Chapter 13
Stella
No sooner have I pulled on a sweater that is, unfortunately, not stolen than Hazel and Nessa come knocking at my door.
I set my cute yellow kettle to boil on the stove as the girls pull out pastries, and for some reason, popcorn.
I self-consciously tug on my collar, hoping that between it and my hair that I’ve left down, my hickeys won’t be noticeable.
I have never regretted not owning a turtle neck until now.
I join them in the middle of the room, them on the little loveseat I found outside of the building on moving day and me on my bed.
“So, how did you survive the storm?” Nessa asks, her mouth full of pain au chocolat.
“She stayed with James, I told you that,” Hazel says, mildly confused.
“Oh! I totally thought you were joking about that. You really stayed with him?” She turns to me, her shock painted across her face.
“Yeah, I stayed until it was safe to uber home yesterday.” I give her a quick rundown of the shop’s power dying, Maria not being at home, and James finding me outside.
“Well, that’s nice of him, if not entirely out of character,” Nessa says, once I’ve given her the sanitized version that in no way implies I sat naked in her brother’s lap for any part of it.
“Is he not normally that friendly?”
“Not with women he isn’t sleeping with,” Nessa snorts. I try my darndest to keep the blush from my face, jumping up to grab tea for everyone. “He doesn’t like having people in his space in general. Even as a kid, there was a ‘no girls allowed’ sign on his bedroom door.”
“So, he’s always been that surly? I thought maybe he grew into it,” Hazel says sipping on a coffee she brought for herself.
“Pretty sure he exited the womb scowling,” Nessa jokes.
“Well, I slept on his couch and played cards until I could get out of there.”
“So you’ve just been hanging out at home since then?” She seems suspicious.
“Yup! I caught an uber home and watched tv.” I hope I’m coming off as nonchalant.
“Because you are very… glowy for someone who spent the night at my brother’s house.”
“She does look glowy,” Hazel chimes in.
“Well, I’ve been alone since I got home, so I’m not sure what you’re talking about.
” I am totally sweating from the stress of this moment, and also the most glorious morning orgasms, but I need to play this off.
Apparently, I’m not that discrete, though, as I fix the neck of my sweater conspicuously.
“Oh my god, look at your neck! Look at her neck! You totally got laid! How?” Hazel gasps, her excitement pouring over.
“If you have to ask that, I don’t think Beck is doing his job right…” Nessa quips. Hazel throws a piece of popcorn at her, which Nessa catches in her mouth. She pumps her eyebrows before turning to me.
“Alright, spill. How big was his dick?”
I nearly swallow my tongue in horror as I scramble to find an acceptable response.
If only she knew who she’s talking about…
“I’m more concerned with who it was!” Hazel cuts her off, fully invested.
“It doesn’t matter!” I shout before I realize my mistake. “I mean, nothing happened. Seriously. TV, food, and hanging out at home.” Both of their faces break out in massive grins as they realize my slip up.
I am not getting out of this. I break out in a nervous sweat, furiously cursing myself for never being able to control a facial expression.
“Wait a second!” Hazel’s eyes widen with realization. “You’re not on a dating app…”
“And James would never,” Nessa picks up on her train of thought. “No offence.”
Some taken. I have no idea whatsoever what they’re getting at.
“You totally banged your uber driver!” Hazel and Nessa are both freaking out now. This is possibly the worst and best thing that could have happened for two reasons.
One, I get to have girl talk with my friends—except I have to lie about it.
Two, neither of them think it’s even a possibility that I could have slept with James, which is kind of insulting.
I literally can’t lose. But also, ouch.
“Okay, now that we’ve settled that I really need to know how big his dick was!”
“Jesus, Nessa, be less horny, would you?” Hazel says as she thwaps her with a pillow. “Stella, you are under no obligation to tell us anything about your uber driver sexcapades.”
“Agree to disagree,” Nessa retorts. “Actually though, how was it? Are you sore? Was it good? Did you pee after? That’s really important, you don’t want a UTI.”
I have no idea how to respond to the barrage of questions being hurled at me, or how to lie and make it believable.
Stick as close to the truth as possible while leaving out as much detail as possible.
“Umm… it was good?” Hazel and Nessa’s faces fall and I backtrack.
“I mean, great! It was great. He umm… made sure I was good and, you know, got where I needed to go.” More than a couple of times.
“And yes, yes, and yes to the aforementioned questions.” I’m staring into my tea now, refusing to look at either of them.
I’m usually an open book, but in this case, the less these two know, the better it will be in the long run.
Especially if Nessa finds out.
Nope. She’s not going to find out.
“You’re no fun at this,” Nessa states while shoving almost an entire pastry in her mouth. “We wanted sordid details, and this is just the CliffsNotes.” I don’t know how she manages to talk around that much food in her mouth. I laugh at her. “Usually we can’t get you to shut up! What gives?”
“There’s not that many details to give. As far as a first time goes, I have no complaints.”
Hazel tilts her head. “Do you think you’ll hook up again?” The question is gentle.
“Nah. We agreed it would be the one time.” Five times. It was five times.
They don’t need to know that. I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of the ache that still exists between my legs.
“But you said it was great?” Hazel’s face is scrunched up in confusion. “You wouldn’t even go on a date with him?” I huff, flopping back onto the bed.
“I could, but what would be the point? You know?”
“To get to know each other? To see if you’re compatible and want to make something work between the two of you? Happily ever after and babies and houses?” I know Hazel thinks she’s being helpful, but her pressing is starting to annoy me.
“To fuck again,” Nessa points out.
“Do you know the likelihood that this guy is going to be the love of my life? I’m nineteen, the odds of it working out are so freaking low. What’s the point?”
“Honey,” Hazel puts her frigid hand on my ankle, which I know is supposed to be a comfort, but it’s so icy that it’s effortful not to pull away.
“It’s not about the guarantee of it working out, it’s life experience.
And you don’t need it,” she says, holding up a finger to Nessa before she can start talking about why I DO need it, “but you don’t have to deprive yourself of it either, just because it might not lead to ‘til death do us part.’”
“When my mother died, my dad disappeared into himself.” The room falls deadly silent.
I’ve never shared much family information with them.
With my current life, my hopes and dreams, I’m an open book.
My parents are the one thing I’ve always kept to myself.
“It was like he died with her. He didn’t talk for almost a month.
I had to do all the cooking and cleaning, make sure bills were paid, get myself to school. It destroyed him.”
I remember screaming at him to get up, forcing him to eat, calling the doctor to come check on him when he was too weak to move. His eyes were these sunken pits, ringed purple. He lost so much weight we had to buy him new clothes, his old ones kept falling off of him. He was a shell of himself.
When he finally did speak to me, every word was laced with pain, like he was coughing up barbed wire.
“I’m so sorry, star girl. I didn’t mean to get this bad.” His voice is scratchy from disuse.
“I missed you,” I say, huddling up next to him in the bed. I’m shaking with exhaustion. His thin arms hold me close, stroking my hair.
“I missed you, too.” His chest rattles with each breath. “I don’t know how to be without her. She was my light, my moon. I don’t know how to live in the dark.”
I don’t either, and yet I’ve been living in the dark for weeks.
“And the relationships I’ve seen… I mean, people cheat on each other, people leave, people die, people fall out of love.
I’m not saying it would be a waste of time to date right now, but I’ve seen how much that can hurt.
I don’t want to invite that kind of pain into my life if I don’t need it.
I’m happy on my own, I have plans to travel, which would be difficult with a partner.
I don’t need anything romantic, I’m good.
” I tilt my head to smile at them, which is probably not as reassuring as I’m going for.
“That’s one way to view it I guess…” Hazel trails off. I can tell she wants to say more.
“Let your freak flag fly, girlfriend,” Nessa says, shrugging it off, then climbs up on the bed next to me and snuggles in. “What’re you up to for the rest of the day?”
“Not sure… I was thinking of just binging the newest Bridgerton season? I started watching it and I’m kind of hooked now.” That had been my original plan before these two invited themselves over.
“Oh nice! Don’t tell him I told you this, but James is a HUGE Bridgerton fan. We watched season one together and loved it.”
Is my face red? It feels red. Please don’t be red. Don’t be red.
“Really? I would have never guessed.” My voice squeaks. “What about you? What’re your plans for this fine, snowy afternoon?” Maybe changing the focus of the conversation away from me will help.
“I’m helping Beck get the café in order to open tomorrow, nothing wild.” Hazel says, serenely sipping her coffee.
“I have a date of sorts.” Nessa grins.
“A date?” Finally, a topic that isn’t me.
“Yeah, very similar to your uber date,” she says, winking.
That didn’t last long.
“Have fun,” I chortle.
“And use protection!” Hazel says, giving in and joining the cuddle puddle.
“Yes, Mom.” Nessa sticks her tongue out at her.
“Who is it?” asks Hazel. “Anyone we know?” She grins like she has a hunch, but I’m completely in the dark. “A certain blue-haired bassist maybe?”
Blue-haired bassist?
Nessa must see the confusion on my face because she explains. “Ugh, there’s this super cute guy, Nick, and I’ve been DYING to try him out, but he’s in a band with my brother and apparently I’m ‘off limits’ to people he knows. Freaking prison guard.”
“I’m sure he’s just protective,” I offer. It’s not a lie either, James would happily pummel anyone who hurt Nessa, that’s clear as day.
“I know, and I totally get it. Like, I’m protective of him too.
Still…” she trails off, her eyes going dreamy.
“But no, unfortunately, no hot musician sex for me. There’s a girl I met on a dating app and she invited me to a party.
How long does one have to stay at a party before it’s appropriate to tell her I’d rather go back to her place and make her come repeatedly?
” Shocked laughs burst out of Hazel and me as we debate what a realistic timeline would be.
I’m not heavily invested, just insanely relieved to have the focus off of me.
They don’t stay much longer, everyone drifting off to do their own things. I do end up snuggling down with more Bridgerton, eager to watch Penelope and Colin screw up in the most spectacular of ways. It doesn’t sit right with me though.
Every time Colin does something stupid, I want to text James. Whenever Penelope stands up for herself, I want to text James. When there’s a boring scene, I want to text James. It’s driving me insane.
You barely know him. Stop getting so attached. You do not need to text him.
I think about texting Hazel before I remember how much her and Beck need to get done today. I don’t want to be a distraction. I put my phone on the floor, far out of my reach to avoid the temptation.
I can’t get my mind off of him. I only saw him this morning and something in me aches for him. I like winding him up and cracking his cranky exterior. I want to see the silly James again, the one who ran out in the snow because I dared him to but gets mad about me walking home alone in the cold.
I stare at my phone, wondering what I would even say if I did text him.
‘Who’s your favourite Bridgerton couple?’
‘What’s your favourite kind of muffins? I’ll make them for you at the café.’
‘When did you turn into a sex god? Or are you a natural at conjuring orgasms?’
Ugh, I’m pathetic. I need to refocus on my goals and make it happen. I look around my room at my postcards, each boasting a different foreign city, each with its own allure. This is where I’m going, what I want. No one is going to keep me from it.