and I could be anyone, even daring, bold, and blunt.
After my out of character move, Miller asked me to hang out with him, and against Cece’s protest, I agreed. We snuck into see a movie then wandered around the streets, talking about nothing that had to do with my old life. For a moment, I felt alive again. Then he gave my first kiss, and I wondered if he could taste the guilt, anger, and confusion rotting inside me, because I sure as hell could.
“That was nice,” he said when he pulled away.
I nodded, but it wasn’t nice. It just . . . was . Like everything else. And I felt a twinge of sadness that I didn’t get my first kiss with Ben on the night of my birthday party. But as quick as the thought came, I smothered it, knowing it was pointless to dream of anything. When I got home, I dyed my hair with the box of purple dye I stole.
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” Miller interrupts my thoughts, nodding toward the hallway.
His friend snickers, and Miller smacks him upside the head, laughing, then turns to me. “Your leg feeling okay?”
I gently place my palm on my thigh. “Yeah, I’ve just been walking on it too much.”
“I still can’t believe a horse fucked up your knee that much,” he says, kicking clothes that litter the hallway out of the way. “That fall must have been killer wicked.”
“Yep, hurt like a bitch.” Not wanting to talk about my leg anymore, I crash my lips to his.
“What was that for?” he asks when I step back.
I nonchalantly shrug, being the cool version of myself. The one that doesn’t give a shit about anything. “Does it really matter?”
Does anything really matter anymore?
He considers what I said with his head slanted to the side. “You’re always so mysterious.” A slow grin spreads across his face. “I like it.”
Mysterious Annabella?
No more Open Book Annabella. No Sunshine-in-the-Rain or Chasing-Rainbows-and-Dreaming-of Glittery-Days Annabella. Is that who I’ve become now?
Dodging the dirty clothes, shoes, and empty bottles on the floor, I gingerly make my way to his bed while he rummages in his dresser for something. I flop down on the lumpy mattress, adjust my leg, but roll to my side when I feel something lumpy beneath me—Miller’s favorite pipe. I set it on the floor then lie back down on the bed.
“So, what do you want to do tonight?” he asks, closing the dresser drawer.
“Anything that doesn’t require being at home.” I spread out my arms and stare up at the water-stained ceiling.
He chuckles as he scoots onto the bed beside me. “You better be careful giving me full rein to do whatever the hell I want.” He leans in to kiss me, and I trap the air in my chest, mentally preparing myself for the numbness. “We could finally, you know, take this to the next level.”
As deep as I am into this lie, I still haven’t worked up enough courage to lose my virginity to him. “I told you I had a five month dating minimum before we did that.”
“But it’s been five months,” he gripes. “Come on. I’ve been super patient.”
“Fine,” I agree, even though it makes me feel sick to my stomach. He grins, his gaze zeroing in on my lips. He leans in, but I place my hand over his mouth, stopping him. “Not right now, though . . . Later tonight.”
He searches my eyes for a sign I’m lying, but I’ve become such a good liar that even I can’t tell if I am or not.
When I lower my hand, he seals his mouth to mine.
Our kisses aren’t magical, but I’m starting to believe kisses aren’t. They’re just lips and movements, promising lies that mean nothing.
After several minutes of him kissing and rubbing his hips against me, Miller pulls his hand out of my shirt, looking high from the kiss. Knowing Miller, he might just be high. “You seem tense today. What’s up?”
“I seem the same as I do every day.” I stare
After my out of character move, Miller asked me to hang out with him, and against Cece’s protest, I agreed. We snuck into see a movie then wandered around the streets, talking about nothing that had to do with my old life. For a moment, I felt alive again. Then he gave my first kiss, and I wondered if he could taste the guilt, anger, and confusion rotting inside me, because I sure as hell could.
“That was nice,” he said when he pulled away.
I nodded, but it wasn’t nice. It just . . . was . Like everything else. And I felt a twinge of sadness that I didn’t get my first kiss with Ben on the night of my birthday party. But as quick as the thought came, I smothered it, knowing it was pointless to dream of anything. When I got home, I dyed my hair with the box of purple dye I stole.
“Come on, let’s go to my room.” Miller interrupts my thoughts, nodding toward the hallway.
His friend snickers, and Miller smacks him upside the head, laughing, then turns to me. “Your leg feeling okay?”
I gently place my palm on my thigh. “Yeah, I’ve just been walking on it too much.”
“I still can’t believe a horse fucked up your knee that much,” he says, kicking clothes that litter the hallway out of the way. “That fall must have been killer wicked.”
“Yep, hurt like a bitch.” Not wanting to talk about my leg anymore, I crash my lips to his.
“What was that for?” he asks when I step back.
I nonchalantly shrug, being the cool version of myself. The one that doesn’t give a shit about anything. “Does it really matter?”
Does anything really matter anymore?
He considers what I said with his head slanted to the side. “You’re always so mysterious.” A slow grin spreads across his face. “I like it.”
Mysterious Annabella?
No more Open Book Annabella. No Sunshine-in-the-Rain or Chasing-Rainbows-and-Dreaming-of Glittery-Days Annabella. Is that who I’ve become now?
Dodging the dirty clothes, shoes, and empty bottles on the floor, I gingerly make my way to his bed while he rummages in his dresser for something. I flop down on the lumpy mattress, adjust my leg, but roll to my side when I feel something lumpy beneath me—Miller’s favorite pipe. I set it on the floor then lie back down on the bed.
“So, what do you want to do tonight?” he asks, closing the dresser drawer.
“Anything that doesn’t require being at home.” I spread out my arms and stare up at the water-stained ceiling.
He chuckles as he scoots onto the bed beside me. “You better be careful giving me full rein to do whatever the hell I want.” He leans in to kiss me, and I trap the air in my chest, mentally preparing myself for the numbness. “We could finally, you know, take this to the next level.”
As deep as I am into this lie, I still haven’t worked up enough courage to lose my virginity to him. “I told you I had a five month dating minimum before we did that.”
“But it’s been five months,” he gripes. “Come on. I’ve been super patient.”
“Fine,” I agree, even though it makes me feel sick to my stomach. He grins, his gaze zeroing in on my lips. He leans in, but I place my hand over his mouth, stopping him. “Not right now, though . . . Later tonight.”
He searches my eyes for a sign I’m lying, but I’ve become such a good liar that even I can’t tell if I am or not.
When I lower my hand, he seals his mouth to mine.
Our kisses aren’t magical, but I’m starting to believe kisses aren’t. They’re just lips and movements, promising lies that mean nothing.
After several minutes of him kissing and rubbing his hips against me, Miller pulls his hand out of my shirt, looking high from the kiss. Knowing Miller, he might just be high. “You seem tense today. What’s up?”
“I seem the same as I do every day.” I stare
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