He might have been spiraling from our hug this afternoon, but I was pretty sure it had nothing on the spiral he’d sent me on by rejecting me. I didn’t do this. I didn’t spiral. Matt had been the one that did that when we were younger, and I was the one that pulled him out of them. That was why I’d gone over in the first place, to pull him out of the spiral of doubt or whatever he was feeling after the hug.
And instead, it set me down on my own spiral.
My thoughts were racing as I drove back across King’s Bay to the townhouse I rented. Once I got inside, I tried sitting down, but I was restless. I ended up pacing the entire first floor, tryingto think my way through whatever had gone wrong between us. I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t find the signs I’d misread. Everything in that kiss had pointed toward progression. Everything pointed toward us going upstairs and having a great night, one steeped in both nostalgia and newness.
Fuck.
I groaned and fished my phone out of my back pocket. My finger hovered over his contact, but if he’d rejected me, he probably didn’t want to hear from me. I navigated to Moira’s contact instead and hit dial. Moira was my best friend, and she’d seen me at every high and low over the past near decade. We’d met at Brown, and she’d been the one to pick me up and put me back together when I was mourning my relationship with Matt.
If anyone would understand how I used to feel about Matt, it would be her. If there was anyone who would understand how complicated it was now that he was back in my life, it was her.
“You better be dying,” she grumbled as she answered the phone. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
I didn’t realize what time it was. It had to be late though, and I hadn’t thought about that fact at all when I called her. It had been after eleven when I’d gone to Matt’s apartment, and I didn’t know how long we’d spent talking (and making out) in my car. I didn’t know how long I’d been trying to outpace my thoughts. I hadn’t even paused to check the time. Luckily, it was Moira. She couldn’t gettoomad about a late-night phone call, right?
“I’m not dying,” I assured her. “At least, I don’t think I’m dying. I might be dying.”
I could hear her shifting, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine exactly what was happening on her end of the phone. She was forcing herself into a sitting position and readjusting the mountain of pillows she kept on her bed to be more comfortable. “Okay, are you being a drama queen or areyou calling me instead of an ambulance while you’re bleeding out on your kitchen floor?”
I sighed. “Drama queen,” I begrudgingly confessed. “I’m not bleeding out on any floors.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I spent most of the day with Matt, and then we hugged, and there was this moment. So later, I went back to his place, and we talked, and then I kissed him. Or maybe he kissed me. I’m not sure who actually moved first, but we kissed.”
“I know you likeRocky Horror, but maybe let’s not do the Time Warp again,” Moira scolded. “Do you remember how big of a mess you were when we met?”
I sighed. This was not what we needed to focus on. “I remember, but that’s not the point, and you know it.”
“Then tell me what the point is. It’s almost one in the morning, and I have work in the morning.”
Moira had never been a night owl. I almost felt guilty for waking her up, except I had too many other things on my mind to let the guilt simmer. Mainly, I had Matt on my mind, and he was taking up too much space.
“So, we kissed, and it was getting hot and heavy. We were in my car, parked by his apartment, and I suggested we go upstairs.”
“Normal night for you. Not usually a cause for a freak out.”
I groaned. “Are you going to let me finish, or are you just going to interrupt every other sentence?”
“Sorry.” She did not sound at all sorry.
I took a deep breath and started again. “He said that he was going to go upstairs, but I should go home. He rejected me. We were making out, and it seemed like we were going to go further, but he rejected me. Do you know the last time I was rejected? Never. This never happens to me.”
“Did you ask him why?”
“No. He said he’d text me tomorrow, and he practically sprinted out of my car. I didn’t get a chance to say anything.”
Moira was quiet for a few moments. I didn’t know if she was waiting for me to say something else or if she was just weighing my words over, trying to figure out the best way to handle my sensitive issue. Either that or she’d fallen asleep on me. She might have lived in the city that never slept, but she needed a full eight hours every night. She claimed it was for beauty sleep, but I’d known her long enough to know that she just really liked her sleep.
“Do you like him again?”
There went the theory that she’d fallen asleep.
It was my turn to be quiet. I had to think through the complicated web of feelings that had always surrounded my history with Matthew Bennett. It wasn’t just Matt where my feelings were too complicated either, and Moira knew it better than most. I couldn’t figure it out. I always struggled at this part. I liked spending time with him. I liked making out with him. I’d had fun with him that afternoon. I was definitelyattractedto him.
But I didn’t know if I liked him the way Moira was asking.
“I like him,” I told her, playing dumb at the true meaning of her words. “I really liked kissing him, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But things with Matt—They’re complicated.”
