Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Right.
Well.
That’s convenient.
“Hey guys.”
They both jerk in surprise then look up at me with guilt in their eyes. Gabriella scoots away from Lorenzo, trying to put some space between them.
I wave to let her know not to bother. “I don’t…whatever is or isn’t happening here, that’s…listen, Noah just left because…well, I don’t know exactly, but I’m gonna leave too.”
Wow, so this is what it would sound like if I lost half my brain cells.
They both have the decency to look worried.
“Is he all right?” Gabriella asks, her gaze flitting toward the door. “Should I go check on him?”
She doesn’t sound too enthusiastic about it. I can tell she’s only offering because she knows it’s the right thing to do.
“No. You two stay. Please. Enjoy, um…I was going to say the food, but we didn’t actually order. Sorry about that.” I’m starting to back away as if hoping to vanish into thin air, but then I pause and lean back in, gesturing between them. “I don’t know how to put this in a way that doesn’t seem awkward, so I’m just going to flat-out say it. You two seem to have a lot in common, and if you’re interested in each other, go for it. Lorenzo, I’m not…in a good place, apparently. I realize that now and I’m sorry. And Gabriella, I can’t speak for Noah, but…”
I decide that’s as good a place as any to stop talking. They meet each other’s eyes, and I just know the second I walk away from this weird interaction, they’re going to have a lot to say.
Her cheeks looked flushed. Do you think her cheeks looked flushed?
Noah just up and left?
And COME ON—they didn’t even order us food?
I offer a pathetic little wave then turn and have tunnel vision on the exit until I reach it, push through the door, and escape out into the night.
Chapter Twelve
My head is a mess of confusing thoughts. Outside the bar, I’m trying to think so hard and so fast—to make sense of the last few minutes—that I actually get a headache from it. Or maybe that’s just the aftereffects of the sun, and the shot, and the zero calories I’ve put into my body since lunch time.
For the last few years, Noah has been a constant in my life. Through hard breakups and moves, my dad’s cancer scare, and a bad set of bangs, he’s been my counterpart. My other half. My dependable nemesis.
Tonight might have changed that, and I only have myself to blame.
Like someone teeing up the perfect joke, I delivered myself to Noah on a silver platter. He couldn’t resist taking things as far as he did. I behaved poorly, and he one-upped me. This…this was the worst thing he’s ever done.
There have been a few times in my life when I’ve felt soul-crushingly sad or lonely. When I didn’t get invited to Lauren Valentine’s birthday party in the fifth grade, which included a limo ride to a Jonas Brothers concert and produced a bevy of inside jokes I was forced to endure for the next year of my life. Sorry, Audrey. You had to be there. When I didn’t get into my top-choice college that all my friends were going to, I thought it was the end of the world. When I didn’t land that job at a publishing house in my early twenties, I thought I was a loser and a failure, especially when I had to move back in with my parents for a few months (okay, a year) because I couldn’t make rent in the city. When I walk through the streets of Rome tonight and pass a couple sitting on a stoop, sharing a bottle of wine and leaning into each other, laughing, silly, in love, it hurts to look at them. It hurts to realize how far I am from being part of something like that.
Tonight, I was kissed, and it was real-life fairytale magic. Pixie dust included.
Then, I realized it was actually nothing. A farce.
A harsh reminder of how lonely and alone I am.
Back at St. Cecilia’s, I stand in the hallway outside Noah’s door with my hand clenched in a fist. Knocking would be so easy. Taking us back to baseline would take no effort at all.
Hey, let’s forget about the bar. In the morning, you can tease me and I’ll act annoyed and everything will be right in the world. How ’bout it?
But my fist won’t move.
I can’t do it.
My feelings were really hurt tonight.
Noah kissing me like that, making me feel like he could…maybe…it doesn’t matter. It took our antics to a level we’ve never ventured to before. It was cruel, and I can’t yet forgive him for it. Maybe also, deep down, I’m not ready to forgive myself either.
I let my hand fall back limp by my side and turn for my room, closing my door softly behind me. I strip out of my dress and put on the comfiest clothes I can find. I consider texting Kristen and Melissa about everything, but I know they’d have no patience for me. At this point, they’ve heard me complain about Noah far too much.