Liars and Losers Like Us(29)
“Molly?” I ask. “That’s nothing. Kallie’s gonna snap. If it weren’t for Molly still being so hung up on Todd, Jane would’ve told everyone. She’d love to throw that in Kal’s face. Jane was so pissed that night—from the sounds of it, Todd’s been sort of leading her on. So, yeah, you’re right. Gross.”
Sean and I try to come up with a crazy scheme to have it all come out without me having to be the bad news bearer. We come up with a couple of ideas that, when examined further, would never work unless we were in a movie. Like, what if we send an anonymous note to Kallie and Molly. Or somehow get Jane, Molly, and Kallie into an elevator together; lock them in, until Jane tells everything. After realizing that I’m pretty much forced to tell Kallie, we decide to watch a movie. As we look through the shelved movies, I punch Sean lightly in the shoulder.
“Thanks for trying to help me out with the Kallie drama. Sorry you’re kinda in the middle with your friends.”
“No worries,” Sean laughs. “It’s my fault. I was the one who wanted to go to that party. But I guess that’s the way it is. Sometimes you go to a Belmont High party and it’s fun and sometimes you go and find out that the idiots you hang out with are actual idiots. And then they puke on you.”
We decide on an old movie, Stand By Me, when Sean says he’s never seen it. We sit on the couch leaving enough space for two people to sit in-between us. As the movie starts I alternate between ideas on how to scoot closer to Sean and ideas on how to talk to Kallie. After laughing at a few of the spots where I usually laugh (I’ve seen this movie about fourteen times) I ask Sean if he wants popcorn. I’m sure we’d have to sit closer if we’re sharing a bowl of popcorn.
“No, that’s okay. I’m fine, unless you want some.”
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t want to be a crappy movie host.” My shoulders slump in defeat as I pull my legs up on the couch to cross them. Might as well get comfortable. Way over here. My lips twitch as I force myself not to frown.
“Total change of subject here,” Sean says, “but what kind of cat do you have?”
“Cat?” I ask. “I don’t have a—ohhhh yeah, that cat. Yeah, ummm …”
“––Because I’m allergic to cats but my eyes aren’t itchy or anything. I just realized that I’m not sneezing either.”
The only lies I can come up with would be that my cat died and we had the carpets deep cleaned or I have one of those scary looking hairless cats. I run my palms, already sweating, along the sides of my jeans.
“Well,” I start, “actually, maybe you’ll find this funny.” I meet his eyes for a second before taking special interest in the seam of the pillow I’ve stuffed into my lap. “I don’t even have a cat. I was trying to leave a … I wanted to change my message and can we just say that I’m horrible with leaving voicemails?” Clamping my mouth shut, I lift my head for his reaction.
He laughs. “Sure. I should confess something too. If I do we’ll call it even?” He thrusts his hand forward for a handshake.
Any kind of touching is better than none, so I take it. “Ummmm, yeah, okay. Deal.”
He pulls our linked hands into the space between us. “I didn’t really need any help with the poetry writing stuff.”
“Really? Why?” I ask. In my best interest, I hold back using my fake surprised face.
“I was just trying to hang out with you.”
“Well, I did think it was interesting when you told me earlier that you write songs.”
Sean squeezes my hand tighter and looks up with a smile that makes me want to just lean in a little farther and––
“I wasn’t sure how to ask you out. You’re not the most approachable girl in the school, you know.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before. Sorry?” I really don’t know how to respond. He’s so damn cute, even though his eyes, like aquamarines, are practically pulling off the layers of my cornea, begging for some sort of answer. Which is unnerving. I mean, maybe he’s right about me being unapproachable, but there’s also practically a mini-airplane flying overhead pulling a sign that reads: She’s so into you.
My stomach is aerial-cartwheeling while my bottom lip is clamped between my teeth so I don’t say the wrong thing. The only way to delete some of the weirdness going on right now is if we kiss.
Wetting my lips without being super noticeable, I scoot my legs and butt over. Going for it. I pull my hand from his and move it to his shoulder, feeling the warmth beneath his snug gray T-shirt against my palm. He reaches out and cups the curve of my waist. The background noise from a movie we’re not watching fades into nonexistence. Our eyes lock like magnets as the space between us gets smaller. The excitement, the anxiety, the neediness burns and tingles through my core. I grip the couch cushion as I continue leaning forward while his eyes shine, then blur as they move parallel to mine. My eyelids fall and a spark rushes through me as our lips meet.
The slam of my kitchen door being closed from the garage echoes into the living room. As if our lips actually are on fire, Sean and I jerk back.
I jump up. “Omigod, my mom.” I whisper, “Um, sorry. Sorry.” I do a backward jog and dive into the chair next to the couch. “Moooom?” I call. “You home?”