Under The Mistletoe

8| Secrecy

Chapter 8: Secrecy (Blake's POV)

Her dad has always wanted me to ask her out. Always. Since we were kids. On her birthday while she was in New York, he even offered to fly me out with him to surprise her. He always thought we were dating in secret. He always said we acted like there was some secrecy about a supposed relationship we were in.

First off, if we were in a relationship, there wouldn't be any secrecy, especially with her dad. Second of all, we weren't even in a relationship. 

"Just deny it," she shrugged. I looked at her weirdly. Neither of us has ever... denied it. "Come on," she rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me downstairs with her. She let my hand go and went to get water. "Hey, dad," she smiled. 

"Hey honey," he kissed the side of her head, "Oh, hello Blake." 

"Hey, Mr. Kingston." 

"What brought you here?" he asked me. 

"We were hanging out," I shrugged. 

"You two?" 

"No, there were a few more people. Blake was just-" 

"Leaving. I was just leaving," I cut her off. 

She glanced at me while closing the fridge. "Yeah," she said, "He was just leaving." 

"Uh, goodnight," I nodded, grabbing my house keys off the counter. 

"Bye," he smiled. 

"Bye," I mumbled, heading to the front door. On my walk home, I was thinking about her. About the little argument, we just had. 

Maybe I should have reached out to her. Maybe I shouldn't have let my ego get to me. I'm shutting out the idea of being friends with her again, it's just gonna take time getting used to and making it happen. There's gonna be a lot of apologizing. On both our parts. 

I entered my house quietly, knowing my mom was asleep by now but Kimberley may have been up. "Were you with Hope?" 

I jumped, my hand going straight to my pounding heart. I stepped into the dark living room where the lights turned on as Kimberley sat on the couch. "Have you just been sitting in the dark?" I asked her incredulously. 

"Yes, were you with Hope?" She seemed really amused by this. 

"Yes, we were all at her place," I shrugged, walking over to the couch and plopping down beside her, shrugging my jacket off. 

"Why don't you just admit that you like her?" she asked. 

I turned to her, rolling my eyes. "I don't like her." 

"Okay... why don't you just admit that you've missed her?" 

I paused. "I never denied that." 

"Yeah, but you haven't told her that either. Blake, think about it. She's coming back home after two years, as if it isn't already hard enough because she lost her mom, she's come back and realized her best friend now hates her. Do you realize how unwanted that can make her feel?" 

I turned to her, actually listening to what she was saying because it's highly likely that she's right. 

"She's had a rough time. Rougher than what you experienced when she left. You lost your best friend. She lost her mom, she left her dad and kind of lost him too, and she lost her best friend when she left too. What did she have in New York? Nothing. Just think about it. Just tell her you've missed her. Remind her that she isn't unwanted here," she shrugged. "Remind her that she still means a lot to you."