“No.” She shakes her head. “I did this because I’m tired of hiding how much Iwantyou. I'm so tired of hiding who I am, hiding what I want.” She lets out a tired laugh. “Apparently, it was clear to everyone but me. Or maybe it was clear to me too deep down.”
She tells me everything. How she's spent this whole week focusing on herself and her sexuality, with Kai to guide her. How she couldn't bear to come into school because she's spent the whole week crying. I listen intently, unable to form words.
She’s telling me, she’s finally telling me that she wants me, but I can’t help the fear that drowns my body.
“What about your mother?” I ask quietly, once she's done and she gulps. Then I place the headphones down so I don’t drop them.
She sighs heavily. “I can barely handle this myself…my mother isn't ready for it. I'm not ready to tell anyone else anyway—like you said, I just have to be honest with myself.”
“I'm proud of you,” I say quietly and she quirks an eyebrow, but before she can respond I continue. “So proud of you.”
“You’re not angry? I’ve just come out even though I treated you like shit for liking girls.”
“How could I be angry at you for accepting yourself?”
“That’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head. “You should hate me!”
“I do hate you,” I whisper, unable to hide my amusement.
“Then hit me! Scream at me! Don’t just stand here!” she shrieks, her face turning red.
“The only person that’s gonna help you isyou,” I say. “So, you can get over your own guilt.”
“Of course, I want to let it go, I want to be worthy of you.” The agony in her voice sends me into a spiral.
I walk closer to her. “You’re not worthy of me, Juliette.” Her eyes become downcast, but I continue. “I’m not worthy of you either because that’s not how life works. Forgiveness isn’t equivalent to being worthy.”
“I can’t rush you, can I?” she asks, her tone understanding.
I shake my head. “No. But I’m getting there, I don’t need to shout or hit you. I just need to feel it leave.”
“But you still want me?” Her voice sounds disbelieving and hopeful at the same time.
“I do. I want you so much that it aches sometimes, but”—I can’t be like my father—“you should be happy…you finally know who you are! Don’t you want to experiment with other girls?”
She looks appalled at my suggestion and my own heart almost breaks at the thought. “No. Never. I only want you. I’ve only ever wanted you.” She sighs heavily and moves my hands from her face, holding them instead. “I know I don’t have the greatest track record, but I want to change that. I used to crave your attention—I still do—but I took it. Now I'maskingfor it.”
She rubs circles on my hands and continues speaking. “We can be more than whatever we call this …” Her free hand gesture between us. “We can fuck, we can talk. I'll be your enemy or your friend. I can be yourverybest friend if you want me to.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Juliette Kingston?” it’s a lame response, but it’s all I can conjure up right now.
She smiles. “Just one date. Tomorrow?”
I answer by pulling her into a heated kiss. I can’t hear anything as my lips envelop hers and then I realize something—it wasn’t the headphones I was missing this week, it was her.
Chapter THIRTY-SIX
J u l i e t t e
Isit possible to feel completely light? To have five years of repression melt into an almost empty void—something that’s still there but is fading slowly? That’s how I feel. It’s how I’ve felt this whole last week, moping in my bed and crying every night about my sexuality.
Kai was there, keeping me up to date with Adaline, because I never doubted that I would want her after sorting myself out. That was only cemented further when I went to her house yesterday. I wanted to stay after spilling my heart out to her, but I knew she would need space after my words. I just hope she comes today.
My doorbell rings and I ready myself to answer it, my heart falling out of my chest. It’s her. It has to be, right? I open the door…it isn’t her. Instead, it’s Adonis.
My first train of thought is to be angry, but I did invite him over too. I didn’t expect him to come this early though.
“Hey, I got your text,” he says, walking into my house. “Is everything okay? I’ve barely heard from you all week.”
