Page 33 of Practice Makes Perfect
“Look, Em—” he says at the same time as I say, “I should really?—”
We both laugh.
“You first,” I say.
“Can I walk you back to your dorm? I’d like to talk about the other night.”
My mouth goes dry. This is precisely the conversation I’ve been dreading and avoiding for two weeks. And, even though I’ve got a bold plan to find some trouble with him, I’d hoped for more time to get it straight in my head and build up the courage.
“There’s not much to talk about,” I say, clutching my chips tighter. “Something came up, and I had to go.”
“Something came up?” Linc repeats, skepticism evident in his tone. “While we were halfway through…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely between us.
“Yep. Emergency… goldfish situation.” I wince at my own absurd lie. “Very urgent. Could have been catastrophic.”
“You don’t have a goldfish.”
“I could have a goldfish.”
“Do you?”
“No,” I admit. “It was my roommate’s goldfish.”
“Lea doesn’t have a goldfish either.”
I give an exasperated sigh. “Fine, there was no goldfish emergency.”
“I figured.” Linc takes a step closer, his voice softening. “I’ve been worried that I pushed you into something you didn’t want. If I made you uncomfortable?—”
“No,” I interrupt, mortified that he’d think thathewas the problem. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why did you bolt like the place was on fire?”
I stare at the sidewalk, summoning courage. He has a right to know. Plus, he looks genuinely concerned, like he’s been carrying this worry for two weeks. And from the limited engagement we’ve had so far at Pine Barrens, I know he’s a good guy who doesn’t deserve to suffer because of my bullshit.
“You really want the truth? The awkward, uncomfortable truth?”
He nods. “Only if you want to tell me.”
“I—” I swallow hard. “I’ve never done… that. Any of that.”
His brow furrows, then clears as understanding dawns. “Oh. You haven’t?—”
“Had sex? No. Not even close.” I force myself to meet his eyes. “Things were happening so fast, and when you asked to unbutton my jeans, I just… panicked.”
“Em, that’s totally OK. You should have just told me. We could have slowed down or stopped.”
“Right, because that’s precisely what a guy with your reputation wants to hear—that the girl he’s with doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
“So you felt like leaving was your only option?”
“Exactly.”
Linc runs his fingers over the condensation on his Slurpee cup. “I wish you’d told me. I would have understood.”
“You say that now, but?—”
“Em, I’m not that guy. I wouldn’t have pressured you or made you feel bad about it.”
