by C.J Duggan
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I wasn't overly surprised that as I lay in bed after the disco, sleep eluded me that night. I stared up at my bedroom ceiling replaying the evening's events over and over in my mind.
I had kissed Toby Morrison. I had fucking kissed Toby Morrison!
Or more to the point, he had kissed me, and I had most certainly kissed him back, oh yes I had.
When Toby kissed me it was like I burned from the inside; I had never felt more alive, more wanted. The edges of any doubts I'd had, had melted into him. It had been fast, hot and completely unexpected, and then like that he was gone, leaving me in the darkened alcove, my hands shaking as I had touched my kiss-swollen lips.
When I had finally ventured out from behind the curtain, I had watched Toby's every move. He had mingled at the disco, his eyes darting towards me every now and then with an amused glint. And what did I do? I sat at the picnic table in a catatonic state of shock. As midnight struck, I lost Toby in the crowd as everyone poured out of the beer garden and lingered on the footpath under the bug-infested lights. I wandered around, trying to seek him out, but his truck was gone. It was a bittersweet feeling; he was gone but the memory of his kiss replayed in my mind.
The sun eventually crept into my room, and if I dozed at all, it had been briefly and with a wicked smile on my face.
It wasn't a dream.
As I skipped into the kitchen, already showered and ready for work, Mum and Dad both did a double take. Dad peered at the time on the microwave and cast a confused look back at Mum.
"Good morning!" I said, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.
"Who are you and what have you done with our daughter?"
I rolled my eyes and opened the fridge. I was absolutely ravenous.
"Going somewhere?" Mum looked alarmed; my early rising had deeply unsettled their routine.
I shrugged grabbing the milk. "Work."
"Honey, it's 7am, you don't have work for another five hours."
Yes, five long, hideous hours. I couldn't wait to see Ellie to tell her what had happened last night. I had thought of messaging or emailing her, but I wanted to see her reaction in person.
Five long hours away also meant hours without seeing Toby.
"What's wrong with being organised?" I threw back.
"Nothing, it's just ?" She floundered to think of something. Poor souls, I thought, first a summertime job, then helping them at the shop and now rising with the sun; it was all too much.
"What time did you get home?" Dad asked over his paper.
Uh-oh. If I told them, it wouldn't take them long to calculate just how little sleep I'd had and then they'd get all kinds of suspicions as to what had made their daughter so chipper this morning.
"Oh, not too late, you know how I love my beauty sleep."
He nodded and turned back to his paper, accepting it.
Boom! That's how it's done. Bullet dodged ? for now.
