“And we haven’t eaten since, what, that late brunch three hours ago?” I throw a chip — sorry, “crisp” — at him. The pub has tables outside, so we’re sitting in the sun by the riverbank. It may not be warm enough to actually take my jacket off, but leaving my gloves behind? Major improvement.
Will doesn’t say a thing until his plate is nearly clear. “Did you get enough material for your essay?” he asks, sweeping up the last of his crumbs.
I sip my lemonade. “It wasn’t required for class. I just wanted to take a look around.”
He looks at me admiringly. “You really are dedicated to your work.”
I blush. It’s getting harder to resist Will’s general cuteness, even though the end of the semester is in sight. I can tell myself “no dating” all I want, but then I’ll catch him looking at me with those dark brown eyes and something in me just melts. It’s not just the way he looks; it’s how he sees me. Like I’m worth something. I hope our friendship can last.
“Are you looking forward to going back to California?” Will says, as if reading my mind. “You must miss your family and friends.”
I wait to answer, clearing our things aside and hopping up to sit on the tabletop so I’m looking out at the river. Will moves to sit next to me.
“Yes, and no,” I say slowly. “I’m fine without my parents. We’re kind of not talking right now,” I admit. “And I miss my friends, but all the same . . . I feel like I’ve changed. I don’t know how that will work out when I’m home.”
“Changed? How?”
His face is so open and sincere that right now I’m almost tempted to come clean. I could just tell him everything, hot tub and all. I mean, he’s my friend, he cares about me, so maybe he’ll understand and —
He takes my hand.
I freeze, just feeling his skin against mine. I can’t even look at him for a minute. I’m too busy freaking out. What is wrong with me? I’ve done this before. Hell, the whole Internet knows I’ve done way more than this before, but here, now, with Will? This matters.
“Err, Natasha.” He clears his throat, and I finally pull myself together enough to look at him. Oh boy, he’s got his puppy-dog look on, the one that reduces stern old women — and me — to marshmallow. “You know your friendship means a lot to me, and I wouldn’t want to do anything to affect that. . . .”
I can tell he’s rehearsed this, he looks so nervous.
“But you have to know . . .” He pauses, blushing. “I . . . Well, that is to say, we . . .” His words fade out, and then the next thing I know, he lunges forward and kisses me.
Maybe if I was a saint, I would have pulled away right then, but I can’t help myself. I’ve wanted this for so long. I kiss him back. It’s soft, and sweet, and nothing like the sweaty make-out sessions I’ve had back home. He touches my cheek, gently, and I want nothing more than to just fall into it and forget everything . . .
But I can’t.
“Will.” I pull away, already hating myself. “I don’t —”
His eyes widen and he jerks back. “Oh. Sorry, I —”
“You’re a really great guy!” I say quickly as he scrambles down from the tabletop and stands there, awkward. “But . . .”
What can I say to him? I’ve been secretly hoping for this all along, but now it’s finally happening, I just can’t follow through. How could I even explain: “But . . . I can’t do this without telling you the truth”? “But . . . I don’t know what you’ll say if I come clean”? “But . . . I’m not brave enough to risk losing what we’ve got, or that person you think I am”?
No, it won’t work. I’m not ready to go back to being Tasha, not yet.
“. . . I kind of just got out of something. Back home,” I say, avoiding his eyes. I swallow, feeling like the biggest coward in the world. “I’m sorry, it’s just . . . I’m not ready.”
“Oh,” Will says again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”
“No!” I interrupt. “It’s not your fault. I mean, it was nice, and I wish . . .” I sigh. Boy, do I wish.
“It’s all right, Natasha.” Will sends me a quiet look. “Really. You don’t have to explain.”
“But we can still be friends?” I ask, desperate. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” Will seems to pull himself together, standing up straight and fixing a thin smile in place. “We’ll be fine.”
I look down, wishing I could just take us back in time.
“Come on, we better make a start back to Oxford.” Will hooks his thumbs in his jacket pockets and nods his head toward the front gate. I slowly loop my scarf back around my neck and follow him out of the garden. “And this time, no complaints about the hike, all right?”
He’s looking at me, trying to act normal, so I laugh along. “No complaining,” I agree, my chest feeling hollow inside. “I promise.”
From: totes_tasha
To: EMLewis
Subject: will
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oh em, i couldn’t do it. there he was, totally amazing & sweet & cute and i just couldn’t tell him the truth. there’s a chance he would understand, but how can i know for sure? guys get weird over this stuff, they just do. i couldn’t bear it if he started looking at me different. he says we’re fine, but i haven’t seen him since the trip and it’s been four days now . . .
i guess it’s a good thing, right? i mean, we’re going home in 3 weeks, and getting involved with him now would just make it harder to go home. and now i can focus everything on my classes and the presentation to the board and oh em, it’s such a mess!
xoxox
From: EMLewis
To: totes_tasha
Subject: re: will
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Maybe you need to give him the benefit of the doubt. He sounds like a decent boy, and if you don’t trust him, then you’ll never find out. Or not. Whichever you think! I’m in no position to give relationship advice — I may be over Sebastian for good now, but that just means I’ve got all this romantic energy to channel in the wrong direction!