Page 10 of The Kissing Booth
I raised an eyebrow as he wandered back over and straddled a chair facing me.
But, even in my state of mind, I knew the thought was ridiculous.
‘Aren’t you drunk?’ I asked him.
‘Not really.’
‘Aw, why? It’s your party. Go crazy!’
‘I think you were being crazy enough for the both of us.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, pouting a little. ‘I didn’t mean to spoil your fun.’
Noah laughed at me.
I clambered to the edge of the bed and swung my legs back and forth, sitting on my hands. ‘Noah...’
‘Yes.’
‘Will youpleasedo the kissing booth for us?’
‘No.’
‘Please?’ I begged, bouncing up and down on the springy mattress. Wow. It was like a trampoline or something! Like Lee’s bed. ‘Please, please, pretty please with a cherry on top?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’ I whined. ‘You’re so mean!’
‘I don’t want to do a kissing booth, simple as.’
‘Butwhy?’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘Please? It’s – I think it’s for cancer. Or maybe it’s for the dolphins. That’s a funny word isn’t it, dolphins? Dolphins... Dol... phins... Like dolly-fins.’
‘I’m not going to do the kissing booth, no matter who or what it’s for.’
I got up and moved over to crouch right in front of him, so close that our noses were almost touching. ‘Not even for me?’
He shook his head. Then – ‘Man, your breath stinks. How much vodka did you have, Elle?’
‘I don’t know. Dixon poured it.’
He sighed. ‘Those guys... I swear...’
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Fine, don’t tell me then.’ I shot back up straight and staggered back, the whole room pitching around me and turning gray and fuzzy around the edges.
‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’
Noah was already shoving me into the bathroom, and pushed me over the toilet bowl in time for me to puke my guts up.
Once that was over and I was done dry-heaving, I flopped down on the cold tile floor, my head lolling against the edge of the bathtub. A glass of cold water was pushed against my lips, and he made me drink it up.
