Page 64 of As They Are
Kissing (but not real kissing)
Don’ts:
Catching feelings
Touching her when I want to
Letting her stay over
Letting her see the real me
Normally, lists made me feel better, but this one would be hard to follow. My own fledgling feelings would make this difficult.
But I was the one she chose, so I had to do my best.
After I had my rules down, I forced myself to go through my routine and try to get it together. Once I was outside and with my plants, I felt more like myself. It only got better after I cooked and ate dinner.
Still, the nervousness simmered under the surface of my skin. I tried to find a book to read. Something in my house to calm the feeling.
When nothing worked, I knew I needed to go on a walk and hope no one talked to me. The roads were thankfully deserted. I didn’t follow a path and allowed my feet to lead me wherever I needed to go.
Eventually, I found myself at the library.
But for once, the lights were on. After being here for so many years and seeing nothing but the same thing over and over, it was shocking to see it breathing again.
I looked around for the crew, but only saw a red truck. Wren was here.
It was a bad idea to see her so soon after this afternoon, but I was sure she was in there alone. And I didn’t like the idea of that.
The second I entered, there was a bang so loud that it made every one of my hairs stand on edge. I jumped, wondering if she’d fallen. The bangs kept coming, and I ran into her on the second floor, swinging a sledgehammer against wooden shelves.
I would have left if she’d looked normal. But she was covered in sweat and her movements were wild.
“Fuck.” She swung. “Everything.” Again. “About.” Another. “This!”
The final hit brought the old shelf down, and her chest heaved. She went to hit it again, but I stopped the sledgehammer mid-air.
“Wren,” I said. “What’re you doing?”
Her eyes were wide. “Henry? What are you doing here?”
“I was out for a walk and saw you here alone.” I took the sledgehammer from her. “Now I wonder if it was on purpose.”
“You got me. Now leave me to my meltdown. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you avoiding something again?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Does it matter?”
“Everything matters. Especially when it comes to you.”
My words made her eyes widen for a moment. Then she blew out a breath. “Just go and let me smash things. It’s how I process bullshit.”
Wren took the sledgehammer and returned to the job, hitting the other shelf with all of her might. The noise was overwhelming and I cringed at every hit, but refused to move.
She was mad. Anyone could see that, but anger always had something simmering underneath, waiting to spring free.
Eventually, she stopped and she hiccupped. Her shoulders fell and I knew the moment had come.
