“Hey,” he says, touching my elbow, “you okay?”
How can I possibly be okay when this feels like it should be a date…even though it can’t be one?
Maybe it could be one if you’d just tell him the truth.
Gee, I wonder who that sounds like.
“Yeah,” I lie, starting to walk toward the front counter, “let’s get some skates.”
After we choose our skates and pay (because I was NOT going to let him pay for both of us, ESPECIALLY since this isn’t a date), we walk over to one of the sitting areas so we can put our skates on.
“They haven’t changed much here, huh?” Brayden comments, looking around as he takes his shoes off. “That’s nice.”
Nice would be less small talk…
I shove my second foot into the other skate. “Mm-hmm.”
“Ya know,” he drawls once we both have our skates on, “I have a bad feeling that I’m probably going to fall before I even make it to the rink.”
Considering the rink is only a few feet away, he really shouldn’t have any time to fall.
“Well,” I say, standing to my feet, “you did say that we’re here to cheer me up.”
His eyebrows crease at that. “It kind of sounds like you want me to fall.”
Guilty as charged.
I prop my hands on my hips. “Are we skating or not?”
He lets out a light scoff before motioning to the rink. “After you.”
I turn away from him with an eye-roll and begin to take a few careful steps forward.
Brayden makes some sort of struggling noises, and I hide what would probably be considered as an evil grin. “Are you good back there?”
He laughs, but it sounds more like a wheeze. “Yeah, I mean, I haven’t fallen yet.”
And to think he used to be so confident about roller skating. After all, that’s why he chose it to be our first date.
I stop my toddler-walking and glance back at him. Not only is he walking in slow motion, but he’s looking down at his feet.
I turn so I can fully watch him. “You shouldn’t be looking down like that.”
“I know, I know,” he huffs with a mild curse, barely lifting his head, “I told you it’s been a while.”
I don’t know why, but I extend my hand out to him, and he doesn’t waste a second in grabbing it. And even though I tell myself he’s just worried about falling, I can’t help wondering if there’s more to it than that.
“There,” he says, now meeting my gaze, “I’m sure I’ll be fine once I’m on the rink.”
Three minutes later, he falls on said rink.
I try not to laugh—I swear that I do—but he went down in the most disgraceful way. Arms failing and all.
“Are you okay?” I ask, holding back another snicker as I extend both hands to him. “I told you to stop looking down.”
He takes one of my hands and starts to push himself up with his other hand. “Well, not looking down is a lot harder than I remembered.”
“Are you okay?” I repeat myself once he’s standing up all the way. “I can wave someone over.”
I’d rather not though, because now he’s holding both of my hands and I’m totally okay with that.
Dang it, Megan! You’re only making this worse for yourself…
“I’ll probably bruise,” he responds with a shrug, “but otherwise I’m fine. I got you to laugh.” He gives my hands a light squeeze. “That’s a plus.”
I can’t take it. This should ABSOLUTELY be a date, and I’m so annoyed that it’s not.
“Consider me cheered up then,” I manage to say, licking my lips, “which means no more falling.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up. “No promises.” He then uses my hands to pull himself closer to me. “Ya know…there’s something I’ve been wondering about for a while now.”
Wow, is he smooth.
I swallow, hoping he can’t hear how fast my heart is beating over the pop music playing through the speakers. “What’s that?”
“In the note you gave me, you said I was a bad kisser…” He tilts his head to the side as his eyes study mine. “But we never even kissed.”
I just stare at him while mentally cursing Lora. This is all HER fault. She’s the one that said I had to list the reasons why I needed to break up with him. She’s the one that asked if he was a bad kisser. And she’s the one that insisted he wouldn’t remember the stupid note or what I wrote in it! This is so flippin’ humiliating!
What am I supposed to do? What should I say? Why is he bringing it up now? We’re supposed to be “friends,” and he’s over here thinking about how we never kissed!
Don’t get your hopes up…
“I um—” I stop and slip my hands out of his grasp. “I was really hoping you didn’t remember anything else from that note.”
He shakes his head with a slight laugh. “I remember everything from that note.”
Lora is never going to hear the end of this.
“So,” he drawls, resting his hand on the railing next to us, “are you going to tell me why you wrote that I was a bad kisser? Or do I have to keep wondering about it?”
He is not making this easy for me.
AT. ALL.
“It was just…some stupid middle school girl logic,” I say, deciding to go with a safe answer, “that’s all.”
“But—”
“Why were you wondering about it so much?” I interrupt, wanting the focus to be on him instead of me.
Of course, I’m also asking because: HELLO? HE’S BEEN THINKING ABOUT HOW WE NEVER KISSED! WHICH MEANS HE’S BEEN THINKING ABOUT US KISSING!
I am far from okay right now.
“Uh…” he trails off, rubbing the back of
