Page 30 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Hey, it’s Seb. Lacey gave me your number. I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime? Maybe go see a movie?

Kane’s not going to be my first kiss.

He’s not going to be my first anything.

It’s time I accept that.

Hadley

A movie sounds great.

HADLEY

A week has gone by since I stopped feeding into my illusions and denying what’s right in front of me—although if I’m being honest, it felt more like a month.

Turns out getting over your crush is hard. Especially crushes you’ve had since before you even knew how to spell the word crush.

In any other situation, moving on would be simple. All I’d have to do is distance myself from him and hope that whoever came up with “out of sight, out of mind” was onto something.

But nothing about this situation is simple.

How do you distance yourself from the guy who lives in your house?

It’s 8:30 by the time I get dressed and walk out of my room. School is out today, and I’ve been meaning to tell Kane I have a date tonight, so I won’t be able to make our meeting.

I make a beeline for the bathroom but realize that someone’s already in there when I find the door locked and hear the sink running.

I’m about to knock when the door opens.

I spin to see Kane standing in the doorway. “Sorry. All yours.”

“No worries,” I say.

He flashes a small smile and walks out.

I enter the bathroom but don’t close the door, seizing the opportunity to tell him, “By the way, I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

He stops dead and turns to look at me. “Why not?”

I’m a bit thrown off by his response. I thought I’d get an uninterested “okay” at most, and call me crazy, but I hear disappointment in his voice.

“I, um… I have a date.”

I start to close the door. At least, I try to, but the next thing I know, Kane’s palm is smacked against it, blocking it.

“You have a what?” A raw edge of irritation bleeds through his words.

“A date?” I repeat, but it sounds like I’m asking him.

“With who?”

I give a shrug as if to seem unbothered. “Some guy from school.”

His glare merely intensifies when I say that, and I word-vomit to fill the awkward silence. “He asked me out last week. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll finally get my first kiss out of the way.”

He doesn’t answer, the muscles in his jaw twitching.

I assume our conversation has run its course and begin to close the door. Only, Kane stops me again, driving his palm against the door and holding it open.