“I didn’t punch you,” I breathed, not sure what was driving me.
His eyes searched mine. “You didn’t.”
My heart fluttered again. My limbs zinged with electrical charge like they needed to move and they knew where they needed to move to and were angry I wasn’t letting them.
This was Wade in front of me.
Arrogant Wade.
Cocky Wade.
Lisa’s ex-boyfriend Wade.
Totally kissable Wade.
Like I was on auto-pilot, I kissed Wade. Or maybe he kissed me. Or, like he’d said, it took two, and we kissed each other.
All I knew for certain was that I wanted it. I needed it. Everything wrong with the world went away with his kiss.
I didn’t have to think. My body knew what it was doing like we’d been doing this for ever. Pleasure flooded my body. And I wasn’t talking the sexual release kind which, as nice as it is, is a completely different beast to just a pure feeling of…happiness.
Desire filled me. Not just desire for him, but to stay with the quiet and the happy. I was sure, for that to happen, we had to get closer. More action, less think.
I pressed my body against Wade and his hand tightened on my hip like he was trying to bring me even closer. His tongue swept into my mouth as our kiss deepened and I damn near melted on the spot.
My hand fisted his hair as I was prepared to leave all abandon behind and just run with it. I just wanted to feel good.
“Norah…” he whispered and the illusion broke.
Suddenly, I was very aware that I was kissing Wade Phillips in a cold, dark park on a Friday night.
I pulled away from him and pointed at him.
“What?” he asked and I was at least placated that I wasn’t the only one a little out of breath.
I didn’t think the running was to blame.
“That shouldn’t have happened,” I said.
He shrugged. “And yet, it did.”
“That doesn’t mean it should happen. It shouldn’t have happened on Monday.”
“And yet, that also did.”
“Still doesn’t mean it should happen,” I told him, disbelieving he was being so blasé about this. “I don’t even like you.”
“I can’t say I like that much about you.”
I blinked. “Excuse you?”
“What? You’re antagonistic at best and downright mean at worst–”
“Says the guy who’ll quote ‘always be there for me’.”
“Norah, there’s a difference between caring about someone and liking them.”
“Really? I beg to differ.”
“Well, I don’t. You’ve been a total dick the last couple of years, but I still care about you. I still want you to be okay.”
“If I’m a dick, it’s only because you’ve been a total jerk.”
“I’ve just been me. At least I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not.”
“Pardon?”
“You don’t have to be so…fine all the time!” he snapped.
“What would you know about it?”
“More than you know.”
We were in each other’s faces again.
My heart was pounding. I was livid with him.
Then, I was kissing him. It was angry. It was red hot. It awoke something in me I’d rarely felt. It was the kind of kiss that had me reaching for the bottom of his top.
I shoved him away, knowing where his top was going if I didn’t.
We were both breathing heavily as we stared at each other with more hate and distrust than I think we’d ever looked at each other with before.
“This isn’t going to be a thing,” I told him. “We’re not a thing. We will never be a thing.”
I could tell by the look in Wade’s eyes, in his face, in his posture, that he didn’t believe me. But he said nothing. We just stared at each other, almost like we were daring the other one to say something or make a move first.
I refused to say any more to him.
I picked up my Matric jumper from where I’d dropped it, and hurried home. By the time I got up to my room and snuck a look out the window, his car was gone.
Chapter Twelve
On Saturday, I felt terrible.
The icing on the cake was I knew I should feel even worse.
Very front and centre in my head was the fact that I’d kissed my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, a guy she was still head over heels for. Not once. Not Twice. Not three times. Four times. That was a level of betrayal I’d never have thought I was capable of.
And yet, it wasn’t the thing I was focussed on.
My unfair treatment of Wade was.
The guy had legitimately just been trying to help me and I not only kissed him but then got shitty at him about it. It wasn’t his fault I’d apparently lost all self-control around him.
I spent all afternoon starting to type a message to him, deleting it over and over, and never sending it.
I didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry’ just didn’t seem to say enough. Trying for more just seemed like overkill. Being sincere over message was a fine line that I was pretty incapable of treading with any finesse.
In the end, I went with keeping it simple.
Norah
I’m sorry.
He didn’t reply right away but, like the week before, I felt marginally better just saying the words. I felt good, like maybe I was maturing and could in fact take responsibility for my actions no matter how uncomfortable that made me.
Wade
Buy me a burger.
As replies went, I took a minute to work out what he’d meant.
Had it been Lisa, I’d have assumed that was me inherently forgiven; that just the act of me apologising was enough because there was very little that could come between us – that I was currently talking to about the only thing that could was not lost on me.
But it was Wade, and two years is a long time to remember someone’s quirks and idiosyncrasies in these matters.
My gut was telling me I was forgiven. Or at least that he was willing to forgive me. The burger comment, I guessed was code for I should meet him at Maccas. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I was willing to go with it on this occasion.
I got changed relatively quickly and unthinkingly, but it was just as I was zipping up my boots that I started second-guessing my gut. Not so much second-guessing my gut, but second-guessing if I should listen to it.
I’d got shirty with Wade for a reason. I didn’t like him. I hated him. I had to hate him. Because of how he’d treated Lisa. After all that, I couldn’t just turn around and be all pally with him. Could I?
A war of the conundrum was waging in me.
On one hand, I was drawn to Wade. He gave me respite from the shitstorm my life felt like it had become. On the other, there was all that stuff which made me think I really should just stay home and not speak to or see him more than absolutely necessary.
I actually paced my room. That was how much I was torn between my loyalty to Lisa and how much I wanted – no, needed – to see Wade.
Amidst my pacing, I happened to look out my window and see Wade’s car pull up outside. It was lucky I was already dressed for going out because I’d grabbed my keys, Matric jumper, and phone, and was out the front door before he’d turned off his engine.
“This isn’t cool, Phillips,” I told him.
“What’s not?” he asked.
“You can’t just turn up at my house whenever you want. It has to stop.”
He looked at me and the moment was full of meaning.
“All right.” He nodded. “Tell me honestly. What do you want, Norah?”
He wanted honesty? Fine. “I don’t know,” I told him.
“Do you want to get in the car or not? Because you don’t have to get in the car. If you don’t want to, I’ll go. I’ll go and you won’t hear anything more from me. I won’t even tease you at school.”
/>
Well, I might not have known what I wanted, but I knew I didn’t want that. I didn’t know why, but faced with those two options – get in the car or essentially never talk to him again – I was definitely getting in the car. I had to get in the car.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay, what?” he asked and I realised he wasn’t actually a mind reader.
“Okay. I’m getting in the car.”
“You don’t have to,” he reminded me, fighting a smile. “I’m just…”
“Here for me,” I finished for him. “I know. I’m getting in the car, Wade.”
He nodded, that smile a little harder to fight. “Okay. Cool.”
We climbed into his car and looked at each other. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel and his goofy grin was infectious.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“I thought I was buying you a burger?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, we could do burgers. Or…we could go to a party?”
I laughed. “Pretty sure it was owe you a burger, not a shift as your personal driver.”
He smiled. “Love the offer. Very grateful. My problem with drinking isn’t quite so bad that I drink when I’ve got the car though.”
I…did not know what to do with that statement. I blinked a couple of times and felt my mouth open and close along with my eyes.
“Uh…” I stammered.
“Unhealthy coping mechanisms,” he said as he started driving.
“Wait. What?” I asked.
He shrugged. “What, what?”
“What do you mean?”
“Unhealthy coping mechanisms,” was apparently all the explanation I was going to get. “Party? Yea or nay?”
I figured it was best, at least for now, to leave off the whole drinking problem and unhealthy coping mechanisms thing. I was in the mood to feel better, not worse. Surprisingly, that meant I wasn’t in the mood to antagonise or argue with Wade. Plus, if conversation veered into potentially unpleasant territory, that wasn’t going to help my mood at all.
“Yea,” I told him with a nod.
He actually gave a ‘whoop’ of excitement, his fingers still drumming the steering wheel.
Part of me wanted to bring up the night before. To apologise again. To try to explain. Maybe get an explanation from him. After all, we said some stuff. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.
“I can feel you looking at me,” he said with a wry smirk, shooting me a quick glance before looking back to the road.
I quickly focussed my eyes on the road as well. “I’m not looking at you.”
He chuckled. “You were. What’s up?”
“Why do you think anything’s up?”
“You were staring.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Norah.” It was a ‘brook no argument’ voice.
“I was just thinking about last night…”
I watched the crooked smile break over his face. “Yeah. Me too.”
I frowned. “Not the–”
“Yeah, all right. I know what you mean.”
“I am sorry.”
He shrugged. “We all indulge in bouts of self-sabotage at some point.”
“Self-what?” I asked.
“Self-sabotage.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“You don’t know what sabotage is?”
I rolled my eyes. “I know what sabotage is. How can you sabotage yourself?”
He flicked me a look. “Easily. For example, when you’re kissing a dashing young man, then get pissy with him for no reason.”
“It wasn’t exactly–”
“What was the reason, Norah?” he asked.
I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times before something came out. “I shouldn’t kiss you.”
“Why?”
“Because…”
Could I really maintain I didn’t like him? I’d chosen to get into his car instead of risk him never talking to me again. I think I was beyond the point at which I could tell even myself that I didn’t like him. I didn’t have to like his behaviour, but I couldn’t deny that he was there for me in a time of need.
When I didn’t say anything, he nodded. “Exactly. There’s no reason. You and I are both free to kiss whoever we want.”
It was at that point that I was thinking about kissing him again. I was enjoying just thinking about kissing him again so much that I decided not to completely ruin things by bringing up Lisa.
Instead, I nodded slowly. “I guess we are.”
“Which is not to say I expect you to kiss me–”
“I thought it took two?”
He threw me a grin. “I don’t expect us to kiss. There are no obligations here or anything. I’m just saying that, if it happens, it happens. Yeah?”
I could live with that. “Okay. Yeah.”
He gave me a smile and a nod. “Okay.”
I could tell when we’d reached the right road because there were cars parked on either side in a glut around one house. Wade found a park. As I went to grab my jumper, he shook his head.
“The place is gonna be packed. You won’t need that.”
I left it in his car and followed Wade to the house. As we walked in, he took my hand, casual as you please, as he led the way through the crowd. I barely recognised a single person in the room. One or two, I knew by sight. But otherwise, they were all strangers to me.
“Who the hell are all these people?” I asked him over the music.
“People I know,” he responded.
“Not even friends?” I heard myself ask.
He looked back at me. “What?”
“You don’t even call them friends?”
He stopped in the middle of a fray of dancing bodies and pulled me close.
“Stop thinking,” he said, his hands on my waist warm and secure.
“What?”
He grinned and leant his lips to my ear. I felt goosebumps spread across my skin and an excited fluttering in my chest. My body felt on high alert, ready for the briefest of touches from him. I wanted it so badly that I almost wanted it to never come and erase that feeling.
“The point of this is distraction,” Wade said gently.
“Distraction?” I asked.
I felt him nod. “Maybe not the healthiest, but sometimes it’s all we have to stay afloat.”
“How does that differ from unhealthy coping mechanisms, then?”
“It doesn’t really. It’s just a more fun way to avoid our problems.”
“Other than being a dick, what problems do you have?” I asked him.
I felt him smile against my cheek. “More than you know,” came out in a weirdly serious way.
He pulled away from me only far enough to look into my eyes. He seemed to be looking for something. Only I didn’t know what it was. I had a feeling, though, that he found it.
His fingers traced my hairline gently as his face moved closer to mine.
My heart hitched in my chest and I felt myself take a deep breath.
I worked out what it was he’d been looking for. Consent. He’d been looking for consent. And, yeah, he would have found it. Because, at that moment, I didn’t want anything more than I wanted to kiss him. I liked what he’d said about distractions. I liked what he’d said about being free to kiss whoever. I was all for it. I wanted to not think about anything.
So, I closed the gap between us and kissed him. Hard. His arm went around my body tightly and my fingers found their way to his hair again. It was like I was addicted to the feel of his hair in my fingers. It was like I was becoming addicted to everything about him.
Somehow, he stilled the manic panic in me. I thought I was fine, then he’d come along and I’d realise I wasn’t. I’d realise that I needed him or else the thundering of my heart and the static worry in my head was going to overwhelm me entirely and drown me in a flood of darkness.
&nb
sp; Wade kissed me like I wasn’t the only one desperate to stop thinking. Like I wasn’t the only one who needed it. It was deep and all-consuming, but there was nothing frenetic about it. As though we had all the time in the world. And, I guessed we did. Who was going to see us that mattered?
“Oh, ho! Phillips in the house!” someone called and slapped Wade on the back.
He pulled away from me with a rueful and somewhat apologetic smirk before turning to the guy.
“Nicholson. Interesting understanding of boundaries you’ve got going on.”
Nicholson was clearly already a few drinks in. His eyes had that glassy look to them, and his smile was of the blissfully unaware. He looked older than us. Not by much, but enough for me to guess he wasn’t still at school.
“You know I pride myself on being a good host. And I’ve never seen this one before.”
‘This one’ was obviously me. Nicholson unnerved me slightly with the way he was staring at me like a drunk man trying to remember how to work out how to input his PIN at Maccas on the way home from a big night out.
Wade looked like he’d rather be doing something other than introducing me to his non-friends.
“Norah, Nicholson. Nicholson, Norah.”
“And Norah is…?” Nicholson asked with a teasing wink.
“A friend.”
“And Nicholson is…?” I asked.
“Oh, touché,” Nicholson chuckled as Wade answered, “One of the soccer coaches.”
I looked between them. “And are the soccer coaches supposed to invite the students to parties?”
Nicholson held a finger to his lips. “Strictly, no. We only invite the ones not likely to go blabbing.” Another wink.
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
Wade put his arm around my shoulders in what I thought was a slightly pointed action. It felt like he was telling Nicholson to piss of, and the faster the better. The way Nicholson smirked at him, I’d have said message was received loud and clear.
“Drinks are in the kitchen–”
“I’m driving,” Wade said.
Nicholson nodded. “Ah well. If Norah wants, drinks are in the kitchen. I think Mikey has the smokes. And food is on its way.”
Wade nodded. “Great. Thanks, mate.”
the Art of Breaking Up Page 11