Page 42 of Moonstruck at Midnight
“Thank you.”
“I don’t know what to call you,” he said as I turned my back at him. I was ready to call it a night. “I’m not calling you Billie.” I realized that not once had I ever heard him call meBillie. He kept calling me 9A.
“And why is that? Do you want to be the only Billy in the building?”
“Guillermina,” he muttered. He did an excellent job rolling his r’s.
“Present,” I replied, crossing my arms at my stomach. I figured Eric told him what my name was. I considered pulling out a chair, wondering if he planned to leave any time soon. I was so tired of standing by the door and having him look like …thatwhile I looked likethis.
“Guille.” He pronounced itGhee-ye.
That’s how my mom used to call me. It felt too intimate, and it reminded me of her, so I took a deep breath and chewed my bottom lip, hoping it would hold all of my emotions in place. All I wanted was to get into my apartment and go to sleep, but William just stood there.
“Guille is fine.” But was it? I thought about how I never saw him anyway. Agreeing was the fastest way to end the conversation.
“Thanks for bringing the camera over. Have a good night, William.” It was hard for me to call him Billy, too. I don’t know why it just felt weird.
I noticed his silence and turned around to walk back into my apartment, assuming he was ready to say goodbye too. But he twirled me by the shoulders and crushed his lips against mine. I recoiled immediately by pushing his chest and slapping him in the face.
Hard.
He cupped his left cheek, where I’d struck him, and shot one of his cocky smirks at me. He seemed to enjoy the slap even more than the stolen kiss for some reason. “Don’t youevertry something like that again, William. I have a boyfriend.” I warned him.
“If you say so,” he replied, smug face and all. “I don’t recall anyone pulling away from me before.”
Asshole!Arrogant,asshole!
“Really? I find that hard to believe,” I said with a bite. But I believed him.Look at that ridiculously perfect face!Who was going to pull away from him?
“Never.” He grinned. I snorted and shook my head with incredulity.
“Well, consider this a first.” I angrily swung the door, but he stuck his foot before I could shut it in his face.
“I’ll be taking care of the rest of your firsts once you’re done with Thomas,” he said with his gruff voice through the small opening of the door.
Thanks for the heads up,you jerk!
Thenerveof the guy. And there I was, thinking he was nice and feeling sorry for his troubles. “Well, good luck with that.” I kept pushing the door, trying to shut it.
“Guille, come on, open up.”
I was done with him.
“Just stay away, William.” I pushed his foot out of the way and sealed the door shut.
“Never!”he shouted. I swear I heard a laugh.
I grabbed the seven flowers and felt tempted to throw them out, but I placed them under my pillow, hoping that my luck would improve after that Midsummer Night’sNightmare.
June 21, 2009
I WOKE UP FEELINGparched, and my hair looked crazy. The braid that went over my head like a headband was still messily in place—a reflection of how things ended the night before.
It was eleven in the morning, and I couldn’t recall any time in my life when I’ve awakened so late. I had a few text messages from Thomas waiting for me.
The overwhelming guilt kept eating at my thoughts as I went over and over that stolen kiss in my head. But I decided not to say a word to Thomas about it, fearing his reaction. The important part was that I pulled away from William’s unwelcome advances.
Thomas:Good Morning, gorgeous.
