Yeah, I should do that.
But what if...what if this is the only chance I’ll ever have? What if me chickening out will result to another Kristen coming along, and this time sticking around? Would I be able to live with myself knowing that I once had a chance to go after what I wanted and yet I blew it?
This is my chance to tell him how I feel. To make him open his eyes and see me standing right in front of him. To make him see that I’m the perfect girl for him. Not Kristen. Not those random girls he used to hook up with. But me. Just me.
All these years I’ve stayed in the sidelines, choosing to pine after him secretly instead of doing something about it. I haven’t even considered the possibility that he feels the same way and just doesn’t know it yet. Maybe when he finds out about my feelings, he’ll realize...
“He has to know,” I whisper.
Yeah, I can do this.
I’m finally going to do what I should have done a long time ago—woman up and fight for what I want. No half-assing this time. No weak confession that can be easily perceived as a joke. But a no-nonsense admission of what I really feel.
Determination courses through me, and that gives me the courage to open the door and climb out. With a hopeful look and purposeful strides, I make my way to Dylan’s house.
But when I get there, that hope dies out at the same time as my heart sinks to the ground. Because a few feet away, right outside the front door, are Dylan and Kristen—kissing.
I’m frozen to the spot, my whole body going numb, my vision turning black at the corners as everything around me fades to a dark color.
I don’t know how I managed to turn around and walk away, but I did. I don’t falter. I don’t stop to think, to feel anything. I just keep walking numbly until I reach the car.
Hands trembling, I open the door and get inside. They’re still trembling when I start the engine and drive off, still refusing to think, to feel anything.
I just pulled inside the garage when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I go very still. Is it Dylan? Did he and Kristen see me? No, they couldn’t have. I was standing in the dark part of the driveway.
It’s from an unknown number.
Hey Bianca, it’s me, Rohan. I got your number from your friend, El. We didn’t get to finish our conversation at the parking. We’re still on for tomorrow, right?
I blink at the screen, realizing I never got to cancel our date. I was secretly hoping I would. That I already had a reason not to go.
That’s when the pain hits me. It’s like a sucker-punch to the chest, robbing me of breath, drowning me in sorrow.
Tears stream down my cheeks, my vision blurring, but I don’t swipe them away. I let them fall.
Even as I type in a reply to Rohan. We’re still very much on. I can’t wait! :)
Sixteen
Mom is beside herself with excitement when Rohan shows up at our front door the following night. I’m so embarrassed for her I practically drag Rohan back to his car and order him to get us the hell out of there.
I’m pretty sure if we stayed a minute longer, Mom would ask us to pose for pictures like it’s the freaking prom night. I guess I can understand seeing as this is my first date— which she knows—and I never went to junior prom.
But it doesn’t make it any less mortifying.
Reckless Pursuit is playing in a bar three towns away and it takes us almost an hour to get there. We spend the whole drive over in silence. Which I’m thankful for. Rohan probably sensed early on that I’m not in the mood to talk.
Hell, I’m not in the mood to do anything. Even the idea of seeing the band up close doesn’t excite me in the slightest. But I already said yes to the date and confirmed it when Rohan texted.
Besides, going out is a lot better than moping in my room and crying my eyes out. I’ve done enough of that the last twenty-four hours. Now I just want to forget.
Forget that the last night ever happened. Forget that I witnessed my best friend get back together with his girlfriend. Forget the fact that my heart shattered right there in his driveway.
Just…forget.
My eyes were puffy and bloodshot—that it was a miracle I could put my contacts on—when I woke up this morning. So I sneaked into my mom’s room and borrowed her makeup kit, then watched a dozen of YouTube tutorials just to learn how to use a concealer. Luckily, I managed to do a decent job of it.
I even dressed up for the date, literally. I’m wearing the red dress shirt Mom’s sister—Aunt Sierra—gave me last Christmas, which I only wore once, and paired it with my hot knee-high boots. I guess it worked because Rohan commented that I look beautiful, making Mom go “awww!” out loud—which drove me to get us out of the house.
My phone suddenly vibrates inside the purse on my lap, dragging me from my thoughts, causing me to jolt a little. Rohan gives me a sideways glance, but I ignore him and take my phone out.
My heart twists painfully when I see that it’s Dylan.
He’s been calling me all day and each time I press cancel. What’s the point, anyway? Why is he even bothering? He’s already back together with Kristen, so what does he want from me?
Maybe he just wants to share the good news to drive the knife deeper.
Shoving the phone back inside, I furiously blink back the tears smarting in my eyes. Dammit, I’ve cried enough.
I need to be focusing all my attention on Rohan. He’s my date tonight, not Dylan. I’m already feeling bad that I’d been close to bailing out on him. The least I can do is to be in the moment.
Our date hasn’t even started yet. I still can have fun tonight. I will have fun.
The bar is packed when we get there and the line outside is insane. But sure enough, there’s a reserved table waiting for us, and it’s near the stage. Since we’re both underage, we just order Coke instead of alcohol, and settle on chips and salsa plus a bucket of chicken wings.
Glancing around and taking in the vibrant energy, my excitement starts to come back, making me momentarily forget about my boy problems.
And when Reckless Pursuit steps out on the stage, I join the cheering crowd, jumping to my feet and pumping my hands in the air, the wild energy around the place spurring me on. Then I sing along to every song, bopping my head to the music, throwing all my worries to the wind.
And it feels absolutely amazing.
Rohan looks pleased to see the huge grin on my face, simultaneously listening to the music and chuckling in amusement at my enthusiasm. Afterwards, he leads me backstage to introduce me to his cousin and the rest of the band.
Oh God, I can barely restrain myself from fangirling so hard.
Over the drive home, my throat starts to ache from too much singing and screaming. Even my cheeks hurt from smiling the whole time. But it’s so worth it.
“I’m glad you had fun,” Rohan tells me as we stand beside his car by the curb in front of my house.
“I did. It was great.”
It really was. I’m still riding the high from the great music and wild energy back in that bar. I’m glad I didn’t cancel the date. Otherwise, I’d still be in my room sulking and missing out on something fun.
“So, uh”—he rubs the back of his neck—”are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your door?”
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
He looks a little disappointed. “I guess I better go.”
“Right. See you on Monday?”
“Right.”
Rohan doesn’t move, not at first. But instead of getting into his car, he steps closer. Then he bends his head slowly, waiting for me to stop him, and kisses me when I don’t. Soft and gentle, as if making sure we’re on the same page.
Tentatively, I kiss him back, knowing in my heart that this is the first and the last time I’ll ever kiss him. It will never happen again. Because no matter how much I try to move on—no matter how hard I try to forget—there’s only one boy I’ll ever want to kiss.
And it’s like Rohan knows it, to
o. Because then, he puts his arms around me and deepens the kiss, and with it, a sense of urgency and finality.
When we pull back, I feel like crying. I know Rohan will make a perfect first boyfriend. Just not for me.
He searches my eyes and what he sees in them makes him sigh in defeat. “It’s McCafferty, isn’t it?”
My cheeks heat up, but I nod mutely, knowing he deserves to know the truth.
“I hope he knows how much of a lucky bastard he is.”
I choose not to answer that. “Rohan, I like you. You know that, right?”
“But you don’t like me enough.”
“I’m sorry.” I wince.
“Me, too.” He smiles a sad smile that makes my heart hurt. Then he kisses my forehead and quietly goes back into his car.
I watch him drive off, mourning the unfairness of it. That boy has been more than willing to be mine, yet I couldn’t make myself fall for him.
I’ve never hated the saying, “The heart wants what the heart wants” more than I do in this moment.
Seventeen
Heart heavy, I get inside the house, hoping that Mom isn’t waiting for me to launch her twenty questions about the date. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I just want to be left alone.
Thankfully though, no one is around. So I’m able to reach my room without any interruption.
The moment I step inside, I spot Dylan’s jacket thrown haphazardly on my La-Z-Boy. That’s right, I haven’t been able to return it yet. After changing into a comfortable shirt and boy shorts, I pick it up and bring it to my nose. Then take a deep breath, inhaling Dylan’s scent. It’s faint, but it’s still there.
I put it on, just like what I did last night and the night before that. I can’t have the boy, but at least I have his jacket. Pathetic, I know.
“It looks so good on you.”
I freeze, my heart stopping for a second. Then I whirl around to see Dylan sitting on my windowsill. “Dylan, w-what the hell are you doing here?”
My cheeks are flaming. He wasn’t here when I was changing. Oh God, did he just see me inhale his jacket? Somebody please come in here and kill me.
Should I take it off? But the damage has already been done. He already saw me in it. I’ll just look more pathetic if I do that. Just play it off and act cool.
I clear my throat and tip my chin up, narrowing my eyes at him.
His lips twitch. “I needed to see you.” He pushes from the window, approaching.
“So you sneaked into my window like a creep?”
He raises a brow as if to say, Weren’t you the one caught inhaling my jacket?
I close my eyes briefly. Can I just die in peace?
“You talk as if I haven’t done this before.”
It’s true. Whenever he wants to hang out and it’s already late, he stealthily climbs up my room through my window while everyone in the house remains clueless. He even parks his pickup a few houses down just to be safe. But he hasn’t done that in a while.
“Well, what do you want?”
“I’ve been calling you all day and you weren’t answering.” He gives me a wounded look. “Are you avoiding me?”
“Why would I avoid you?” I cross my arms, eyes averted. He shouldn’t be here. Why can’t he just leave me alone? “I was out on a date with Rohan.”
His jaw tenses, his eyes flashing with anger. “I know. I was walking over here when his car pulled up.”
My eyes go wide. Did he see the kiss?
The urge to explain suddenly hits me, but why should I? He was just kissing Kristen last night. He doesn’t have a say on what I do or who I kiss.
“Did you have fun?” he asks in a gruff voice.
“Yeah, I did. It was a good date.” Until I ruined it.
“I can tell. You dressed up for him.” Dylan scoffs, contempt lacing his voice. But his eyes tell the opposite. They’re hot and hooded as his eyes take me in, making me shiver a little. “Yet he didn’t even walk you to the door. Some date he was.”
There he is again. Acting like he’s jealous. I would have believed it to be true if I didn’t see him kiss her with my own two eyes. Now I know he’s just being selfish. He doesn’t want me to be with other guys, but he’s free to be with any girl he wants. He doesn’t care about what I want. He only cares about himself.
A wave of white-hot anger sweeps through me at that realization. “Whatever I do with Rohan is not your concern. Whoever I date—be it Rohan or some other guy—is none of your business, okay? How many times do I have to tell you that before you get it through your thick skull?”
He visibly flinches, like I just slapped him.
I take a deep breath to calm my grated nerves. I’ve hurled enough hurtful words at him in the past week alone. No matter how angry I am right now, I can’t do that again.
But if we keep this on, I’ll be blurting out words I know I’ll regret later. “You know what, D? I’m really tired. Can we just talk tomorrow or something?”
Actually, I prefer that we don’t talk about this ever again. I just need him to leave me alone. I need him to stay away.
Because I’m done. I’m done with all these arguments and all the heartaches I’ve endured. I thought I could continue pretending that everything is fine, but I can’t anymore. I can’t continue acting unaffected whenever I see him with Kristen or other girls. I can’t smile and laugh around them when inside I’m dying.
My date with Rohan may have ended in a disaster, but I realized something from it. I deserve that kind of date. I want to experience it again. And agonizing over Dylan won’t get me that.
I have to let him go.
If avoiding him and keeping my distance from him is what it takes, so be it.
The finality of my decision must be showing on my face, because Dylan looks suddenly frantic.
“No, wait. Just wait.” Cursing under his breath, he runs a hand through his hair, making the ends stick out. Then paces the floor.
I watch him warily. Why does he look so agitated?
He stops in front of me, his eyes wild. “Ask me again.”
I back up a step, my eyes springing wide. “Ask you what?”
He follows. “Why Kristen and I broke up.”
My back hits the wall. “What does it matter?”
They already got back together, didn’t they? I don’t think they even broke up in the first place.
“Just ask me.” He’s looming over me now, forcing me to cock my head up to meet his eyes.
What is he doing? My chest rises and falls erratically, every nerve ending in my body crackling to life at his closeness.
“D, just go home.”
“Please.” The desperate plea in his voice does me in.
“Why did you break up?” I whisper.
“Because of this.”
He doesn’t even give me the time to react. His lips have already descended on mine, kissing me, sucking the breath out of my lungs.
I can’t move, let alone think. I stand there, frozen. But when he pries my lips open, demanding entry, I find myself kissing him back, my tongue tangling with his. Then my hands are winding their way around his neck, pulling him closer.
It’s not sweet. It’s not gentle. And it’s the opposite of the kiss I shared with Rohan. Instead it’s hard and fast and intense, with a hint of desperation. It makes my head swim, my knees weak, every cell in my body alive and burning.
This boy. I’ve been in love with him for so long. Waited for him to finally see and love me as more than his best friend. And right now, he’s kissing me like that’s exactly what he feels. Like he’s felt it all along.
When our lips pull apart, we’re both left panting and breathless. Dylan’s arms are around me and I’m flushed to his chest.
My lips are swollen from that intense kiss, my heart hammering in my ears. I can feel my knees wobbling, threatening to give out.
Dylan just kissed me. I can’t believe he kissed me.
“Did Mallick’s kiss f
eel the same?”
I stiffen. What did he just say? I look up at him and there it is—the smug self-satisfied look on his face. Was the kiss a game to him?
Angry and humiliated, I push him away, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “I don’t know, D. Did it feel the same when you kissed Kristen last night?”
His face turns white. “How did you—”
Tears spill over, but I wipe them away, glaring hard at him. “Because I was there! I saw the whole thing!”
He mutters a curse, then frantically he says, “Wait. Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”
“I’m not an idiot! I saw what I saw!” I lower my voice down. The last thing I need is my parents barging in here. “You know what, I’m actually glad. Because I was there to talk to you. Seeing you with Kristen saved me from making a fool of myself.”
“I didn’t kiss her, okay? She kissed me. There’s a difference. I pushed her away and sent her home. Nothing else happened. Please, you have to believe me,” he pleads.
I rip my gaze away. “You don’t have to lie to me, Dylan. If you’re back together, I’ll understand.” My voice cracks, a lump lodged in my throat. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her you kissed me. It was just a mistake, anyway.”
“It wasn’t. Don’t say that.”
“Dylan, come on. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.” I swallow hard. “You’re back with Kristen. A-And I’m with Rohan now.”
“Liar.”
My eyes fly up to his. His eyes are flashing with anger.
“I heard what Mallick said.”
“No, you didn’t,” I say, a strong denial in my voice.
“Why did he say I’m a lucky bastard, Bianca?” he asks softly.
Oh God, he knows!
Self-preservation kicks in. “I don’t know.”
“I do.” He licks his lips. “I think you feel something for me. I felt it in the way you kissed me. That kiss tells me that you feel at least a fraction of what I feel for you.”
Perfectly Clueless Page 8
