I purse my lips, but then think better. He has to realise I'm not giving in to him. At all. "You should be glad I'm even giving you a chance." I say curtly.
"I am glad." He looks up at me.
"You know, I actually trusted Rita. I suspected that the person wasn't actually called Rita, and I also suspected it was a guy. To be honest, I thought it was a prank, but then they started proving to me that it wasn't a prank."
He doesn't say anything, but I see him clenching and unclenching his fists. He suddenly sighs and runs a hand through his hair. I've seen him do that so often.
"It was very difficult for me to accept that it wasn't a prank." I say, tilting my head back a little, trying to find the right words to express my feelings. "I think you can understand that better than anyone."
"I do." He answers quietly.
"And I felt hopeful for the first time in years. I actually felt like there was someone I could talk to, and there was someone who talk to me without setting a hand on me physically, or retching if I even opened my mouth."
He'd opened his mouth to say something, but when I say the retching he closes it. Even if he claims to never have hit or kicked me, he knows he's done all kinds of other horrible things.
"And you wouldn't understand how nice it felt." I say, a tear squeezing its way past my cheek. I keep my eyes straight on the window, rather than looking at him. I prop my elbows on my knees, leaning forward. He puts a hand gently on the small of my back. I don't move to shake it off.
To be honest, I don't have the energy.
"But then I found out it's you, and then it's like everything change again. I don't trust you, and I think you can perfectly understand why." I sniff as another tear runs down my cheek. "It's like I've lost my last chance."
I sigh.
"Rita was like... A window for me, right. And now. Now it's you. I don't trust you or anything that you do, and it just feels like that window's closed now and there's officially no escape. I don't see how you can be a solution to anything."
"But what I want to do is to give you a chance." He says a moment later. "We can find a way to stop everything."
"Yeah, right." I say. "You're more concerned about your reputation than anything else."
"How do you know that?"
"I'd say I know you pretty well."
"You know one side of me pretty well." He counters.
"How do I know how many more sides there are?" I ask, raising my voice. "How do I know a single thing you're doing is in earnest, or a single thing that comes out of your trap is true?"
He sighs. "You don't have to." He answers. "But I promise you will believe me, sooner or later."
"To me, that just sounds like a threat." I say.
"I didn't mean it to be a threat." He says weakly.
"Maybe it's just because it's the only thing you've ever said to me." I spit. "Threats."
"We all make mistakes!" He exclaims.
"You can't justify a mistake you made during four years!" I exclaim back, starting to get seriously angry with him. How dare he? "It's my decision to be here right now, and it's not because of anything you've done, okay?"
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"I can take myself home." I answer, getting up and storming out of the room in a mixture of confusion and complete, blind, fury. I make it downstairs before I feel a hand on my shoulder and he pulls me into him again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, really."
I glare at him with undisguised hatred. "How long do you think that excuse is going to work for?" He swallows and opens his mouth to answer, but I give him such a scalding glare he shuts it again. I storm through to the entrance, thankful that his parents aren't here to witness this.
"Zoe, wait." He calls as I put my hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, block him on my phone, and delete all our texts. Never talk to him again. Give up on my very last chance. "I'm really sorry. I truly didn't mean that to sound like that."
My hand tightens on the doorknob, but something convinces me to let go and turn back. "I'm giving you thirty seconds." I say. He looks at the floor, looking a little nervous.
"Listen, I'm really sorry. I made a mistake, and a big one." He sighs. "I can prove to you that I don't care about my reputation." He stops again. "I want to try and help you out of the situation I've put you in. It's stupid. It's crazy. If this ruins me socially, I don't care. I just want to do something for you."
Then he comes closer, slipping his arms around my waist. Somehow, I don't find the strength in me to protest. He pulls me closer to him and then dips down, pressing his lips against mine.
I start in surprise, in wonder, in complete confusion at the fact I'm kissing Seth Davis, but then the feeling takes over me and I find myself pressing myself closer, tugging my hands through his soft hair.
For a moment, all I can think about is him, the way his lips feel against mine, the way his body fits against mine, the way his hands are loosely holding my waist, and the way he's being soft, soft, softer than I ever imagined he could be.
When he finally pulls away and takes a step back, his face is all flushed, but he looks happy. I can imagine I look similar. Looking at him, it suddenly hits me that I just let him kiss me, and kissed back, and was totally kind of fine with it, and I almost scream.
Blindly, I grab for the doorknob, wrench the door open, and without another word, without even checking if there's anyone nearby who might see me coming out of his house, I take off running down the street, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into for the fourtieth time this day.
¬
I've blocked Rita, or Seth, on my phone, but I can't quite bring myself to delete our texts. He hasn't written since our kiss, two days ago, and I wonder if he regrets it as much as I do.
From the look on his face when he pulled away, I'd say he didn't regret it much. I wonder how I looked when we pulled away. Surprised? Terrified? Ecstatic?
I can't rid myself of the scar all his words have left on me, but I can't rid myself of the feeling of hope he left imprinted on my lips last time. Is there really something he could do? Does he actually care more about me than his reputation?
My computer starts vibrating, with some sort of notification, and glancing at it, I see Jean is calling on Skype. At last, someone I can talk to about everything. It's been awhile since we talked properly.
Sliding into my chair, I answer the call, and adjust the camera with a small smile. "Salut!" I say, grinning as his picture comes up, blurry but still him.
"Hi." He answers. "We hadn't talked in awhile. How's everything?"
"I actually have a lot to tell you." I grin. "But how are you?"
"I'm good." He grins. "You?"
"Confused." I answer. "But also good. It's hotter here now. Way nicer."
"It's like 30 degrees here!" He answers. "Uh, about 86 degrees." I roll my eyes at him, as he knows I'm better with the European and English measurements anyway, and he chuckles. "Anyway, you said you have stuff to tell me. So spill, girl."
I giggle. "Remember, uh, Rita?"
"You found out who it is?" He asks me. I nod, and his eyes widen. "Wait, don't even tell me. It's that nerd." He says, referring to the nerd in the year above us, who has now gone off to Harvard or something.
I shake my head, a smirk playing on my lips.
"A girl?" He asks. I shake my head again. "Some nerdy boy?" I shake my head again. "Someone in the year under us?" I shake my head yet again, and he sighs in exasperation. "I don't know, Luke?" He asks, obviously trying to make a joke.
I smirk. "You're closer than you think."
"Caleb?"
"No."
"Seth?"
I grin a little more, and his jaw straight up drops. "But-"
"Don't even start on how weird it is. I'm not over it yet, to be honest."
"I meant it as a joke!" He exclaims. "Is it seriously him?" He asks, suddenly looking seriously. I nod again, and his face changes to a completely incredulous way. "How did you find out?"
"Running." I answer. "In the forest. I bumped into him while I was texting Rita, and it was on his screen."
"What happened then?" His eyes narrow. "What's that cut on your forehead?" I touch it self-consciously. Now, here is someone who really cares.
"It's a rather long story." I start. "But the cut can be resumed to Luke."
He sighs, then nods. "So what happened in the woods?"
"He got all panicky, and we talked, and then I left." I sigh. "But then, the other day, I went out to get a drink, and I bumped into Luke, Nate and Seth. Luke kind of went all out on me, and they all left, but five minutes later Seth was back, and he was actually helping me."
"Are you serious?" Jean asks. "That doesn't sound like the Seth I know."
"It's not the Seth I know." I answer. "But he helped me, and he drove me home." I exclude the rest, because I find it too embarrassing to talk about with another boy. Especially a boy I've kissed. "So now I'm awfully confused."
"I can see why." He says. "So you're sure it's not a prank?"
"It's not a prank."
"How are you so sure?"
"I'm not. But I have a feeling..."
"In which case..." He gets up. "I'll be right back." A moment later something drops in the background of the now empty picture, and there's a shout and some swearing in French.
A lot of swearing in French, in fact. Stuff along the lines of nique sa mère and connard. Not the best language, to be honest. He reappears a moment later, wearing a large fake moustache and a hat.
I shriek and double over laughing. "Mr Holmes here to help you." He says in the fakest and worst British accent I've ever heard. It only makes me laugh even harder. It's truly terrible. "What's your problem?"
"That's rude!" I exclaim through my laughter.
"What may I help you with, my lady?" He repeats, trying to pull a posh, fake, British accent, and failing drastically. I'm almost out of breath now. I slip off my chair, and pull my knees to my chest, laughing so hard, that, at the end, I don't even remember what I'm laughing about.
After about five minutes, I sober up and sit back on the chair. He's taken off the hat and moustache, but he's still wearing a huge grin.
To say this in the least bookish and fanfic-ish way, he's seriously like a brother to me. I know this line is literally in every book and every story ever, but it's true. It's a kind of feeling which you literally cannot describe another way.
"It seems we are in need of an investigation." He says with the same accent. I raise a hand in warning, and he chuckles, holding the moustache up in front of his face again. "So, what do you think about this?"
"To be honest, I have no idea what to think anymore. I never would have expected this, and less from him. It's absolutely insane that this is happening to me."
"I don't understand anything either." He says.
"So what's happening now?"
"I have no clue." I answer, even though that's not true. "I'm hoping he'll just forget about it."
"Why? Can't he help you?"
"He says he can help me, that he can pull me out of this perpetual hole I'm currently in, but I don't believe him." I cough. "He only cares-" I pause. "About his reputation." I sigh. "I don't think he'll ever be able to put me in front of his friends, no matter what he says."
A/N - I know this may seem rushed to you, but trust me, there is so much coming. So much. SO MUCH. *cackles*
Thank you for reading, and also, thanks for 15k reads! This is unreal. Please leave me a vote and a comment :D