Page 65 of Tied

I chew on my tattered fingernail. “I just… froze. I think I did the play dead thing. Like I used to.”

She reaches across the couch and touches my arm. “Holly, it’s all right. It was new and scary. You weren’t ready. Remember in therapy we talked about how we should make our partners aware? Steve and I talked about what happened to me for hours and hours before anything happened between us. We took things really slow. Maybe you guys should have talked about this beforehand. I didn’t realize you were more than friends.”

“Neither did I. Not until today.” Is that true? Lately, I’ve been wishing to be more than friends, and I’ve daydreamed about him holding my hand, hugging me with his beautiful arms, and—yes—even kissing me, but I had no idea kissing would feel so… intense and consuming. How was I to know it would leave me breathless and powerless—feelings I had only ever associated with pain and fear? I didn’t know those feelings could also be so deliciously good. Feather’s right, I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t know, and I ruined our first kiss.

Possibly our last kiss.

“I think I need to go call him,” I say. “We didn’t exactly end the day on a good note.”

“Are you sure you want to talk to him? Maybe you need to step away for a while, give yourself more time before you get involved with him.”

“I alreadyaminvolved.” I stand and grab my backpack and my blanket. “Thank you for talking with me. I feel better now.”

“I’m here if you need to talk more. I’ll be home all night.”

Once in my room, I close the door softly behind me, change into sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and call Ty’s phone from mine. It rings four times and goes to his voice mail, which is nothing but a beep, not his voice, which I want to hear so badly right now.

That’s odd. He always answers when I call him, unless he’s on the bike. I send him a text message:

Hi… I tried to call you

Tyler

I didn’t answer. I’m having trouble talking.

Oh no :-( Why?

Tyler

Just stress shit. Don’t worry about it.

No little smiley faces accompany his words, a clear sign that he’s angry or upset.

Can we talk on here for a few minutes?

Tyler

Ok. If you want to.

I’m sorry. About earlier.

Tyler

Don’t be. It’s forgotten.

My chest aches.

Don’t say that.

Tyler

You’re not the first girl to reject me. Won’t be the last, either.

I stare at the small screen with tears in my eyes. This is not my prince talking.

That’s not it at all. I was just scared. I couldn’t breathe.

Tyler

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