“But,” she said, carefully avoiding my gaze, “your continued presence may have been a perk that I considered.”
I tucked her hair behind her shoulder, where it wouldn't stay because of her new haircut. “I think, uh, I might be in love with you,” I said, my voice sounding gruff and awkward even to my own ears. Strange after everything we'd been through together that this would be so difficult to say, but it was. I couldn't even look at her, focused instead on that errant strand of hair. “Is that going to be a problem?” I asked stiffly when she didn't respond.
She laughed. “Probably. Probably lots of problems. But”—she put her hands on my shoulders when I tried to pull away—“we'll figure them out. I'm not going anywhere.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tightly.
It would take more time and patience for her to get to the point where she was comfortable enough to
I leaned back to look at her, seeing only her, this girl who was Ally but also Alona, and who bore a resemblance to a friend I'd once had but was someone new. Someone I could live without, but didn't want to.
I eased closer, drawn in by the desire to cement this moment in reality, in touch and taste.
She pulled away slightly, her hand covering her mouth like she had garlic breath. “Do you have any idea who Erin was kissing?”
“Yeah, so we'll brush our teeth really, really thoroughly afterward,” I said, bumping her nose with mine gently. I wasn't going to let
She lowered her hand slightly. “And burn our toothbrushes?” she persisted.
“I'll buy you a case of new ones,” I promised, my lips moving against her cheek.
She nodded and lowered her hand the rest of the way.
I brushed my mouth against hers. She shivered, and her hands swept up to touch my hair and urge me closer. They were chaste kisses, in deference to the night we'd both had, but electric in their potential. I could feel the future in them. A future I never thought I'd have, and one I wanted more than anything.
Will was waiting for me in the pickup/drop-off area in front of school when I walked out at the end of my first day. At the sight of him, I stopped dead, blinking in the super-bright afternoon sun, not sure if I was seeing what I wanted or what was actually there.
It had been two weeks since I'd last seen him. When Will brought me home to the very worried, very angry Turners, I'd explained that he'd tracked me down at a party and driven me home. They were doubtful, but I insisted, and they eventually thanked him, albeit reluctantly.
Then they'd taken turns hugging me until I couldn't breathe… and grounded me for a freaking month. No visitors, no phone, and no INTERNET.
Fun.
It had almost been enough to make me look forward to going back to school. Actually, no. It hadn't.
Will had kept his distance for the last couple of weeks — trying to respect the Turners' wishes, he'd said, on the few whispered phone calls I'd managed to make.
Okay, yeah, fine, I got it, but I missed him — more than I was willing to admit. And it was enough to make me start worrying. We'd already been through more than two people should go through in
I wasn't sure I could blame him. It wouldn't change my choice to stay as Ally — it couldn't, really, anyway — but it would hurt. A lot.
So I'd been obsessing on what I would say, how I would play it — particularly with the other item I had on my agenda — when I saw him again, not expecting it to be for another couple of weeks. Which was why I wondered, upon seeing him waiting for me outside school, if he were a figment of my imagination.
But he didn't shimmer into nothingness or morph into someone else. It was definitely Will. He was leaning against the Dodge, his hands in his pockets, watching everyone warily, as though expecting someone to proclaim there'd been a mistake and try to drag him back into the building.
I started toward him, and when he saw me, his tension seemed to ease, and he straightened up with a smile that made my heart — yes, mine, because it
I had to check the urge to run at him. First, because running? Still not my thing with a bum leg, though that was getting better with time and physical therapy. Second, because, hello, it was better to play it cool, even now… just in case.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, approaching at what I hoped was a reasonable pace but was probably still too fast, and trying not to grin too hard. So much for playing it cool.
