The Opposite of Ordinary

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The Opposite of Ordinary Page 22

by Jessica Sorensen


  For some weird reason, I think of the card I found. Maybe tonight I can somehow work it into a conversation.

  “Thank you,” I reply with gratitude. “I appreciate your undeserved kindness.”

  Silence momentarily stretches between the four of us, and then we all start laughing.

  “Come on; get your butts in here.” Clarissa steps back and lets us walk through the doorway. “We were just above to serve shots.”

  “Shots?” Lucky perks up.

  “Candy shots,” Clarissa clarifies, stepping inside. “I think there’s some beer in the fridge if you want a real drink.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.” Lucky clutches his front pocket for dear life as he steps over the threshold. I follow them, my jaw nearly punching the floor.

  Tons of glowing mushrooms, colorful flowers, and tree branches are hanging from the ceiling, a checkered rug is rolled across the carpet, and the doorway in front of me is framed with iron poles that resemble a gothic entrance gate.

  “Holy crap, Clarissa, this is amazing,” Gabby states, turning in a circle, her gaze skimming the walls, ceiling, and floor.

  “Just wait until you see what I did to the shop.” Clarissa motions for us to follow as she whisks through the doorway.

  Gabby trails after her, awestruck by the decoration. “So cool.”

  Lucky takes a drink before he hurries after her, while I move much slower, taking in the scene, terrified what might be waiting for me through that doorway. After minutes of staring at mushrooms and flowers, I run out of excuses to procrastinate and finally enter.

  My heart instantly sprints. It’s worse than I thought. Not only are Kinslee, Huntley, Maxon, and Clarissa hanging out in the decorated living room, but so are a handful of other people I go to school with, people who aren’t fans of Queen Bitchton’s sidekick, ex or not.

  That’s not even the real kicker.

  No, what nearly makes me turn around and run away from Wonderland forever is the sight of Maxon sitting on the sofa with a very pretty girl who looks vaguely familiar. They’re both dressed up as the Mad Hatter, although Maxon looks way better in my opinion, rocking pinstriped pants, suspenders, a black T-shirt, and a top hat.

  He’s talking animatedly, his eyes lit up, his hands moving in front of him, the opposite of how he looked the last time I saw him, when I kissed him and he looked at me like the villain of a horror movie.

  Slowly backing away, I leave the room and dash toward the entryway. I consider going to the car, but when I reach the front door, the doorbell rings. Abandoning that plan, I make a beeline through the doorway to my right and stumble into a kitchen decorated with platters of colorful cupcakes and cookies, and shot glasses filled with a variety of candies. And in the center of it all is Clove, eating frosting straight out of the container with a spoon.

  Crap! There’s no escaping anywhere!

  He hasn’t looked up yet, so I start to inch back out slowly.

  “Alice never ran from Wonderland,” he says, shoveling another spoonful of frosting into his mouth.

  I freeze in front of the doorway. “I’m not Alice.”

  He glances up at me, licking a drop of frosting from his lip. “You aren’t, huh?”

  I tug at the hem of my dress. “My brother’s girlfriend made me wear this.”

  “Seems pretty fitting.” He sets the frosting down and rounds the kitchen island toward me.

  I note the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers he’s wearing. “Who are you supposed to be?”

  He smiles broadly. “The narrator.”

  A giggle escapes my lips, and I shake my head. Only Clove could get me to laugh at a moment like this.

  “Feeling a little better about being here now?” he asks, licking more frosting off his lip.

  I reluctantly nod. “Maybe just a little.”

  “Hmmm … Only a little?” He reaches for a shot glass on the counter and presents it to me like an offering. “This should do the trick.”

  Giggling again, I take the plastic shot glass and down the mouthful of candy. “Mmm … Sugary deliciousness.”

  With a small smile, he takes the empty shot glass from my hand, discards it in the trash, then leans against the counter with his arms folded. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

  “With what?” I ask, truly dumbfounded until he gives me an unrelenting look. Then I swallow hard. “Maxon told you?”

  “Only after I bugged him for over an hour. He put up a good fight.”

  “How did you even know something happened?”

  “Well, I didn’t know exactly what happened. I could just tell something was bugging him the second he showed up this morning.” He snatches another candy shot from the counter and chugs it. “Honestly, I haven’t seen him that grumpy since his dad bailed on him.”

  I feel terrible. “I didn’t mean to make him angry. I just … I don’t know …” I fiddle with the lacey trim of my dress. “We were hanging out in his room, talking, and one thing led to another, and I”—I put my hands up to the side of me—“lost all grasp on reality and kissed him. I shouldn’t have done it, and now I wish I could take it back.”

  His brows gather as he chomps on the candy. “Why?”

  I gape at him. “Because, obviously I pissed him off. And who can blame him? He decides to be nice to a girl who’s been nothing but mean to him, and then she decides to steal what I’m guessing is his first kiss from all that zero for zero talk yesterday.”

  “Technically, it wasn’t his first kiss. Some girl did smash her lips against his at a concert once. Then she laughed and ran off.”

  “Well, that’s just horrible.”

  He nods. “I think she was on something.”

  I sigh. “Still, that can’t be good for a guy’s confidence.”

  He extends his hand toward another candy shot. “Exactly. Which is why you need to kiss him again.”

  Shaking my head, I grab a candy shot. “No way. I’m not doing that to him again.” I lift the brim of the plastic cup to my lips. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled away. I felt like I had cooties.”

  He rolls his eyes, setting the empty shot glass down. “You know, for someone who’s experienced in the dating world, you’re kind of dense when it comes to inexperienced guys who just got kissed by someone they’ve had a crush on for seven years.”

  “Hey, I’m not that experienced,” I start to protest, but then get sidetracked. “Wait. Crush?”

  He nods, stepping toward me. “I know it’s not cool to out your best friend, but I’m going to do it right now, only because I know you like Maxon, too.” He places his hand on my lower back and directs me back toward the doorway. “Maxon panicked when you kissed him, not because he thinks you have cooties, but because he likes you.”

  I stumble in my heels as I step through the doorway. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “It makes complete sense. Imagine being in his shoes. You’ve been obsessed with the same girl for years, a girl who hasn’t given you the time of day and is probably one of the prettiest girls in school. And her last boyfriend was some popular douchebag, while you’re this little nobody who hangs out in teachers’ classrooms at lunchtime.”

  “Maxon isn’t a little nobody.” My tone comes out shockingly clipped as I stumble into the living room. I can feel everyone staring at me, but I’m too irritated with Clove to care. “And he’s way better than Knox.”

  Clove’s grin broadens. “And that right there is why I’m about to do this.”

  Confusion bounces in me like an out of control bouncy ball. “Do what?”

  He dazzles me with his pearly whites before shoving me forward with enough force that I trip in my heels and land straight on Maxon’s lap.

  Maxon grunts as my hip bumps his stomach. “What the heck?”

  “S-sorry,” I sputter, moving to climb off his lap, but a palm touches my back and pushes me further into Maxon’s lap.

  I sit down with my legs hanging off the front of Maxon’s knee
s and twist around, glaring at Clove. “What’re you doing?”

  He ignores me. “Max, if you let her out of your lap, I’m going to take my air compressor away and refuse to talk to you until after the competition.” He flashes him a smug smile before turning around and strutting over to Clarissa and Kinslee.

  I look back at Maxon, absolutely mortified. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea why he did that. We were just talking in the kitchen, and then suddenly he pushed me in here and into your lap.” I shift my weight back to climb off him, but he grabs my waist and secures me in place.

  “You heard what he said.” His gaze darts to Clove then back at me. “If I let you move, I won’t be able to enter the potato launcher competition.”

  Awesome. If things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, I’m now sitting on a guy’s lap against his will. A guy who doesn’t seem too thrilled about this, either, which makes me wonder how Clove came up with his theory that Maxon has a crush on me.

  Awkward silence fills the air, except for the music playing in the background and the chatter of conversation.

  “Max, aren’t we going out to the shop?” the girl sitting beside him asks, scooting closer to him.

  She may be hitting on Maxon, but I could hug her right now for breaking the maddening silence.

  “Sorry, but I can’t right now,” he tells her apologetically. “Not until Clove gives me the go-ahead.”

  I feel so stupid. For kissing him. For sitting on his lap. For spying on him. For coming to this party. I should’ve stayed home, waited until tomorrow, apologized for kissing him, gave him the letter, and begged him to be my friend.

  “You know what? I think I’m going to leave.” I scoot forward. “Tell Clove I bailed out. I’m sure he’ll let you off the hook.”

  “No, don’t go,” he sputters out, drawing me back to his chest. Then he takes an unsteady breath. “I mean, I doubt Clove will let me off the hook if you leave.”

  I rotate sideways to look him directly in the eye for the first time since I kissed him. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

  He holds my gaze, except for a few times when his eyes stray to my lips. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, testing him, and he more than passes, becoming entirely enthralled with my mouth.

  Huh. Could Clove be right? Does Maxon like me, but is just afraid?

  There might be one way to find out.

  My heart nervously pitter-patters in my chest. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” My eyes fleetingly glide to the girl sitting beside us. She looks like she’s about to off my head. “Somewhere private, maybe.”

  “Sure.” He carefully moves me to the cushion beside him then stands up. “Just let me tell Clove I’m not running away, okay?”

  I nod then watch him walk through the crowd and over to Clove. When he leans in and says something to him, Clove nods and grins at me. I roll my eyes then start to squirm as Kinslee targets a scowl at me.

  “He won’t fall for your evil tricks,” the girl beside me says abruptly.

  I give her a puzzled glance. “What evil tricks?”

  She flips her dark brown hair off her shoulder. “I know who you are, Ashlynn Wynterland, and I know what you did. And I’m not going to let you get away with it.” She pushes to her feet and stalks toward the kitchen.

  Worry stirs inside of me as I try to piece together why she seems familiar, but then Maxon appears in front of me and offers me his hand. All my worries soar off to reality as I let him lift me to my feet and guide me further into Wonderland.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me out the back door and across the acre of land stretching behind the house.

  He glances over his shoulder, the orange glow of the sunlight reflecting in his cloudy eyes. “To Wonderland.”

  “But I thought we were already there.”

  “Not quite.” He picks up the pace, striding toward a large metal shop. When he reaches the front, he grabs the handle, draws open the crooked door, and pulls me inside the building.

  Lofty, neon mushrooms cover the spacious area, black lighting cascades from the glittering ceiling beams, and “Midnight” by Coldplay drifts through the magically kissed air.

  I blink. Then I blink again, thinking I accidentally ate a magic mushroom or something. But what’s before me remains.

  Letting go of his hand, I spin around in a circle with my hands out to my sides. “I feel like I’ve left reality and flown off to Wonderland.”

  “I told you I could make that happen for you.” Maxon leans against the trunk of a mushroom, watching me spin in circles, the white on his costume shining through the darkness. “I’m just sorry I didn’t get the courage to invite you myself. I wish I would’ve … You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” I stop spinning, my cheeks fiery warm from his compliment. “Maxon, I’m sorry I tried to force myself on you.”

  He blinks in shock then steps toward me. “You didn’t force yourself on me.”

  “But I kissed you without permission and you were upset.”

  “That’s not what upset me.”

  I reduce the space between us. “Then what did?”

  He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before reopening them. “I was upset with myself for messing up the kiss.”

  I trace the glowing white line trimming his suspenders, and secretly grin when he shivers. I’ve never made a guy this nervous before, and I’m enthralled by it.

  “You didn’t mess up the kiss.”

  “Yes, I did. By panicking.” He stares down at my fingers moving up and down his suspenders, mesmerized. “And by not knowing what I was doing.”

  “Does anyone really know what they’re doing?”

  “I really don’t know what I’m doing.” His chest heaves as he releases a faltering breath. “Remember? Zero for zero.”

  “I don’t really know what I’m doing, either. Have I kissed a few guys? Yeah. But that’s it. And I’ve never actually made the first move until I kissed you, so that was my one for one.” Summoning a breath of courage, I loop my arms around him. “And you’re not zero for zero anymore. Not since yesterday. I just hope I didn’t steal the number away from you by kissing you when you didn’t want to be kissed.”

  “I wanted to.” His chest crashes against mine as his eyes zone in on my mouth. “I’ve wanted it to happen for a long time.”

  His words cause reality to rise over my head. He may think he’s wanted to kiss me for a long time, but if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t be here. And I’m a horrible person for letting things get this far.

  I start to pull back, but he seals his lips to mine before I get the chance. I freeze, unsure what to do next: pull away and admit everything, or keep pretending, lying, being exactly the girl who the brunette on the sofa accused me of being.

  My good side is about to win as I pull away, but his lips chase mine. And when his tongue parts my lips, I’m yanked out of the water and back into Dream Land again.

  Suddenly, I’m kissing him. And I mean, really kissing him, our tongues tangling, our bodies pressed so close together that I can feel his heart hammering. And when he lets out a groan, I practically lose my way in Wonderland.

  Pulling him closer, I back us up against a mushroom and kiss him like it’s my first kiss. I kind of feel like it is, mostly because I’m me in this moment, and not some girl kissing a guy because he’s popular or because her best friend told her to. I’m just a girl, kissing a guy she likes so much she can barely think straight.

  When he grips my sides, instead of wandering toward the bottom of my dress, I think I might like him even more.

  He breaks the kiss for a second to ask, “Am I doing okay?”

  “More than okay,” I reply breathlessly, grabbing his suspenders and yanking him toward me.

  His hat falls off his head as our lips reunite. Then we kiss until my lips feel swollen, until my heart is on the verge of combusting, until my mind is so lost I barely compre
hend the lights above us turning on.

  “Maxon,” I whisper through shallow gasps. “Did the lights just turn on?”

  He sucks on my bottom lip before pulling away and blinking dazedly, his fingers on my waist tightening. “Huh?”

  I drift away from Dream Land as my eyes widen. “The lights are on.”

  He tilts his head toward the ceiling then looks back at me. “Clarissa must’ve done it for some reason. I’m sure it’s okay.” He leans back in, his lips magnetizing toward mine.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” The sound of Queeny’s voice sends a shock of fear and anger through my body.

  I spin around, positioning myself in front of Maxon, keeping her as far away from him as possible. “What are you doing here?”

  Her heels click against the cement floor as she ambles around the mushrooms, laughing as she notices my costume. “When my cousin called and told me you were here, she didn’t paint a very good picture of what was going on. That’s okay. It’s much better seeing it in real life.”

  “Cousin?” I ask before it dawns on me. “The Mad Hatter girl is your cousin?”

  “Not by choice.” She stops in front of me and crosses her arms. “I’m grateful she called and told me what was going on. And as a thank you, I’ll acknowledge her in the hallway.”

  “Wow, lucky girl.” My tone drips with sarcasm.

  She glares at me like she wants to throttle me. “At one time, you thought so.”

  “At one time, I believed you were my friend.”

  “Not my fault you were that stupid.”

  I open and flex my hands. “Why are you here?”

  When she glances at Maxon, the biggest demon smirk I’ve ever seen possesses her face. “You haven’t figured that out yet?”

  I span my hands to my sides in a protective move. “You’re not going to do anything to him.”

  “Ash, relax.” Maxon steps beside me, his gaze never wavering from Queeny’s. “I’m not afraid of her.”

  “You should be.” Queeny shimmies her hips as she steps toward him. “I’m about to ruin that little fantasy you have of thinking Ash is a sweet, little innocent girl who just got caught up on the wrong path.”

 

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