How are we going to hide this from our parents?
The wordreboundflitters among the stars I'm still seeing.
He's merely a distraction. But when his hands close over my back, and he holds onto me in this passionate embrace, I feel as though I'm falling.
Falling in love or falling apart, only time will tell.
Ourfearsarereversedas we are adults sneaking backintothe house, as opposed to teenagers sneakingout. But it's dead silent as we tiptoe up the stairs.
It's the night of the reunion all over again. Do I go back to my room and he goes back to his? How would I feel if he wanted to sleep with me again, this time not against his will?
"I'm going to go to my room now. I feel like you might freak out and need some time to process—"
"I'll be fine," I assure him
"You're not regretting anything yet, are you?"
"No."
"Okay, if you need to talk about it, you know where to find me."
"I promise I'll be fine. I'll see you at the party tomorrow."
"I'll be there."
Myassumptionsabouttossingand turning all night were so far from accurate. I assumed I'd be overanalyzing everything that happened between us, but I slept like a goddamn baby. Deep slumber, no dreams, refreshed as hell.
There's already a commotion happening outside my window, and when I remove the blankets from my body and plant my feet on the carpet, my lower half is sore. As Theo predicted, I'm reminded of our dalliance from hours ago as my inner thighs are sticky.
My dad waves at me from the pool as I glare out my window. He motions for me to open my balcony door.
"Morning," he says to me like I'm Rapunzel in her tower.
Waving back and shielding the sun from my eyes, I greet, "Morning! What are you doing?"
"Spraying down the patio furniture and cement. Do you like my outfit?"
He does a spin in his fire engine red shorts, and I laugh when his feet get tangled in the hose. He's every Tom Hanks father character wrapped into one.
"We don't need an accident to start this day!" I shout.
"Come down soon and help me."
He proceeds to spray down the lounge chairs, including the one that assisted us last night. We could have gotten caught. The chances were slim, but we can't be that senseless. If it happens again, which I hope it does, we can't be doing this out in the open.
Closing myself back in my room, I open my closet and riffle through the clothes I have hanging up. I never intended to settle down here. I figured I could live out of my suitcase, and I'd be on my way before I had a chance to wear everything I packed.
Boy was I sorely mistaken.
Scanning through the clean items, I settle on light-wash, frayed jean shorts I forgot I had. I have a blue bikini, so I'll wear that under a sheer white tank top. Someone has to have a red bandanna I can borrow. Or if it's anything like previous years, someone will bring props and items for a photo booth. I'll snag a cheap pair of red sunglasses.
But first, I need to shower.
The last thing I wanted was to revive the pipes with a late-night spray down. Old Amelia would have been disgusted sleeping in that…dampness.
However, this morning I waltz to the bathroom like a new woman.
Setting my clean clothes on the counter, I prepare for the inescapable questions I'll be bombarded with today. The neighbors will want to know everything I've been up to these past few years, and I'm not ready to give them a blow by blow of all my shortcomings.
