Page 56 of Woke Up Like This
We sway around for a couple moments before he speaks again. “Can I be honest about something?”
“When aren’t you honest?”
“I always thought you deserved better than Kassie,” he says.
This surprises me, mostly because I’ve never heard him talk badly about Kassie. In fact, I assumed the opposite. That he’d encourage her not to be friends with me. I blink at him. “Really? Why?”
“You were an amazing friend to her.” I watch the green strobe light dance across his face as he finds the words. “You were always there for her. Always stood up for her, helped her pass high school. Come on, you know it’s true,” he says when I shake my head. “You did all her homework for her. She cheated off you all the time.”
“Okay, in her defense, she was a good friend to me too,” I point out. Aside from the fact that she never let me take photos on my good side. Or her inability to text me back in a reasonable time period. Or her inability to keep even the tiniest secret. “She’s always honest with me. Gives great advice. And sure, she always put Ollie first. But can I really blame her? He was her boyfriend and—”
“You deserve better friends,” he cuts in. This hits me in the gut. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. “Even if you are insufferable,” he adds with a laugh, pulling me closer. I actually like it. I want to be closer to him.
“As insufferable as you?”
“Not quite. But at least we can be insufferable together.”
I giggle into his chest, allowing myself to sag against him as the song comes to an end. When I dare to lift my face up, our eyes lock. It isn’t the intense staring contest we often find ourselves in. There are no daggers in his eyes. It’s something else, a softness I can’t quite pinpoint.
My body buzzes, and the sensation intensifies when he pulls my hips flush against his. My gaze drops to his mouth, and I can almostimagine myself popping onto my toes and brushing my lips against his. I wonder if he’d taste sweet, like the fruity punch we’ve been drinking all night.
He dips his chin, dropping his lips closer and closer until we’re exchanging short bursts of breath. But the moment my lips graze his, the song changes and the mood evaporates into dust and nothingness as the pack of students fills the dance floor again.
We stumble aside, the moment broken.
TWENTY-THREE
My ears are ringing by the time prom wraps up at eleven.
We only had one projectile vomiter, which our fellow chaperones deem a huge win.
“Nori texted me. She said Ollie’s is a little boring,” I tell Renner as we climb into the car. When he gives me a funny look, I’m quick to add, “Not that I don’t want to go over. I really want to go. I’m not ready to go home yet. Are you?”
Great. Now I’m babbling. This is new. I’ve never felt nervous or tongue-tied around Renner before. But after our almost-kiss on the dance floor, it’s like we’ve been tethered by an elastic band. And that band is now tight, wrought with tension. I wonder if he feels it too. Either way, I’m too much of an awkward potato to be alone with him much longer. Plus, I need a distraction from today.
Renner studies me. “You okay, Char?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem a little ... off. More off than usual. And that’s saying a lot,” he adds teasingly.
“My dad died,” I say suddenly.
Renner does a double take, jaw falling open. “What?”
“Today when I saw Kassie ... she told me the last time she saw us was at his funeral. Last year.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Fuck. Really?”
I nod.
“That explains why ...” He runs his hand over his beard. “My mom said something about how cute it was that your mom is walking you down the aisle. I didn’t even think—” He pauses, frantic. “Are you okay? You know what? We should just go home.”
“No.”
“Char, you just found out your dad died. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You shouldn’t have had to put on a happy face at prom—”
“No. Really, it’s fine. I mean ... I cried in public over it. I don’t really have anything left,” I say honestly, grimacing at the memory of Kassie comforting me on the sidewalk. “If anything, I feel worse for my sisters. They knew him better than I did. I haven’t talked to him—really talked to him—in forever.”
