Page 50 of Nobody in Particular

“Danni?” she says. “I know they saw the photos.”

My brain must be lagging behind, because I’m lost. “Who?”

“The person I have feelings for. I already know they saw the photos of Alfie and me.”

I’m not allowed to read into this. Ipromisedmyself. She said guy, specifically, which means this isn’t going anywhere. Why is my heart racing like this? Stopracing.

I close my eyes and will myself to breathe. “How do you know?”

She takes ages to reply. Long enough that I think she’s decided not to. Long enough that, when her voice finally cuts through the heavy silence, I’m surprised to hear it.

“I started to say it, but then I panicked, and I lied. And now I’m going to tell the truth, and if you hate the truth, can we please pretend I kept lying?”

I don’t reply, because I can’t possibly get a single word out right now. I’m not sure I even remember how to speak at all.

“I know they saw the photos, because they congratulated me on them about ten minutes ago.”

I try to keep breathing, but everything stops, and all I can do is let my mouth fall open while my insides cave in and my whole world implodes. It’s not possible she said what she just said. I misheard it. I’m misinterpreting it. Somehow. I can’t think how, but I must be. Any second now she’s going to continue, and it’s going to be clear I was imagining things, like I always am.

But for the life of me, I can’t think of any other way she could have meant it.

So, I let my heart race. I manage to suck in a lungful of frozen air, and I let my mind fog, and I let my head turn to finally look at her. And she’s looking right back at me.

A part of me wants to take a step back still. A hard lump clogs my throat. I fully expect her to laugh, or worse, ask me what I’m looking at.

But she doesn’t. She just watches me through dimly lit, green eyes. Her forehead creases, and I realize I need to say something. Anything. Because if she really just said what I think she just said, then…

“I said it was awesome,” I murmur. “You and Alfie. But I meant it was the worst thing I’d ever seen.”

Rose steps in front of me, grabbing my head between two hands and, when I respond by tipping my chin up and parting my lips, she pulls me roughly in to kiss her.

As our lips meet, she makes a small, strangled sound. Something like surprise and relief all in one. And wanting. Her fingers trail down my cheeks to rest at my neck, and her chest meets mine. And in the darkness, under the cover of the woods, I press my body flush against hers and kiss her with a desperation I didn’t know I could feel.

All at once, she breaks away and steps back from me. I gasp from shock and adrenaline, and lean forward to rest my hands on myknees. Meanwhile, Rose touches her mouth with her fingertips, staring into the distance. “What are we doing?” she asks.

Good question,I think, trying to focus. She kissed me. Rose kissed me. And I’m awake.

Rose kissed me, and now she’s pacing back and forth. “What are wedoing?” she asks again. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry I did that. Oh mygod.”

I watch her go forward and backward, blinking, while I let myself fall back against the tree.

Rose kissed me, Rose,Rose,she—

She stops short and opens her mouth. Then she apparently thinks better of it, because she throws her hands up into the air. I think it’s my turn to say something.

“You okay?” I ask, mostly because she very obviously isn’t.

“Yes. No. Maybe?” She clasps her hands in front of her, and she sort of looks like she’s praying. “What should we do? Should we go back? Maybe we should go back.”

Does she mean to school? Or back in time? “Do you want to go back?” I ask.

She hugs herself, and her fingernails dig harsh dents into her jacket sleeve. “I—I, um. No? No.”

She looks like her thoughts are a whirlwind. But for me, the world is crisp, and clear, and simple.

“Neither do I,” I say, and she finally meets my eyes. And I see everything in them. Everything.

She approaches me with a fierce look, and I stare her down, steady and totally sure. She rests her forehead against mine first, her breath trembling. I think she’s expecting me to pull away, or tell her this is a bad idea. I don’t do either of those things. I just wait for her to figure out her next move. Every second she spends like this tightens the pit of my stomach more and more, until it feels like I might die if I can’t taste her again.

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