Page 82 of I Dare You
He’s asked where I’m from and how old I am; all the normal questions someone asks to get to know someone.
If I freaked out and refused to answer, I assumed that would make things more suspicious.So I told him my age and where I am originally from.I just omitted that I moved to Hollow Banks after my parents’ deaths.
“I’m so sorry about your parents,” he says, shaking his head sadly.
“Thank you, but it’s okay.It feels like a lifetime ago.I don’t even remember them anymore.”
“That’s how the mind works.It finds ways to protect you.”
“Is that what happened with your dad?”
He nods, taking a drink.
“I don’t mean to pry.”I can sense his discomfort and instantly feel guilty for asking.
“You’re not.It’s nice to talk about him.”
“It is?”
“Yes, I suppose I haven’t found the right person to talk to, until now.”
I can’t contain my happiness.
“I feel the same way,” I softly confess.
He shifts on the couch so we’re facing one another.“Can I ask you something then?”
A panic soon surpasses my happiness, but I nod.
“I’m not judging, just trying to understand.You’ve never been drunk, aren’t afraid of much, and work at an orphanage.You’re different from other girls your age—which is good,” he adds.“Losing your parents at such a young age changed you.”
I wait for him to continue.
“And you’ve never been kissed before.It feels as though you’ve closed yourself off to experiences most are desperate to try.Why?”
I shrug, measuring my breaths.
“You’re fearless, but you’re also afraid.I think there’s a reason for it.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.“And what do you think that reason is?”
Kit runs his finger along the rim of his glass, as if deep in thought.“I think you’ve been hurt.And you’re running…running from yourself.Running from making connections with anyone, afraid of what they might see.”
How right he is.
Now is the time to confess it all.I don’t know if it’s the alcohol talking, or perhaps that we’re being so open and raw with one another.Whatever the reason, I shift closer and am about to confess everything, but Kit’s phone rings.His ringtone is theStar Warstheme.
“Fuck, sorry,” he says, reaching for it off the coffee table.“It’s my brother.”
My tongue is soon cemented to my mouth.Any confession is long gone.
“Hey, Dandy.Everything okay?”
Although I can’t make out what he’s saying, I can hear Dandy’s voice through the phone.Nostalgia hits me, and I quickly excuse myself under the ruse of needing to use the bathroom.
Once inside, I rest my back against the door and take three calming breaths.
I can’t do this.
