Flynn - a kissing booth fan fiction

Thuds (Book)

"Uh huh," I nod. "But you said you cleared it up?"

"Of course. Probably goes a long way to explaining why it was so awkward yesterday, though."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, Chloe. I really don't. I'm not sure there's much I can do until Elle decides she wants to talk to me."

We watch movies and hang out at home for the rest of the night, and while it's fun to chill out with Chloe and my family, my mind never strays far from Elle. I go to bed pretty late, but sleep won't come. I lay there, tossing and turning, unable to get settled, even though my bed here at home is a hundred times more comfortable than the one back in my dorm. Lying on my back now, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts run in circles.

Call Elle, you need to talk to her. It's too late, you can't call her and she doesn't want to talk to you anyway. Text her again. She hasn't answered any of the other texts, why would she answer one now, in the middle of the night? She told Chloe she would call when she's ready to talk. When will that be, though? What if she never calls? What if you go back to Boston and she never fucking calls?

Screw this.

Throwing back the covers, I lurch out of bed and snag the hoodie I'd had on earlier, pulling it over the t-shirt I wore to bed. Deciding the PJ pants can stay, I shove my feet into my joggers and grab my phone and wallet, padding as quietly as I can manage down the hallway to the front door. I take the keys off the hook there and gently click the door closed behind me. My stomach churns on the short drive over to Elle's house, and once I park the car, I pause, sitting there, staring out the windshield, wondering how the hell I'm going to do this.

As luck would have it, I left a bag of skittles in here earlier, but there's a moment after I pitch the third one up at Elle's bedroom window when I start to wonder if my crazy plan is doomed. I lob a fourth one up, rewarded with another tap on the glass. Then a fifth. All of a sudden, the curtains are thrown open and her shadowy face appears. I wave, and my heart leaps as she opens the window, frowning down at me.

"What are you doing? It's two in the morning!"

"Yeah, I know."

Elle gawps at me for a moment before asking the obvious question. "What do you want?"

"I have to talk to you. My flight leaves at twelve and I couldn't not talk to you before I left. I figured this was the only way to get you to talk to me."

She stares at me for a second before closing the window. My eyes flick towards the front door, my heart hammering harder the longer the minutes stretch. Maybe she isn't coming. Maybe she really doesn't want to talk to me. My heart starts to squeeze and I feel a little sick. Then the door opens, and Elle, clad in her flannel PJ's and a hoodie just like I am, steps out onto the porch. 

"You've got two minutes, Noah Flynn."

I release the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"I almost didn't think you were coming."

When I stride towards her, up onto the porch, Elle takes a small step back, looking up at me.

"Time's ticking."

Now that I'm here, I don't know what to say, where to start. Time stretches again, and I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind about her sudden departure the other day, the excuse she'd given her dad.

"Cramps, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"On Thanksgiving. We both know that was a load of bull."