"And I also like the things you have to search for-the bands nobody knows and the movies with subtitles that are on late at night. I get pissed though, because I don't speak French or Spanish, and I wish I did. I like school, and I wish I was better at it. I think maybe if I tried all along, I would be. I'm mad at myself for giving up in the beginning. I'm also embarrassed that I don't know how to braid my own hair. That's why I don't put ribbons in it like the other girls on our team. I tried once, and I made a knot. Bows are stupid. But they're also pretty. And-"
Before I get out another word, Wes's lips are on mine, his mouth fitting against mine so perfectly, it's as if he's the exhale to my inhale, the end of my every breath. I freeze under the power of his kiss, my hands sliding to the back of his shirt, my fingers gripping to hold on as his come up to hold my cheeks and chin, his thumbs tracing a slow circle under each eye.
"You don't belong in a box. That's what makes you so amazing. You … you're a little bit of everything. And you're not ashamed to show any of it," he says.
"I don't know about that," I sigh. "I think I keep that shit in check," I laugh, but I quit trying to make a joke out of my insecurities when I meet his eyes again.
"I know about it, and I see it," he says, his thumb under my chin.
I breathe in deeply and let my head fall to the side.
"I always loved the way you looked at me," I say.
Wes's smile comes fast, and his strong arms swallow me whole. I embrace him so tightly I'm sure I'm ruining the hair work of art Taryn tacked to my head. I don't care, because when I'm with him, like this, no matter how I look, I feel pretty.
"I saw you cry once … " he breathes, his voice a low hum at my ear, his fingertips running circles over the bare skin along the top of my spine. His touch is hypnotic.
"When?" I whisper.
"When you were young. At school, the day of the first race I went to your house. I saw you cry. You didn't get picked for the solo in music class. Taryn did. You pretended you didn't care, and then you asked for a hall pass and hid around the corner from the bathroom to cry," he says.
He's right. I did. That memory has been buried under years of love for my friend. I never held it against her. And I don't now-not even in my memories. "I wanted Taryn to be happy. I felt selfish for being sad, so I hid," I say. Wes tugs my chin up with his fingertips, and I look at him, my cheek still resting on his chest.
"I know you did. That's what made it so amazing. You were this unbelievable friend. And I wanted a friend like you in the worst way," he says.
His eyes sink into mine, and I picture them on that sad boy I once knew.
"You remember all of that? I thought … you didn't remember me until you saw me?" I ask, still staring at his long lashes. His lip ticks up and his head tilts to the side.
"I had the memory, but the face was fuzzy. When I saw you again, you filled in so many blanks," he says.
I wonder how many blank spaces I filled, just how many memories of his I was starring in. I had millions of questions all battling to be the next one from my lips now that my big question-who he really was-had been answered. But they would have to wait. They'd wait because my other half, Kyle, was standing alone in the dark corner wearing a suit. And he looked sad.
"This is a really weird thing to ask my date, but can I dance with someone else? Just … just for a song?" I ask, my lips forming a tight line and my heart pounding in my stomach. I don't want him to get the wrong impression about Kyle, but I also can't let Kyle stand there, alone.
Wes follows the motion of my eyes to Kyle, then breathes in slowly, turning back into me, his hands sliding along my cheeks and his lips following to my mouth. "Like I said, you were always an unbelievable friend," he whispers against me before taking my bottom lip between both of his, holding it there for a few seconds then letting go.
Wes steps away and nods toward the table near the dance floor where Levi is sitting with his date. When he joins them, I turn to the right and walk slowly to my sweet friend. His suit is pressed, and I'm sure he's rented it-I've never seen one like this in his closet. The white shirt underneath is beaming, and I have a feeling that's new as well. He's painfully handsome, and in some other life, I would have been a fool not to fall for him. But this life had other plans for me, and somehow, Kyle has still decided to stay by my side-as my friend.
"Well don't you clean up nice, Kyle Marley," I say, stepping into the shadow with him. He chuckles and looks down, his thumbs hanging onto his pockets and his posture that of a boy ready to bolt.
"Thanks, Joss. You clean up pretty well yourself," he says, his head tilted just enough that his eyes meet mine. His smile only makes it across half his face, and his breath stops when he looks at me. His lips close tightly as he shakes his head, glancing down to his feet. "Nah, that's a lie. You don't clean up well. You're always beautiful. But tonight, you are breathtaking."
My chest collapses a little, and my eyes sting with his compliment.
"Thanks," I say, swinging my hand into his. Our pinkies link with my touch, and I let his hold on my hand linger for a few seconds before we both let go. "Where's your date?"
His eyes flash up to mine, and even though it's dark, I can tell he's blushing. He stretches his arms out before letting them fall to his sides. "I don't have one. I'm … I'm not staying long. I just wanted to see you. Taryn said Wes finally talked you into going, and I … I had to see Josselyn Winters in a dress," he smiles.
I squint at him, and he chuckles, shrugging with guilt.
"You shit! I rock this dress," I say, holding the skirt out a little on each side. His laughter fades when I do, and he brings one hand up to rub his chin.
"Yeah … you do," he says, his voice low as his eyes slide up to mine.
I suck in my bottom lip and look at his chest, not ready to take more praise from him so soon.
"Well since you're here … " I say, glancing up briefly.
"I'd love to have this dance," he says, pulling his hand from his pocket again and holding it out for me. I take it and let him lead me to the center of the dance floor, my eyes catching Wes's as Kyle pulls me in close, but not too close. Wes only smiles and continues talking with his brother. He understands, and I'm relieved he isn't jealous.
"I'm wearing my mom's boots," I say, stepping once to the side and twisting each foot on the heel so he can admire them. Kyle smiles.
"They fit you-in so many ways," he says.
I step into his embrace slowly, my own smile a timid one. "Thanks," I whisper. I both love and hate these boots. I hate that I love them. And I hate that I miss my mom tonight.
"She'd be sorry, Joss," Kyle says, his chin now resting on my head.
"Hmmm?" I question.
"Your mom; if she knew you now. She'd be sorry she missed so much of you. You're amazing, despite her. And she'd be sorry," he says. I squeeze him tightly, and his hands close around me and squeeze back.
I hold him like this for the rest of the song, and when it ends, he steps out of my arms and nods toward Wes. His eyes come back to me.
"I'm gonna go. There's a party at the river bottom. And I need to get this suit back in my dad's closet," he smirks. I laugh, also relieved that he didn't rent something special just for one dance.
"Thanks for the dance," I smile.
He shakes his head and shuts his eyes, opening them just as Wes reaches me and tugs my hand to his chest.
"It was my pleasure, Winters. Every single time," he says.
Wes shakes his hand, and without any words, Kyle leaves. Wes never asks what we talked about, and even though I know it wouldn't be any big deal to share, I keep it to myself. Kyle is still part of me, and I want to hold onto those small things that are just ours-even if they're transient and meaningless. And the fact that Wes lets me, makes my heart swell even more.
I never leave the dance floor. For an hour and a half, I let Wes sway me at the same tempo in a circle in a two-foot section of the gym floor. My purse remains slung around my body, and my friends only see me when they approach us. This stupid dance-it's the most amazing night of my life.
The clock says nine-thirty when Wes finally leads me out the door and to his truck. I don't ask where we're going, and I don't question the fact that we're abandoning Levi. I just follow him.
He pulls the passenger door open for me, then tucks my dress in safely before closing the door. The cab is dark when he climbs in, but the moonlight reflects off his eyes, and I lose myself in them as we pull away from campus. I let him drive me for several miles, until it dawns on me where he's taking me.