. No one is taking any notice of us. People are too focused on flirting with each other before the buzzer goes off again. Even Cerys and Bethan seem to be locked in their conversation.
“Maybe not here,” he gives in.
“Why not?”
“It’s too public,” he states.
His words hit me in the gut, leaving me breathless for a second.
“You don’t want to be seen with me,” I conclude after a beat.
Danny rolls his eyes, annoyance printed boldly in the small action.
Whoa, where did that come from? The initial confusion has faded from his expression, and it’s replaced by a mix of frustration and a slight blush on his cheeks.
I can’t decipher if they’re red from anger or embarrassment.
Or both. I would feel bad about putting him in an awkward position if it weren’t for the fact that he seems to be uncomfortable at being seen with me.
His nostrils flare slightly. This is a different side to him, a new flavor of Danny to add to the mix.
“Why do you always assume I don’t want to be seen with you?” he snaps, roughly gritting the words out. “I find it quite insulting. I’ve always been nothing but proud of you and our friendship. If anything, you’re the one who’s always avoided me in public.”
I take a step back. “Me? Are you serious?”
Danny takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a few seconds. When he finally looks at me, his irises have softened around the edges. They’re silently pleading.
“Mabs,” he says my name softly, almost as if he were caressing it with his lips.
“I don’t want to talk about this in public because it’s a private matter.
It’s not due to shame. I just want to respect you and our privacy.
” His explanation is clear, and it makes perfect sense.
I can see the logic behind his reasoning, and I appreciate it.
“Let’s find somewhere we can talk about this, okay? Preferably before the buzzer goes off.”
He might’ve been a seer in another life because as soon as he finishes talking, the buzzer goes off again, silencing the crowd. But although people start moving around us, Danny’s gaze stays locked on my face, awaiting my response.
Before someone appears to drag Danny away like they did with Aidan, I move. For the first time in forever, I seek his touch and grab a hold of his arm, right over his green wristband. His arm is warm and the skin of my palm tingles with the urge to move higher where I can squeeze his muscles.
Danny’s sight drops to the spot where our limbs are connected. I almost expect him to pull away from me because his behavior was so serious just a minute ago, but he doesn’t. He just . . . waits.
I examine our surroundings, spotting the people I care about. Cerys is still talking to Bethan, both disregarding the event. Carmen is standing with a guy I don’t recognize, but she seems to be into it. Her posture is relaxed and she’s smiling and batting her lashes at him.
An idea sparks in my mind.
“I think I know somewhere we can go.”
Without letting go of me, he gestures to the entrance—or exit, in this case—with his head.
“Lead the way.”
I try not to think about the fact that we’ll have to go through the love tunnel together as we abandon the backyard.
It’s almost poetic to think I’ll go through it with Danny before he inevitably shuts me off.
I inhale deeply, hoping to find some courage for what’s to come.
My expectations are sprawling, with no sense of direction or what to prepare myself for.
The only thing I’m sure of is that I’ll have a bruised ego.
As much as I want to be mad at my sister for consistently leaving her bedroom door unlocked, I’m thankful when I twist the doorknob and it gives in without protest from the lock.
The door opens smoothly, and I step to the side to let Danny in.
In silence, I wait for him to walk past me.
I make the mistake of breathing as he does, and the woodsy scent of his cologne makes my knees grow weak. A shiver runs down my spine.
Looking for a distraction, I shut the door with trembling hands and examine the state of Carmen’s room.
This was the only place I could think of for what he wanted.
It’s the perfect spot to have a conversation without being interrupted or seen.
I also appreciate the silence. The music is barely a murmur in the background, not nearly loud enough to make us raise our voices, which I think covers Danny’s request for privacy.
I don’t think Carmen will come here any time soon.
She was always one of the last ones to leave a Kappa party, so I doubt this will be the exception to her rule.
Knowing her, when it finishes she’ll head directly to the afterparty.
Not that it will make any difference—I doubt this will take more than a handful of minutes.
This is Danny’s way of letting me down gently, making sure I don’t suffer any public humiliation. He’s too much of a gentleman for that.
I ignore the mess that Carmen left behind when she was getting ready, judging by all the makeup and clothes spilled over the bed.
Instead, I focus on the possibilities. The gears in my brain start working on what other reasons there are for Danny not wanting me back.
Other than me being a terrible kisser, which is something fixable.
Even if I were bad at it, he could’ve taught me.
He used to be a tutor, so he’s patient and has teaching experience.
So . . . what else? It’s not a matter of beauty. Or at least that’s what he said.
“So, am I a bad kisser?” I repeat my question as I seek something to keep my hands occupied. A way to channel the bundle of nerves.
Danny rolls his eyes once again.
“It’s not about that.”
I pull out the bag of candy and set it on Carmen’s nightstand. I turn around and grab a dress from the bed and fold it. I can’t keep looking at him when he’s being difficult. Why won’t he say what he needs to say and get it over with?
“That’s not good enough. Why won’t you tell me?”
As I organize Carmen’s stuff, I come to a sudden realization.
Cerys.