Kris squinted at the screen for a moment. I couldn’t look away as he read and could see him doing the math in his head. Talk about something with the perfect timing to screw me up for the competition. Instead of either pity or a grin, though, his lips went from frown to straight line and his jaw clenched the tiniest bit. “Wait, didn’t you two only break up the other day?” I nodded. “So, you said you just needed someone to talk to and he sent you this?”
He handed me the phone and I shook my head, wishing I could drop my eyes or at least go back to my super-calm Audrey Hepburn impression. “Yes…No...I get that he was ignoring my texts and emails all week, but this time I told him I just needed someone who wasn’t my friends or my parents. And I thought Wil could…”
“What. A. Bastard.”
The same weak part of me that had hoped to get back together with Wil was dying to defend his actions, but I bit the inside of my cheek and waited, instead. In stage directions, I’d never understood the whole “His eyes held hers” thing, but suddenly, I couldn’t look away from Kris’.
“He’s lucky he’s on another continent,” he continued.
“You’d kick his ass for me?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my surprise. I pictured Kris swooping with his fencing sword in like a hero in a fantasy film, knocking Wil out before grabbing my hand and–
“Um, actually, I think you’d do a pretty good job, yourself. Especially in those heels.” At my tiny, tortured laugh, he added, “Wil’s an idiot.”
“That, he is.”
“…for letting someone like you get away.”
“Someone like you” made me pause, but I shrugged and was finally able to drop my eyes down to my lap, my fingers playing with the tulle peeking out from under my skirt. “I should have known. Everyone else saw the signs, even you, but I was too stupid to accept it.” Oh, God. I was starting to sound like something out of a predictable rom-com, like I was fishing for compliments or something. “But, whatever. You were right,” I said quickly, shutting my eyes and bracing myself. “Go ahead, gloat.”
“You’ll have to say it again so I can record it,” he said, but his joking tone was balanced by a still-furrowed brow. “Seriously, are you okay? Do you need anything?” He reached for my hand but I pulled it back, pretending I needed to readjust my belt.
I shook my head and tried to look flippant. “I’ll be fine.” My voice took on a biting edge, like I’d swallowed shards of broken ice. “Besides, this helps you in the competition, right? Because I’m such a mess?”
Kris sat back, his lips growing even straighter than before. “You realize I’ve been joking about beating you, right? There are over a hundred good speeches here. You have to think I’m a pretty awful person to single you out and hope you crash and burn.”
“But you said, back in homeroom—”
He cut me off. “That I wanted us to take first and second place. Of course I want first—the scholarship money would be great, but I play fair. Always.” On “always,” he leaned forward until we were nose-to-nose. His hands gripped the armrests and I was trapped between him and the back of my chair. My focus dropped straight to his mouth and the ghost of those few seconds in the rotunda wrapped around my entire body with an electric hum. After too long a beat, I sucked in a breath and forced my eyes back up to his, a little heady with proximity and his unique Kris-smell of lemon-verbena soap. He reminded me of sunshine and summer, especially with the warmth rolling off his body and those gold-brown eyes burning into mine.
“Now, you’re going to compete tomorrow and give a speech that makes me work a million times harder than I’ve ever worked if I want to beat you. And forget that asshole.” His voice was forceful, and he managed to catch my hand and squeezed it, like he was trying to transfer some of his fierceness into me. “Half the guys in this competition, hell, our school, would do anything just to get you to smile at them, so he’s the one who’s screwed, not you. Got it?” Not knowing what to say, I just nodded. My heartbeat echoed in my ears and pounded in the fingers of the hand he held, so much I couldn’t believe he didn’t feel it. I held my breath, waiting.
“Good.” I expected him to lean closer after saying that, break the tension in our locked gazes, give into the intense pull of the moment, but instead, Kris pulled back and stood up. I fought back the irrational disappointment that washed over me. “I’ll let the others know you’re okay. Come back to the table when you’re feeling better.”
He was out the sitting room door by the time I breathed again and unfroze. As much as common sense me wanted to stay in the room, my idiotic heart forced me to stand and run-walk after him, instead of running the other way. I’d been seeing him all wrong this entire time. I dumped all my pride at the door and, hanging on the doorframe, called out, “Kris!”
This was stupid and dangerous. I was confused from Wil’s message and Kris’ reaction, my emotions were a giant hormone sundae topped with an overwhelming urge to break into tears. But when he stopped in the hallway and turned around, I walked right up to him, grabbed his sleeve, and pulled him in until we were face-to-face again, just like in the sitting room. I couldn’t think or breathe, I just had to act. Before he could say anything, I pressed my mouth to his and any doubt or confusion melted away in the heat that jumped up between us, so wrong and so right at the same time.
To his credit, Kris caught on fast, kissing me back with the same fierceness that had been in his voice earlier. His hand slid to the back of my head, fingers burying in my hair and pulling me even closer than I thought was possible. It definitely wasn’t one of those tame, awkward first kisses. We were lightning and thunder together, a storm of pure energy wrapping around us. I was convinced if we broke apart, we’d let off a massive shock.
So, we didn’t.
Thanks to my low-backed dress, his fingers played against the bare skin right above the small of my back. A charge ran up and down my spine and I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to melt into him.
Eventually, we had to break for air and Kris dropped another, tiny kiss on my lips before leaning his forehead against mine. His breathing was ragged, matching me exhale for exhale.
“Em,” he started, his voice rough and sounding a little tortured. “We shouldn’t—”
I didn’t let him finish, pulling out of his hold and taking two steps away. I didn’t need another crushing moment that night and didn’t want to hear him try to reject me. Training my eyes on the toes of my shoes, I said, “Sorry. I’m just so messed up right now with Wil and the competition and I got a little carried away. Pretend that didn’t happen.”
“But—”
I pasted a smile on my face and forced myself to look up at him. His confused expression nearly broke me. “Because you know that’s what I do, right? Just get right back into things. And hot boys are my one weakness. Sorry about jumping you like that. It won’t happen again.”
Kris ran a hand through his hair, making it even more adorably messy than it was before. He studied my face for a minute, probably trying to figure out what to say, then shook his head. “If that’s what you want.” He walked towards me, passing so close I first thought he was going to go for another kiss, but he didn’t stop. With a wave, he headed in the direction of the dining room. “See you at the table.”
As soon as he disappeared around a corner, I dropped onto the hallway fainting couch and buried my face in the dusty upholstery. Crappity, crap, crap. The best kiss I’d ever had in my life was from the one person I’d despised for years on the night my dreams of getting back with my boyfriend crashed and burned. Because my life sucked so much and I was so screwed beyond belief.
Tomorrow was going to be bad. Incredibly bad.
EmmieBear: @BookishArcher I need a hug.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I railed at my tablet, which was propped up against the lamp on my nightstand so I could look straight into Wil’s eyes. “Decent human beings don’t do what you did. Deciding that the perfect time to tell me you cheate
d on me when we were dating is the night I reached out to you as a friend for support so I could build confidence for a really important speech? That’s just so, so…” I searched for the word, “scummy.” I held back the urge to face-palm for settling on a word straight out of Chloe’s arsenal.
To his credit, Wil’s complexion had gone grey. “I did not cheat.” He had to have felt some guilt because he hadn’t shut down the chat, but his whole lack of reaction while I reamed him infuriated me. At least, if he yelled back, I could hate him, but with his calm apologies and quiet explanations, I couldn’t get myself beyond deeply despising him.
I tilted my head and dropped my shoulders in a “Do you think I’m stupid?” gesture. “I can do math, you know.”
Wil blanched even more—soon, he was going to match his sweater. “We did not kiss until after,” he made a breaking apart gesture with his hands. “For respect to you.”
“Respect? Oh, wow, aren’t you considerate.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm, which he was sure to understand even if he didn’t get all I was saying. “Was tagging me in that Photogram out of respect, too?”
“Liesel thought—” he said, stopped, then started again, still cowed. “She saw your text and thought, perhaps—”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Oh, Liesel thought?” Great, now he’d ruined The Sound of Music for me forever. “Please, tell me what utter genius Liesel came up with.”
“She thought I was not…” he furrowed his brow, searching for the right word in a way I used to think was cute. Now, it was just annoying. “Obvious to you.”
“Obvious that you’re a massive a-hole?”
“No, obvious that we are not getting back together,” he said, in a tone I knew was meant to be gentle, sympathetic, and calming. Like I was a child who needed things spelled out to her.
That made my blood boil. If Wil was turning white, my cheeks were probably coral. “Oh, you were pretty obvious about that when we broke up. I’ve moved on, too, but you don’t see me posting pics of me kissing the guys I kissed after we broke up.”
“I am sorry. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” I looked at the clock and posed my finger over the red “close chat” button. “I have to go do way more important things than talking with someone who jerked me around. Have a nice life with Liesel.”
“Goodb-” I hung up on him before he could finish.
Exhaustion poured over me as I shut down the chat program and flipped my tablet face-down so I didn’t have to see the chat request messages coming through. Missing breakfast to tear into my ex-boyfriend while he tried to look calm on his side of the ocean took every last bit of fight out of me.
I looked up from my lap when a coffee and a scone appeared on my nightstand. “It’s pumpkin spice and the white stuff on the scone is clotted cream. Eat it. I know you said you weren’t hungry, but I don’t want you to be up at the podium with your stomach growling,” Ann said, sounding bossier than I’d ever heard her before. She went to grab her speech folder and breezed towards the door again. “I have to go, it’s my turn soon.”
I pushed the scone aside and took a quick sip of coffee. “Thanks, but I don’t have time to eat. You know that. We’re in the same group this morning.”
“Oh, didn’t they tell you? You were moved to the last group right before lunch.”
“But it’s in alphabetical order,” I protested, but Ann opened the door and waved.
“Something about schedule changes. Wisconsin switched with you and Kris. Anyway, see you there.”
“Good luck,” I said, waving weakly. I picked at the scone, breaking it into crumbly bites. The schedule change was huge, giving me time to pull myself together. After what happened with Kris last night and the morning’s call, there was no way I’d be mentally ready in time for a nine a.m. speech. I was a great actor, but not that great, not yet.
A thought hit me, and I froze mid-scone-bite. Ann had been spending the past week re-reading and studying everyone’s speeches, comparing them to hers. What if she wanted me out of the competition and this was her way of disqualifying me? As much as I hated feeling suspicious about someone I liked, I rushed to pull on a pair of shoes and head downstairs to check, just in case.
Right before getting to the lobby, I saw Kris lounging against the wall, flipping through his own bright blue speech folder. I froze, trying to think of another way to get to the lobby without him seeing me, but then he looked up with the tiniest smile I’d ever seen. “Hey, isn’t it awesome that they moved our time?”
“So it’s true?” I awkwardly tried to imitate his pose against the opposite wall. Last night’s kiss came right the front of my mind and I had to fight the urge to recreate it right there in the hallway. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Some scheduling issue, so they switched us with the guys from Wisconsin. It’s weird, but I’m not going to complain about the extra time.” He pushed away from the wall and walked close enough to me to be at hover distance but far enough away that he didn’t invade my personal space. “I heard from Ann you were on a call with Wil this morning? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It only took two texts and going through Alec to guilt him into accepting my chat request this time.”
“So, are you two…?” Now he was the one who looked uncomfortable while making a “back together” gesture with his hands.
“After what he did to me?” Why was he curious about our relationship status? I shook my head and reminded myself Kris was still my competition. And probably playing me in a different way than Wil had been. “Hell, no. But I tore him a new one and probably scared him into never dating another American again.”
He reached out and I thought he was about to touch my arm or something, but then his arm swung back and he scratched the back of his neck instead. “Way to represent our country, Katsaros.”
“All in the name of diplomatic unity, right?” I cringed, my brain going straight for every bit of innuendo he could get from it. “That didn’t sound right.”
“And this is when I leave before I say something that will get me in trouble.” He waved his folder at me. “I’d better go back to my room and practice some more.” He turned, then, after a few steps, stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. “Rest up and forget that asshole, because you’re going to need all the energy you can get to even get close to my awesomeness.” Without a wave or another word, he walked around the corner towards the boys’ side of the inn, cocky swagger in every step.
Maybe going over my speech and eating breakfast were both great ideas.
I closed my eyes and began another round of breathing exercises, my belly expanding with every inhale and flattening again under my hands as I exhaled through my mouth. In and out, until the tension in my body slowly released. I slipped Lauren’s patch out of my speech folder and worried the edges with my fingers, taking comfort in the now familiar stitches. Next to me, Kris paced up and down the hallway with headphones on, probably trying to drown out the other speeches. The organizers let us stay outside the main hall until our turn, but I could still hear the speeches through the open door. The boy from West Virginia stepped up to the microphone and my nerves came back in a wave. We were next, and since the competition believed in “ladies first,” that meant I was up on deck.
I waved Kris down and pointed towards the door. Without turning off his music, he nodded and followed me as I slowly made my way into the hall and towards the front.
Breathe, in and out. I deserved to be here. Another set of breaths. I was going to be amazing. I always was.
West Virginia finished his speech and, as I started up the steps to the stage, Kris slipped off his headphones, reached up, and squeezed my arm. “Be incredible. Make me work for first place.”
Just his touch made my breathing speed up again and, as I took my last steps towards the podium, I did another set of breathing exercises to try and get it back to normal. Laying my folder on the podium and the patch right next to it, I adjuste
d the microphone and looked out on the conference room. It took every ounce of effort in me not to look to the left, where Kris was standing. A tiny thrill ran through my body.
“Be incredible,” I said under my breath, before opening my folder and starting my speech.
For five minutes, the world fell away. I became my words and they filled the room, soaring and dipping with feeling. I poured my thoughts and beliefs out to the audience, opened myself up to show the raw, real me. “…I still have a long way to grow. But every day, with every step I take to make myself a better, more educated person about the problems in the world, and every step I take to support those making a difference, that’s a step closer to me finding a way to lead change. I want to be like those people who shaped our country, someone who is not afraid to stand up to the conventions to make change happen. And I can do it. We all can do it, if we just stand up for what we believe, pick up our pens, our phones, use our voices. I’m a teenager. I can’t vote, but I can educate others about voting. I don’t have the money to donate, but I can donate my time. I can make a difference and can learn how to keep making a difference as I grow. And I can get there by looking at history and using it to help push me into the future, because I am still growing into this person I aspire to be, and I am the future.” The echo of my voice faded from the room and I found that my hands were still shaking the tiniest amount as little tremors ran through my body. It took all my focus to smile and make my way off the stage without tripping. Speaking my own words to a room full of people was so much more powerful and emotional than anything I’d ever done before. Not even becoming one of Shakespeare’s characters for two hours had this much of an impact on me.
Dramatically Ever After Page 22
