Girl at Heart

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Girl at Heart Page 15

by Kelly Oram


  “This whole thing started when Eric told me he asked Shelly to prom. When he said that, I was devastated, but not only for the reason I always thought I would be. It wasn’t just that he didn’t ask me to prom. It was that he didn’t see me as someone he could ask. He didn’t see me. He didn’t understand me. None of them did. That’s what hurt. And if I was more upset about that than him asking out another girl, then what does that mean?”

  “You know what I think it means?” Jace asks, a little pep back in his voice. “I think you’re right. I think you love him. He’s your best friend. Your family, in a way. He’s one of the most important people in your life. You love him. And you also had a crush on him. Those can be two separate things.”

  I blink several times. I never would have thought to make that distinction, but he is absolutely right. My feelings for Eric are always so confusing because they’re layered. I have more than one type of feelings for him.

  “But maybe romantically that’s all it was,” Jace says. “A crush.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Jace squeezes me tight and kisses my head again. “And now… maybe… recently…you’ve been presented with another option. And you have a new crush.” Jace’s voice is playful now, and it makes me grin. “A stronger crush,” he teases.

  I laugh. “Is that so?”

  Jace lets go of my hand and wraps both of his arms around me again, hugging me tight. I happily snuggle in. He continues with his theory. “So you still love Sullivan, but maybe now your crush on him is gone, and you like this new guy instead.”

  And there I go with the giggling. “Oh, you think so?”

  “I hope so.” He hugs me again. “But I want to know what you think.”

  I think his theory has a strong possibility of being correct. “I don’t know,” I tease. “I think I need to know more about this new guy.”

  “Well…” Jace combs his fingers through the length of my hair and starts twisting a strand around one of his fingers. “This guy isn’t really new. He’s liked you since freshman year; he just never thought he had a chance. He thought you were taken.”

  I bite my lips in an attempt to hold back my grin.

  “But he’s good-looking, he’s talented, he’s smart, he’s—”

  “Sweet?” I offer with a cheeky grin.

  I can practically hear his eye roll. “Romantic,” he corrects. “He’s an excellent French braider, and if you ask really nicely, he’ll French braid your hair for your first sleepover.”

  “Well, that settles it.”

  I pull back and look up at Jace. When our eyes meet, the silly grin slips from his face. “He sees you,” he murmurs. “The real you. The you you’ve been trying desperately to find.”

  Oh my gosh, he’s going to make me cry. My eyes are burning.

  “He liked the muffled version of you a lot. The tough girl that was a little distant and always cool under pressure. But he likes this fuller, more complete version of you a lot better.”

  Seriously! My heart is exploding. Can a heart explode? Mine’s totally exploding. A nervous giggle escapes me, and his eyes fill with heat. My mouth dries up. I swallow, and his eyes track the movement. “And that giggle,” he murmurs. “That giggle is dangerous.”

  He leans in.

  I stop breathing. Literally.

  His eyes drop to my mouth.

  My eyes close.

  I wait a second.

  Two.

  And then his lips brush mine, so softly. Softer than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  Okay, now I’m in heaven. Earlier I was just in the waiting room.

  I gasp, and he finally goes for it, leaning into me, capturing my lips in his and applying real pressure. He’s kissing me. A real, honest-to-goodness kiss. And it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  After a moment, I try to follow his lead, kissing him back. I probably suck at it, but just the fact that I’m trying seems to be enough for him. This is the best kiss ever. And I’m not just saying that because it’s my only kiss ever.

  “MOOOOOOM! Jace is making out with his girlfriend in his bedroom!”

  Jace and I snap apart. He glares at his sister while I turn red as a tomato and try to catch my breath. I have a feeling it’s going to take a while.

  “Get out of my room, Kendra!”

  The spunky eleven-year-old looks down at the threshold of Jace’s bedroom door that her toes are carefully lined up against. She folds her arms across her chest and sticks her tongue out at him. “I’m not in your room. I’m in the hallway. You’re not supposed to have girls in your room. It’s against the rules.”

  I’m so embarrassed that we were caught kissing, but I have to hold back a laugh at Jace’s little sister annoying him. It’s cute. I giggle, and Jace turns that warning look on me. “Don’t. Do not start with the giggling.” Of course, that just makes me giggle again. “Dang it, Charlie!”

  He leans in like he’s going to kiss me again, but Kendra makes sure to nip that thought in the bud. “MOM!!!!!!”

  “Ugh! Ken! Get out!” Jace chucks his pillow at his sister. She throws it back at him.

  I can’t help it. I laugh. “It’s not funny,” Jace says, but he’s trying not to laugh, too.

  He stops laughing when his mom walks up behind Kendra and gives him a look that puts both Coach and my dad to shame. Whoa.

  “What’s going on in here?” she asks. But it’s obvious she knows. The whole house—heck, the whole neighborhood—heard Kendra announce it.

  “Mom, we were just talking.”

  “They were kissing.” Thanks for that, Kendra.

  Jace cringes beneath the weight of his mother’s stare. I can’t even look her in the eye. “We were mostly talking,” he mutters. “It was one kiss. Just one.”

  “Jace, you know the rules.”

  Jace groans. “Mom, we’re both eighteen. The light was on. The door was wide open. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

  Mrs. King is not moved. She folds her arms in the same pose that the mini version of her is still doing. “And what kind of example were you setting for your younger sisters, huh? Do you want them to think it’s okay to go over to boys’ houses and make out with them in their bedrooms, on their beds?”

  Seriously, could the walls just open up and swallow me already? I want to disappear, but again, strangely, while this is humiliating, watching Jace argue with his mother is adorable, too.

  Jace sighs. “No,” he mutters, and then, surprisingly, growls, “They’d better not.”

  Mrs. King smirks, and I do the worst thing ever. I snort.

  Jace shoots me a wounded look, and Mrs. King cracks a smile. She winks at me, then leans against the open door. “Charlie, honey, it’s wonderful to have you here, and I’m glad that you and Jace are…getting along so well.” Yeah. Definitely more blushing going on. “And I’m sure he forgot to mention the house rule of no member of the opposite sex in the bedrooms…?”

  I nod quickly, totally throwing Jace under the bus. “Yeah. He conveniently left that part out.”

  She laughs. “Okay, first time pass, then. Next time, you get sent home.”

  I scramble off the bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. King shoots Jace another one of those scary Mom Looks. (So much worse than scary Dad Looks!) “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Thank you. Now go show Charlie to the basement where the girls are, and then I want you up here for the rest of the night. If I catch you down there later, you will be grounded.”

  At least now I’m not the only one blushing.

  “But I promised her I would braid her hair,” Jace argues.

  I didn’t realize that was a promise, but okay.

  Whatever retort Mrs. King had dies on her tongue as the totally random statement stumps her. She glances at me with her eyebrows raised. I shrug my shoulders. “I guess having your hair braided at a sleepover is a thing I’m supposed to experience?”

  “It’s totally a thing,” Jace says s
o seriously I nearly laugh. “And I promised her.”

  He gives his mother this pout that he’d better never use on me, because who could resist? Obviously not his mom. She huffs and throws her hands up in the air, cracking like an egg. “Oh, all right. Fine. Go. Twenty minutes. Take her downstairs, say hello, braid her hair, and then get your butt back up here and away from all those teenage girls until morning. And I mean breakfast morning. Not it’s past midnight morning.”

  Jace grins. “Promise.” He grabs me by the wrist and drags me out of the room, kissing his mother’s cheek as he leaves. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re still in trouble, rule breaker!” she calls after him.

  When Jace finally takes me down to the basement, there are seven newly-acquired best girl friends waiting to cheer me up with snacks, magazine quizzes, movies, and nail polish. Leila pounces on me the second my feet hit the soft carpet of the basement floor. “There you are! We were about to send out a search party.” She takes my sleeping bag and pillow from Jace. “I’ve got her from here. You can leave now.”

  “No way.”

  “Jace. No. This is girl time. Get out.”

  I grin. Poor Jace. Is he always so outnumbered by the women in his house? I hope at least his dad lends him moral support.

  Jace crosses his arms and plants his feet. “I promised her I would braid her hair first. She’s never had it braided before.”

  Leila halts her argument to clarify with me. “You’ve never had your hair braided?”

  I shake my head. “Not unless my mom did it when I was a little girl, but I don’t remember.”

  Leila grins. “Okay. We are definitely braiding your hair.”

  “Oh, hey, do mine too,” Stacie, the co-captain of the cheer squad, calls out from the center of the room where she’s painting her toenails.

  “I can do yours,” Mia, the other co-captain, offers.

  “Great. I’ll do Charlie’s.” Leila gives me an excited grin. “You’re seriously going to love this, too.”

  Before she can drag me away, Jace snags me around the waist and pulls my back against his chest. “Nope. Charlie’s mine.”

  “Aww,” several of the girls call out while Leila stomps her foot and whines, “Jace! This is our sleepover.”

  “Sorry. I have to do it. It’s totally our thing now ever since you talked me up at the mall. Plus, Mom already said I could.”

  I give Leila a sympathetic smile. “It’s true. She did. But he only has twenty minutes, and then he has to go to his room for the rest of the night or he’s grounded.”

  Leila’s eyes pop wide open and then narrow with suspicion. “And why is that?”

  “No reason,” Jace says quickly, guiding me over to the couch and directing me to sit. Mia tosses him a comb and an elastic.

  “Liar.”

  Leila turns that narrow-eyed gaze on me, and I crack instantly. Jace wasn’t kidding about her interrogation tactics. “We may or may not have broken the no-member-of-the-opposite-sex-in-the-bedrooms rule.”

  “Ooh,” Cassidy, the cheer team’s scary member, pipes up. “Yeah, Mrs. King’s a stickler on that one. I’m surprised she didn’t send you home.”

  Jace smirks. “She had plausible deniability.”

  “I was warned for the next time, though.”

  Leila’s mouth drops open. “What? How long have you been here?”

  “Not long,” I say. Too quickly. Just like Jace.

  Leila rolls her eyes. “You’re both liars.” She sighs. “Jace, hurry and braid her hair, and then get out.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel says, shooting a pointed look in Jace’s direction. “We need you to leave because now we have to grill Charlie about what she was doing in your bedroom.”

  She waggles her eyebrows at me. I turn eight shades of red, and the whole basement erupts into catcalls, cackles, whistles, and laughter. This could turn out to be a very long night, but I’m still kind of excited to talk about my first kiss.

  Jace combs his fingers into my hair and starts braiding it. The light pulling and scratching against my scalp feels oddly wonderful. Leila was right. Having your hair braided is nice. “No way,” Jace says to Rachel. “Charlie would never kiss and tell.”

  “So there was kissing!” Cassidy howls.

  “I knew it!” Rachel cries.

  “Way to go, Jace,” I mutter under my breath.

  He snorts and pulls my head back until I’m looking up at him. “You’re the one who busted us in the first place, and they were going to drag it out of you anyway.”

  He ducks down and kisses my forehead before pushing my head forward so he can keep braiding. Every girl in the room takes a collective sigh.

  “You guys are so adorable,” Mia gushes.

  My cheeks turn pink, but this is nothing compared to the humiliation we suffered upstairs, so I manage a grin and a “Thanks” that has Jace giving my shoulder a light, appreciative squeeze.

  A few seconds later, Jace gives the ends of my hair a tug and pats my head. “There. All done.”

  I stand up, carefully smoothing my hands over the back of my head. “Hey, it’s pretty tight.”

  “Yup. You can sleep on it if you want. It should hold.” He points to the bathroom. “Go check it out.”

  He follows me into the bathroom and hands me a small mirror so that I can turn around and see the back of my head. “Wow. You’re really good at this.”

  He shrugs. “I used to watch my mom do it on Leila so much that she sat me down and forced me to learn.”

  “Useful talent in a house full of girls.”

  “Especially when one of them is a cheerleader.”

  Leila barges into the bathroom and forcibly yanks Jace out. “Yeah, yeah, you’ve got skills. Now, get out. It’s girl time, and this time it’s no boys allowed.”

  Jace grabs my wrist, and I end up getting dragged toward the stairs with him.

  “All right, go,” Leila demands.

  “I’m going. I’m going.” Jace rolls his eyes at his sister, then gives me a goofy smile and tugs me to him until I fall against his chest. He slips his hand around my waist. “Thanks for talking with me earlier.”

  I blush. He’s holding me against him, and I can feel seven pairs of eyes watching us. “Um…no problem.”

  He lifts my chin, and that’s the only warning I get before he presses his lips to mine. He kisses me. (In front of everyone!) It’s not an obnoxious kiss or anything, but it’s not a quick peck, either.

  I must look as shocked and panicked as I feel, because he chuckles when he pulls back and sees my face. “Goodnight, Charlie.”

  “You gonna kiss us all goodnight, Jace?” Cassidy asks.

  Jace flicks his eyes over my shoulder and flashes his killer sunshine smile. “Goodnight, ladies.” One more quick peck to my lips, and he whispers, “See you in the morning.”

  He lets me go, and when he finally disappears up the stairs, I thump my butt down on the bottom step and press my hands to my flaming cheeks. I blink hard a couple times before I recognize the person looming over me as Cassidy. She holds her hand out to me with a smirk. “Come on, lovebird. We picked out the movie Mean Girls just for you, in honor of Shelly.”

  That snaps me out of my trance, and I laugh. She pulls me to my feet, and then we all watch a very fitting Lindsay Lohan classic while we paint each other’s nails. The girls are really nice and don’t ask me a million questions about Jace. Then again, what else is there to say? Jace pretty much just told them everything when he kissed me goodnight in front of them all.

  . . . . .

  Leila is right. Sleepovers are definitely one of the best things about being a girl so far. I’ve never had so much fun in my life. Movies, gossip, and deep conversations late into the night. I’m able to just let down my hair—metaphorically, since literally it’s still up in Jace’s braid—and be myself. I get to point out boys in the movie that I think are hot, and I get to repeat my favorite lines out loud with the movie. I laugh, and I cry,
and I bond. (And I take a ton of Instagram photos.)

  In the morning, when we’re all still sleep deprived but excited because tonight’s prom night, the girls even teach me a dance that they know to a certain popular song so that we can all dance together to it when they play it tonight. I’ve never danced in my life, and I’m maybe not the most graceful, but I’m coordinated enough that I pick it up quickly. It’s kind of cool.

  Mrs. King opens the door at the top of the stairs and yells down, “Leila! Charlie! Can you come up for a minute?”

  Leila and I share a look of confusion and head upstairs. When we get to the kitchen, I stumble to a stop, shocked to see my father taking to Jace. Joy bursts through me. It feels like he’s been gone forever this time. “Dad!” I squeal, and take a running leap at him, nearly knocking him off his feet.

  He laughs as he wraps me up in a hug. “Easy there, slugger. You’ll break me. I’m getting to be an old man.”

  I snort. He’s the most in shape 45-year-old on the planet. “Sorry.” I squeeze him hard before letting him go. “Tackle hugs. They’re as contagious as giggling.”

  He laughs. “And the girly squealing? That’s new, too.”

  I shrug sheepishly. “Yup. I’m afraid I’ve been thoroughly assimilated. What are you doing here?”

  Dad throws his arm around my shoulder, as if he can’t bring himself to let me go. I think he missed me as much as I missed him this time. “I missed my baby girl, and I had to come meet the infamous Leila King, who has turned my daughter into a squealing, giggly, tackle-hugging blonde.”

  He’s totally teasing, but Leila ducks her head bashfully, and her cheeks turn pink. I grin at her and drag her over to meet my father. “Dad, this is Leila—best girl in the universe. Leila, this is the best and most obnoxious dad ever, Chad Hastings.”

  While they shake hands, I glance around the room and point out Jace’s parents, who are both watching us with amused expressions. “And have you met Mr. and Mrs. King?”

  Mr. King grins at me. “We introduced ourselves already.”

  “Would you like to stay for breakfast?” Mrs. King asks Dad.

 

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