Chapter 14 #2
Margot may have had more to drink than anyone. She’s currently sitting on Preston Wright’s shoulders, pumping her arms to the booming music. She’s smiling. Laughing. And that alone makes me feel better about coming.
I’m still watching her when a group of guys show up. They’re singing a birthday song to her, voices loud and undoubtedly drunk.
I find Elliot immediately. He’s always been tall for his age, and he’s almost a head taller than the other boys. I scan through the faces of his friends, shoulders relaxing when I confirm Harrison isn’t with them.
Margot claps and hollers as they approach, shimmying off Preston’s shoulders to meet the group of boys. They hug and chat, and I feel pathetic watching from the shadows.
It’s my own fault. If I forced myself over there, Margot would be nothing but kind. And maybe, if I played it just right, this party could mark the night other people accepted me too. Maybe I could finally fit in. Make friends. Be happy.
I tuck my knees to my chest.
“Pathetic,” I whisper. Because even now, I know I’m not going over there.
I can too easily imagine everyone’s faces if I did.
Some would be annoyed, some angry, but the most hurtful would be the ones who were scared.
The nice kids, who stay away not because they hate me, but because they’re terrified I’ll kill them.
The group of guys disperses through the party, until it’s only Elliot and Margot together. They’d make a lovely couple. She’s tall enough he’d barely have to lean to kiss her. And they’re both unjustly beautiful and kind and—
Oh no.
Margot points over at me, and Elliot’s head snaps my way. He lifts a hand, and it takes all my nerve just to wave back. A beautiful grin stretches over his features. Waving was a mistake. Now he’s coming over here.
Out of pity. Out of mercy. I don’t know.
My stomach twists into a hideous knot. Because, yes, I’m an undeniable outcast, sitting alone at a party. That’s fine. Doable. Normal.
Elliot witnessing this and pitying it is so, so much worse.
“Hey Secora,” he says. He’s smiling as he reaches me, words slurring softly. There’s a slight haze over his eyes, like he’s perfectly intoxicated. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Margot invited me,” I say. My voice is rushed, defensive. I can’t help it, just like I can’t help the flare of blush that scours my cheeks.
“I know,” he says. He laughs, and it soothes something in my chest. “I figured you wouldn’t want to come. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve been here sooner.”
My face burns hotter.
“You don’t have to look out for me,” I say. I untangle my knees from my chest, hoping it makes me look less pathetic. “No one has bothered me. I promise.”
“I like looking out for you,” he says. He sits in the dirt beside me with far less grace than he normally would. He bumps against my side, and his face is too close to mine. It’s impossible to think straight.
“I know,” I say. I gently ease back, creating much-needed distance. “But you don’t have to. You should be having fun with everyone else. I’m okay. I promise.”
“Maybe I’d rather have fun with you,” he says. His lips tilt lazily, and his eyes roam over my face.
My heart stops. Full on stops in my chest, until I’m convinced I might have just died. Elliot’s words may be slurring, but he’s looking at me with complete steadiness. His attention keeps snagging on my lips, and for one glorious, horrifying second, I think he’s going to kiss me.
But then, he pulls back.
“You don’t even know, do you?” he asks. He twists until his back is against the tree too. Our shoulders are touching, but at least his face isn’t so close to mine. I breathe unsteadily and he lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re impossible, Secora.”
“I don’t understand—”
He shifts again, kneeling in front of me. Bracing one hand on the trunk behind me, he uses the other to cup my face. His hazel eyes study mine, flicking occasionally to my mouth.
I suck in a breath, holding it there until it’s painful.
“Elliot—”
He runs his thumb across my lower lip, and I gasp.
Everything stops. My heart. My lungs. My thoughts.
“I’m drunk,” he says. He stares at my mouth, at his thumb still tracing my lower lip. “It’s hard to keep my thoughts in my head, so I might just let them out.”
I’m too stunned to speak. Luckily, Elliot doesn’t seem to notice.
“You’ve got the prettiest mouth,” he says. “Prettiest eyes. Prettiest everything. It’s very unfair. I don’t know how I’m supposed to concentrate when you’re this pretty. How I’m supposed to not kiss you all the time.”
His eyes drift back to mine. The warm alcohol haze is still there.
“I keep trying to ask you out,” he says quietly. His thumb swipes my lip again, moving to trace the upper one too. “You always say no. I tell myself it’s because I’m not making it clear. That you don’t realize I’m interested, and I’m too much of a coward to make sure you know.”
Elliot moves his hand from my mouth, and I almost cry out at the loss. He cups my chin, tilting me until I’m looking up at him.
“But I’m drunk now,” he says. “So if you reject me, I can hide behind my intoxication the next time I see you. We can pretend it was only a joke.”
“Is it?” I ask. My voice is shaking, and I’m dizzy from the fact he’s still touching me. That Elliot Lyrie is touching me and saying these impossible things. “Is it a joke?”
“No,” he says. His thumb is back on my lip, and his throat bobs as he swallows.
“Because if it’s a joke, it’s not funny,” I whisper. “You obviously know I wouldn’t reject you, so if this is an ego thing—”
He kisses me. So suddenly I’m not prepared for it. One moment, I’m rambling, and the next, his lips are on mine. Soft and warm and sure. He’s kissing with the confidence of someone who has kissed a lot of people, and I’m scrambling to keep up.
Our teeth clank. Our noses bump. I’m trembling so hard I can’t concentrate on what I’m doing.
“You’re shaking,” he says, pulling back abruptly. The alcohol haze is still in his eyes, but there’s intensity there too. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” I say, and tomorrow, I’ll be mortified at how needy I sound. “I just—I don’t know how.”
“You’re doing good,” he says. He brushes his thumb across my jawline. “I can slow down if you want.”
I shake my head.
“Just…I’ve never done it,” I say. As if he hasn’t figured that out, as if he doesn’t already know. “Tell me if it’s not good.”
“It’s good,” he says. Then he kisses me again, slower, firmer.
His lips taste sharp, like the alcohol he’s been drinking.
I wouldn’t know how to name it, but I decide it’s my favorite flavor in the world.
Between soft presses of his lips, he whispers.
“It’s so good, Secora. So fucking good. I knew it would be. ”
With shaking hands, I grab the shoulders of his shirt, pulling him closer. I don’t let myself think beyond this moment, not about whether he meant what he said. Not about whether he’ll regret it once he’s sober.
I lose track of the minutes, of the hours. I have no idea how much time has passed, only that my lips are numb by the time he pulls away. He places a hand over my head, against the tree, briefly scanning my face before looking over his shoulder.
It’s only then I realize why he stopped.
“Sorry, Secora and I have to go,” Margot says. Her voice slurs and she breaks into a fit of giggles. She stumbles to the side into my line of sight. She’s grinning at me, and when she gives me a cheesy thumbs up, I’m certain I’ll implode from humiliation.
“All right, give us a second,” Elliot says. “I’ll walk her over.”
Margot giggles again and stumbles across the rocky shore. I realize most of the party has taken off, leaving only a handful of stragglers. I wonder how many people saw Elliot kissing me.
A lot, probably.
“Is it a joke?” I ask again. My voice cracks, and I’m horrified at the tear that slips down my cheek.
Now that I’ve already made the leap, I’m terrified it was the wrong decision.
I acted out of desperation, out of neediness, rather than logic.
If this was a ruse, some elaborate plan by the popular kids, I’m not sure I’ll survive it.
“No, it’s not a joke,” he says. He kisses me again, and this time, his tongue swipes out, darting across my bottom lip. When I gasp against his mouth, he smiles. “I’ll take you on a proper date, all right? We’ll go on a date, and then I’ll teach you how to kiss with tongue.”