I want no rules. Nothing between her and me. Ever.
“Not the hug … the kiss …” Her eyes descend to my lips and then to her lap. “I can’t do this anymore,” she mutters. “God, how did our friendship get so complicated?”
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” I say, knowing I’m treading on thin ice. But I don’t want to fight my feelings anymore. And with how much we’ve been kissing lately, I know she has to feel something more than just friendship. “If you’d just stop fighting what you really want and let yourself have what you want.”
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and peers up at me. “That’s the problem. My mother wanted something all the time, and she kept looking for it in the bartender or the next-door neighbor. Even my teacher once.”
“Really? Which one?”
“Mr. Deliebufey.”
I don’t know what kind of face I pull, but it causes her to giggle.
She covers her mouth with her hand. “I really shouldn’t be laughing about that.”
“No, you definitely should.” I smile, mostly because she’s smiling. “We should’ve laughed about it back in fifth grade when it happened. Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”
She lowers her hand from her mouth and gives a half-shrug. “Because I was embarrassed. I mean, he was our teacher, and he wore that gross toupee that looked like a dead cat.”
“Oh, my God, I forgot about the toupee.” I pull a face. “Okay, I’m not a fan of your mom, but she seriously sold herself short dating him.”
“That was kind of my point. She always dated these sleazebags because she was desperate and didn’t want to be alone. Then they would break her heart, and she’d fall apart until she met someone new and then try to clean up her act. At least, that’s how she used to be. Then she started dating drug addicts and got high all the time.” She sighs, her shoulders hunching inward. “I don’t want to turn out like her. I really don’t.”
I gape at her. “Wait, you think you’re going to turn out like your mom?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Sometimes, I wonder if I will. And then I started working at that place where she worked once … and then the whole thing with you …” She grows quiet, staring out the window.
“What whole thing with me?” I ask softly, my heart hammering in my chest.
Her shoulders rise and fall as she breathes in and out. Then she turns her head toward me. Her eyes are glossed over with tears, radiating her fear. “You’ve always taken care of me, and I’ve always loved it more than I wanted to admit. I remember that time when I was fourteen and you came and picked me up from my house. When you put your arm around me, I’d never felt safer in my entire life. And when you made that promise to me … I wanted it so much. But wanting something like that from someone else … getting so consumed by someone … It’s what destroys my mom time and time again. She’s never been able to handle being on her own unless she’s high or drunk … I want to be able to say that I’d be okay if you left me, but even just thinking about you leaving me makes my heart ache.” She’s breathing fiercely at the end, as if her words have shocked her to death.
My reaction mirrors hers. Never have I imagined she feels the same way about me as I do her. I have no fucking clue how to handle her fear. And it’s all because she thinks I’ll break her heart, and she’ll go off the deep end like her mom.
“You want to know the first time I realized I liked you more than as a friend?” I ask and then hold my breath, worried she’ll say no.
She wavers for what seems like the end of all time before giving an unsteady nod.
“It was back when I came home from that trip from Paris—when I gave you the snow globe.” I feel like I’m about to cut my heart out, hold it out to her, and hope she’ll take it, which kind of seems really disgusting when I think about it. “You looked so different, and I remember noticing. I thought I was just being weird after not seeing you for three months and just really missed you. But then Levi, this guy I hung out with sometimes,