Nobody in Particular(53)

He shuffles on his bed and plants a fist under his chin to prop it up. He’s still wearing his school uniform, a pants-and-blazer version of ours, in the same shade of forest green. “Don’t you think there’s something we should talk about?” he hedges.

“Well, you certainly seem to,” I say. “Why don’t you start us off?”

“Fine.” He fluffs his pillow beneath him and sprawls against it. “I think we need to talk about the fact that we kissed. You haven’t forgotten we kissed, right?”

“Oh yes, so we did,” I joke, and he shoots me a death glare. Point taken.

“It’s just that we kissed, and then we both pretended it didn’t happen at all. And I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up, but maybe you’ve been waiting for me to bring it up, so I thought one of us had better do it.”

I think of the last few weeks, and what has held my attention. And how very little time I’ve spent thinking about Alfie kissing me at all, let alone wishing he would talk to me about it. In fact, when I have thought of Alfie, it’s been to hope we simply never address it again and we can pretend it was a fever dream or hallucination. Alas.

“Right,” I say, because what on earth do I say?

I think the expression on my face must say it all, because Alfie seems to deflate a little. And at this, I finally feel ashamed. I should have brought it up earlier, no matter how heinously uncomfortable, to explain to him I don’t have feelings for him. It was cruel of me to leave him to dwell on this, hoping my silence told him everything he needed to know. Worse, it was cowardice. Certainly not something a Good Person does to her friends.

“Look, Rosie, I just want to make sure we’re still friends. I don’t want things to become awkward between us because of one stupid kiss. That’s all.”

That’s all? Relief drains all the tension from my body in a gush, and I nod eagerly. “I completely agree. Not that I could ever stop being friends with you.”

“Really?” he asks, and there’s that stab of shame again.

“Of course not. It’s not like that at all. I am sorry for not bringing it up sooner, though.”

He gives me a smile that certainly seems genuine. “What did your family say?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. “Take a guess. Go on.”

He pretends to mull it over. “Hmm. I would imagine they loved the positive attention it got you in the papers. And the fact that it drowned out the mean stories for a week or so. And that they were rapturous at the prospect of having me as a future son-in-law. I hope they take the disappointment of this well, by the way.”

“Very accurate,” I say. “Particularly the part about the papers. I think they were rather hoping we’d do it again.” I realize too late this sounds as though I’m hinting I would like the same, and stifle a groan.

“Well, there’s no reason we can’t give them more to write about, is there?” he asks.

I cock my head. “Uhh…”

“Oh, don’t look so panicked, Rosie, I mean platonically. Only they don’t have to know it’s platonic. We could fake date!”

“Fake date?” I echo.

“Absolutely. We can catch up in person a couple of times, maybe hold hands for the cameras, and bam. You get more stories that have nothing to do with your many flaws.”

I blink in surprise. “And what do you get?”

“More time hanging out with you,” he says simply. “You can be hard to pin down, you know. Plus, I think it’ll be extremely funny to watch them take things and run with them. It means we can control the narrative for once.”

Truthfully, I’m not sure why Alfie is speaking as though he has any difficulty with that. I have to admit, he has a valid point, though. It would be nice to manipulate the media for once, rather than allowing it to manipulate how my own citizens feel about me. Of course, I’ll have to check it with Danni, but if she’s comfortable with it, then why not?

“You do mean platonically, yes?” I ask, just to check.

He smirks a little. “Rosie. Trust me. I’m not sitting here envisioning some sort of great love story between us where you’ll realize your true feelings for me after you hold my hand a couple of times. And besides, no offense, but the kiss was a little…”

“What?” I ask, quite ready to take offense anyway.

“It wasn’t very good,” he finishes, and I bristle. “Not because of you!” he clarifies quickly. “You’re a wonderful kisser. It’s just, it felt, sort of … very…”

“Platonic?” I finish for him, and he nods eagerly. “I felt exactly the same,” I say, relieved.

“There was nothing there. Which is fine,” he adds. “Sometimes you just have to try something out, just in case, right?”

“Absolutely. I—” I break off as an incoming call notification fills half my screen. “Alfie, can I call you back? William’s trying to get in touch.”

“Oh, of course. Actually I’m about to start working on an essay, but I’ll message you later?”

“Perfect.”

Well, that went far better than expected. All that procrastination and avoidance, only to have Alfie understand completely? I feel silly. Of course, I should have known Alfie would understand. It’s only that trust is coming harder and harder to me these days.