by Jolene Perry
Now that we’re in this small space together, I wonder if it would have been better to stand outside. It’s like I’m running out of air.
I just need to get something out, right? “You lied to me, James. And not just one lie, but when you were given the chance to come clean, you lied again.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“Not admitting what went on is a lie! And so not what I expected from you.” It’s what I’d expect from someone like Dylan, right? Why does it all need to be so confusing?
He reaches out and takes my hand. I let him, but almost more because I’m curious. What does James feel like to me? Not like Dylan. Just…just like James, I guess.
“We’re perfect together, Ziah. You know it. We want the same things. We like the same things. Sharing classes when you completely ignore me is like torture. I want to be the guy who makes you smile again. I’ve missed that. I’ve missed being around you.”
Have I missed him? Parts, maybe. But for more than friendship? My feelings are too muddled to know.
“I don’t know if I want to be around you anymore.” But my heart hurts with him here. Do I still love James? Yeah, I guess I do, but only because love isn’t something that just disappears. I still care, but like a friend. I don’t want more, and maybe I haven’t for a while, it was just that we had a routine of being together, and I didn’t want to lose that.
James looks like I just kicked him. “I don’t want there to be awkwardness. Not with us. If you can’t do anything else right now, I understand. The space between us is killing me. You were my best friend and my girlfriend all in one gorgeous package. I go crazy when I think about how that one stupid night shouldn’t have happened. How I’d trade anything to take it back. I’ve berated myself over and over for not going to your mom’s restaurant.”
James is all sincerity. Maybe I’m keeping myself mad at him because I just want to be mad.
“Then you shouldn’t have lied about it.” I shake my head. “There were too many times, and too many opportunities for you to say something.”
His head falls forward, and I know James well enough to know he’s once again struggling not to cry. My first pang of sympathy for how I’ve tortured him hits me hard. It’s been weeks, and I haven’t said a word to him.
“I don’t think she knew who she was kissing, and even then, she kissed me in a way that you never had. Like she really, really wanted it. Me. Even though she didn’t know who it was. I wanted that from you.” He lets his eyes find mine.
I wanted that from him, too. But it just wasn’t there. James and I just aren’t supposed to be together that way.
“Could I take you out? Just once. Just to start over or something?” His hand squeezes mine, and it’s funny because I totally forgot we were holding hands.
“Midterms are in a couple weeks. Maybe we could get together to study or something. But don’t think this means you’re forgiven, and I don’t want to be anything more than friends.” I keep my jaw tight, hoping he’ll know I’m serious.
“Thanks, Ziah. You have no idea.” He runs the back of his fingers down my cheek. I turn away, even though it’s one of my favorite things he does. It just doesn’t feel like it used to. And I still sort of want to be mad.
I take my hand back. “See you.”
He grabs the door handle. “See you tomorrow.” He pushes open the passenger’s side door, and I pull in a long breath when it closes behind him.
If before James and I dated, I had been given the choice between him and Dylan, I would have chosen James in a second. He’s the safe choice. Only he destroyed me, so like Lora said, looks are deceiving—he isn’t the safe choice. But also, somewhere in our time together, I sort of lost the excited feeling of being with him. It doesn’t let him off the hook for Alyssa, but it makes me wonder what he’s fighting so hard to get back. And I really wish I knew how I felt about it. I also really wish I knew how Dylan felt about me, because after our kiss, I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
***
For the past few days, Lora’s been riding on this high of getting her location, and then I learn it’s just for the ceremony. After dragging Dylan and I all over town, they’ve decided to use Mom’s restaurant for the reception, and we’re heading there tonight. My Friday night. A week after my Dylan-kiss, and I’m in NO hurry to see him again. At all.
I call Alyssa in a panic, and she rushes over to make sure I’m appropriately dressed to make an impression without looking like I’m trying. Of course, I have to explain everything about Dylan and our kiss and how I’m completely confused, and she’s concerned and worried about me on the rebound. I try to assure her I’m not interested in getting involved with him. I’d simply like for him to be a little sad at what he turned down.
It’s the first real thing she and I have done together, and it feels good. Better than good. Like we’re talking and doing, and it’s another step in getting us to where we should be.
I step out of the house in Alyssa’s black coat, dark skinny jeans, black boots, a simple black tank with this loose-knit shrug sweater thing that Alyssa brought over. It’s thin, so you can still see me underneath it, and the neck leaves a shoulder exposed. I feel over-dressed, but Alyssa laughs when I say that. So I guess I’m okay.
Now I just need to settle my nerves and get myself in the mindset to be totally normal around Dylan and not think about the kiss.
***
Mom’s restaurant is nearly emptied out at close to eleven. Just the bar is still going, and the second I walk in, I see Dylan and think about the kiss. Not good. My knees get weak when I think about him pressed against me in the tunnel, and I’m the pathetic one who thinks there’s more between us than there is.
Why, I want to ask him, Why? But then I remember that’s exactly what James asked me.
I am pathetic.
I slide off my coat and hang it on the back of the chair, and Lora and Derrick are looking around the restaurant trying to figure out the best way to set it up. Mom has this half wall that looks almost like an outdoor fence, and the main area of the place is like three different levels—not an easy setup to work with.
My shoulders go up as I find room in my pockets for my hands and my shoulder slips out. I’m trying so hard not to look and see if Dylan’s watching, but when I sneak a peek, his head jerks away. Guess we were both caught, and this is as awkward as I thought it would be.
“Can you two stand on that level?” Lora points behind me.
Great. Next they’ll want us making out to make sure the lighting is right.
I take the step up, and Dylan steps up behind me.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” He gives me this weird smile and glances over at my bare shoulder.
Just then Paul steps out of the doors to the kitchen with a huge bowl of macaroni and cheese with bacon piled on top. That definitely looks like a “custom-made” item.
He gives me a howl. “Lookin’ hot tonight, Ziah.”
“Hey, Paul.” I wave and smile, a blush creeping up my cheeks.
“I would weigh five hundred pounds if your mom was my mom.” He grins and shovels in a mouthful as he finds a place to sit.
Dylan crosses his arms, and I swear he’s frowning. But I’m not looking close enough to really see.
Huh. He’s looking at me, and he doesn’t like that I’m flirting with Paul. A little part of me feels almost hopeful again. And then I know I need to crush it for all the same reasons I knew I shouldn’t get involved with him in the first place making me wonder why I bothered to have Alyssa dress me up.
“Scoot to the left.” Lora gestures.
I bump into Dylan, and he practically jumps away. Am I that bad?
“Dylan can take over. I need food.” I walk away and sit down next to Paul.
“Got a bite for me?” I ask, needing to be away from Dylan and out of this situation.
Paul loads up his fork with as much food as he can, grinning the whole time.
I snort. “If you think that you can out-eat me, you’ve chosen the wrong girl.”
“We’ll see…” He holds out the fork. It takes a second, but I get the whole thing in my mouth. Only now I can barely breathe as I chew, and I’m trying not to laugh at Paul’s wide-eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” Lora gives me a look. “I just need you and Dylan to stand in different places so we can check lighting and placement. Please.”
“Thanks for the food.” I smile at Paul as I move to where Lora’s pointing, and then some sappy love song comes over the radio. Is that…Elvis?
“What is this?” Dylan and I say at the same time. It should be funny, and he should say jinx. But he doesn’t because it’s awkward, and suddenly I just want to go home.
“Our wedding song,” Derrick says. “There’s meaning. Keep your comments to yourself.”
And then the song hits me. “I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You,” by freaking Elvis. I was right. There has to be a story behind that one. Because…just because.
I bite my tongue and wait for further instruction. Derrick’s at the edge of the room next to the dimmer switches adjusting the lighting, while Lora points here and then there. Dylan and I stand where she wants us to. Or we sit where she wants us to.
I’m afraid to look at him, and we don’t talk. This couldn’t be more awkward if we tried.
Derrick’s making notes on switches, and I can’t look at Dylan. I don’t even know how to talk to him anymore. And I feel like once again, I just lost a friend. But this time it’s because I was the one who needed a kiss.
I’m such an idiot.
“Okay. I think we’ll use the lowest part as the dance floor, right babe?” Lora looks over her shoulder.
“Sounds good.”
“So, you two. Right here.” Lora points to a spot in the middle of the floor.
We weave around a few tables to get there, and I look longingly over at Paul, who’s finishing his mountain of macaroni and cheese. My favorite.
“Face one another for a sec.” Lora backs up, but I don’t know where to look.
I can smell him. It’s so good. So good. All the parts of the kiss come back to me. The feeling that I’d never get enough. His mouth on mine. His hips (and other things) pressed against me, and his hands across my back.
Just…
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I jump, thankful for the distraction. My eyes catch Dylan’s, and he’s staring again.
He shouldn’t be staring. He’s turning me into a wreck.
ALYSSA: HOW’S IT GOING?
ME: AWKWARD
ALYSSA: U CAN USE ME AS EMER IF U WANT
“I gotta run.” I shove the phone back in my pocket.
“What?” Lora and Dylan ask at almost the same time.
“Alyssa’s got some kind of emergency, and we’re just back on speaking terms. And I…” I’m really trying to look desperate.
“You should go then.” Dylan looks more like himself than he has since before the kiss.
“Fine.” Lora sighs. “I’m crashing at Derrick’s anyway, so you can take the car.”
“See you, Paul.” I give him a wave and wish Alyssa’s fake emergency wasn’t so urgent, because I really want some food.
***
Now that the locations are settled on, Lora and I are at the flower shop putting together the final order. We’ve gone over the paper a million times for how many tables and bridesmaids and groomsmen and the large arrangements and center pieces and and and…
My eyes hurt. I’m about done.
“This is an insane amount of money to spend on flowers. You realize this, right?” The total on the bottom of the page is enough to buy a car.
Lora sighs. “I get that you don’t approve of how extravagant everything is.”
“I don’t get it.” I set my pen down and look at her.
“When he asked me, and I said yes, he said, ‘We’re going to have the biggest, most kickass wedding ever.’ So it’s not just me. Derrick wants a big thing, you know? He keeps saying, ‘We’re only doing this once, baby, let’s make it good.’ And that’s what I’m trying to do. I admit it’s a little thrilling to have such a big budget, but with it comes pressure.”
“I get that.” And for the first time, I do. I get it. And it makes me like Derrick a little more that he’s into this, too.
She sits on the corner. “Okay. What’s going on with you and Dylan?”
I stare at the page. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. And it’s not just you. Dylan was a big pile of mope all weekend.”
I scoff but am a bit pleased. “Well, if he’s moping, it’s his own damn fault.”
“Spill.” Lora kicks off her shoes and slides onto the bed.
I know she’s not going anywhere, so I tell her everything, about how I knew I should’ve stayed away, but I couldn’t help how I felt. I tell her about the kiss and the friend thing, and how I know it’s the smart choice. And that I like him more than I should. I have to blink back tears, probably because it’s all too soon after James.
“You’re not going to school tomorrow. We’re going to do a girl day.” Her smug face is on, and her arms are folded in front of her.
“What about the wedding?” I ask.
“Derrick can take care of it. He just needs to give the invites place a final signature on everything.” She leans back with a smile, knowing she’s going to get her way.
“I don’t do girl days.” I scowl.
“You do now.”
And I know Lora well enough to know it’s final
Seventeen
~ Dylan ~
It’s been more than a week since I kissed Ziah, and I haven’t heard jack from her the whole time. Oh, wait. Unless you count hanging out at her mom’s restaurant where she ignored me and flirted with Paul. Which I don’t care about. Seriously. I don’t.
Why the hell she would want to flirt with Paul anyway is beyond me. I mean, he’s my best friend and all, but he’s not her type. He would drive her crazy, and she’s definitely not the kind of girl he usually goes for. Although she looked damn hot. Was she showing off her shoulder on purpose, knowing I’ve thought about kissing her collarbone more than once?
Okay, so maybe I care a little, but that’s just because it’s not cool. Kiss me, flirt with Paul—even if he was the one doing most of the flirting.
Does she not know how hard it was for me to pull the plug on what we were doing? How much I wanted to touch her everywhere? How kissing her felt different than kissing any other girl, but I put a stop to things because I know it’s not what’s best for her. Or me.
I’m thinking I deserve a medal or something. I would have rather got run over by Mary than step away, but I did. Because I knew it was the smart thing.
Which means it’s definitely a good thing I stopped. I enjoyed it way too much. I started to like her, and that freaks me out. Not a manly thing to admit, I know, but I can’t imagine being broken the way Dad was. The way he is.
I can’t stop thinking about how bad he lost it, and as cool as Lora is, there’s a part of me who thinks she’ll do the same thing to Derrick. What if he wakes up one day, and she’s gone, leaving him feeling just as abandoned as Dad did—as I do.
No, thank you. I don’t get why people set themselves up to risk that kind of disappointment.
The couch shifts when Paul bounces one cushion away from me. I’d totally forgot he was coming over. “You know I don’t really like your girl, right? I’m just giving you shit.”
My head whips around so I’m looking at him. “Ziah’s not my girl.”
Paul shakes his head, suddenly all mature and all knowing. “You’ve been weird. You okay?”
The thing is, I’m not okay, but nothing happened either. Actually, that’s a lie. For the first time in my life, I kissed a girl I liked then made myself stop. Now I’m all screwed up about it. You know… just something tiny like that.
Paul’s sitting
next to me more serious than he usually is. He’s waiting and quiet, which are two things he’s usually not.
I lean back into the couch. I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I think I am. I have to talk to someone, and it’s not like I can go to Derrick. He’ll just warn me away from her, which is what I’m supposed to want.
“Have you ever been with a girl, and it was… different than it usually is?”
Paul’s eyebrows rise. “We both know who you’re talking about, man. Why don’t we just say Ziah? And what do you mean, different?”
I ignore his comment about her name.
“I don’t know. Just… different.” As in I like her. This sucks. Like hugely. “And then it ended, and even though I’m the one who put the stop to it, I was mad it was over.”
I can’t even remember if I told him what it was.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You kissed Ziah—because I know you did that night. Freaked out and hit the breaks, but you really didn’t want to. You’re even more freaked out because you like her and don’t know what to do about it? I guess it pissed you off that I flirted with her, too, which I did on purpose, by the way, because I could tell something was up. Now you’re trippin’ out because you realize how much you really like her, and you don’t want to?”
Okay. Talk about different. “Yeah… I guess you can say that.” Because he obviously said it better than I could.
“Alright, D,” Paul stands up. “It’s obvious you’re into her, and that’s not a bad thing, ya know? But before you do anything, you need to make sure you’re serious. The last thing you want to do is hurt that girl. She’s cool, and your brother’s marrying into her family. Personally, I think it’s cool. You should go for it, but I know you trip out because of your mom.”
He’s right. I like her. I like that she’s grumpy half the time, and that she doesn’t take my crap. I like that she’s funny and smart. That she’s freakin’ gorgeous and likes good music. It’s cool that we can talk, that we like the same movies. But that’s friend stuff, right? Except for the gorgeous part. I also like that she’s an amazing kisser. Like the way she nibbled my lip—that’s definitely not friend stuff.