Page 69 of Hypothetical Heart
“Sorry, Mom, we were just going over something from Calc.”
“That’s what you rushed over here for?” Mom directs her question toward Winnie. “Math help?”
I force myself not to wince at the fact I’m relying on Winnie’s lying skills right now.
“Yeah,” she answers. “I’ve been really hung up on what we’re working on.”
“Mhm…” she hums, keeping her lips sealed. “Well, I’ll let you keep working.”
“Yup,” Winnie says, sitting on my bed.
“And Logan?” My mom calls as she backs out of the room.
I turn back, raising my eyebrows in response. “Yeah?”
“You’ve got a little something.” Her voice is pointed as she wipes her hand along her own cheek before exiting the room.
“Oh my God.” Winnie looks like a deer in headlights. “You have lipstick on your face, Logan!”
“Holy shit.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and open my camera app. I’m met with the sight of light pink lipstick surrounding my mouth and on my cheek.
“I didn’t see it because the light was off,” she sighs. “Logan, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey.” I grab her hands, pulling her to stand in front of me. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t notice either.”
“How could you have?” Guilt is written all over her face, and it breaks my heart.
“It doesn’t matter, Win. My mom doesn’t even care.”
“I care,” she emphasizes. “I don’t want your mom to see me as…”
“See you as what? A whore?” The idea that my mom would see Winnie as anything other than the girl I grew up in love with is absolutely ridiculous. “You have to know that’s not plausible, Win.”
“I know, I know.” She walks toward the door, opening it and looking into the hallway—making sure it’s clear—before heading into the bathroom Jameson and I share. She comes back with a washcloth in her hand. “Let me at least get the lipstick off your face.”
“Have at it.” Whatever helps ease her anxiety.
Winnie grabs me by the back of the neck, pulling the chair I’m in closer to the edge of the bed before she sits in front of me. She traces my jaw with the washcloth, and I close my eyes momentarily at the warmth before I remember there’s something so much better to see.
Winnie Carter, in her natural ambiance, radiates the type of energy every person wants to be around, and her caring nature makes it so I can’t look away.
“Everything okay?” I ask when she pulls away.
She nods, and I brush a piece of hair out of her face.
“I promise my mom isn’t going to say anything bad about you. You know she never would. She loves you.” Winnie doesn’t reply; she only looks away from my gaze. “In fact, she’s probably downstairs squealing on the phone with Luke’s mom, saying this is all she’s ever wanted.”
“My mom would be just as giddy,” she says, smiling softly.
We both know how being together is like writing on the wall; everyone knows it’s bound to happen one day.
The only thing I can’t discern is whether Winnie still considers our kiss practice or not because I sure as hell don’t. But I have to contain my true feelings in order to account for hers.
“We don’t have to kiss at the end of our dance, you know.”
A small frown stretches across her face. “Do you not want to?”
“Don’t worry, Win, you’re a great kisser, A+.” I ease her fears quickly. “I’m just letting you know, in case it still makes you nervous.”
