As desperately as I have to pee, I can’t help but do a quick scan of the party on my way to the bathroom. I pretend I’m doing it to make sure everybody’s staying in line and not messing up the house too much.
But of course I’m looking for him.
I peek into the dining room, where there’s a surprisingly restrained game of beer pong happening, Eric Rogers and Kelly Hsu against Lizzy King and Bodhi the Twerp, with a handful of fans cheering on the sidelines. No Carter. Bodhi sees me, and it’s clear he’s terrified. I like that.
When I get to the bathroom, the door is closed, and I hear someone in there. Damn. I stand there trying not to think about my bladder. I notice the light’s on in the office down the hall, which Shana and I specifically marked with “STAY OUT” Post-its—her parents would lose it if anything in there got messed up. I walk down to look inside, hearing annoying giggles.
I’m ready to shoo the laughers out of there like an irate chef broom-prodding mice out of the kitchen, but instead I find myself frozen, watching as Carter sloppily exchanges spit with Tatiana Robinson.
Oh god.
Down the hall, someone exits the bathroom, and it snaps me out of my stupor. I scurry away before Carter or Tatiana sees me (nowI’mthe mouse), trying desperately to erase the part of my brain that holds on to images as I slip into the bathroom and lock the door behind me.
He was kissing someone who wasn’t me.
I hated that.
I have to pee so bad.
Once I sit and finally let my bladder flow free, I’m able to think more clearly. Well, slightly more clearly.
Here’s what I think:
FUCK YOU, CARTER.
But then, a new thought:
Carter can kiss whoever he wants.
Because Carter doesn’t know who I am.
And he certainly doesn’t know we were in love.
Wewerein love, right?
I keep waiting for all this to feel less fucked-up.
Maybe I wassupposedto see Carter kissing Tatiana, though.
Maybe it’s a little nudge from the universe, encouraging me to move on.
I mean, wasn’t I just thirty minutes ago thinking I wanted to kiss Chord?
And wasn’t there a tiny part of me that felt bad about that?
So, yeah, this is agood thing. I don’t have to feel bad at all. I can go find Chord and exchange some spit of my own, can’t I?
I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and look into the mirror.
I look pretty. And powerful.
“Maggie Spear. Version two point oh. GO.”
I open the door. Chord is standing right there, like I’ve summoned him.
“I realized I had to go too,” he says almost sheepishly.
“Oh cool!” I say, which is a very weird response. But it’s only because I’m thinkingKiss him. Kiss him now.“Actually...” I lean toward him, and I have to angle my head up a bit, which is newin a good way, but then I see this surprised look in his eyes. “Oh shoot. I should ask if—I mean, can I kiss you? Is that okay?”
