Page 58 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
I smile despite myself. “Silly me,” I say. Then, with a sigh, I add, “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Start slow,” Gemma suggests, tilting her head. “Do you like Soren? Not the author—the person. Do you like him?”
“I…yeah, I think so. Maybe,” I say. “I’m not completely sure.”
“I think you do,” she says. “But take some time to figure it out. There’s no rush. He’s not the kind of guy to push you.”
“He’s not,” I agree.
“And he kissed you,” Gemma goes on, “but do you know if it was just a kiss, or if he has feelings for you?”
“He said he likes me, but that could mean so many different things,” I say as my thoughts whirl. “Like maybe he thinks I’m cute and he’d like to kiss me some more, or maybe he wants to marry me tomorrow.” Both thoughts are terrifying. “I really have no idea.”
“Hmm,” Gemma says, her eyes narrowing as she thinks. “Okay. Well, keep thinking about it. Spend some time with him and see how you feel.”
“I will,” I say, since I know I’m not going to be able to get him out of my brain anyway. I can’t believe the things I said to him. Have I lost my mind?
I must have. There’s no other explanation.
Gemma and I chat for a few more minutes—in the bathroom, because why not—before we go back out to the shop. Jojo squawks when we emerge, and Gemma shoots him a nasty look. She’s not his biggest fan. To be fair, I don’t think he’s particularly fond of her either.
I loiter at the book counter for a bit, ringing up a few customers and rearranging things needlessly. Then I head back to the kitchen to check on Mel, trying to look casual as I pass Soren and his writing group. Juniper, the woman with pink hair, has a notebook open in front of her, and she’s nodding as Soren says something. Her boyfriend is leaning back in his chair, paying little attention to them; I don’t think he’s actually doing any writing. I think he came along to be with her. I don’t let myself stare at any of them—Soren especially—even though I could sit and watch him write for hours and not get bored. This is work for him; he doesn’t need distractions.
I thought it would be a good idea to touch him earlier; wrapping my arm around his felt natural. Nice, even. But I wasn’t prepared for someone to assume that we were a couple. It’s something I should have thought about.
I should have thought about everything.
A list. I need to make a list. Pronto.
I abandon my trajectory, doing an awkward turn in the middle of the café and then heading straight back to the storage room—my list-making haven. It feels a little different in here now, given the whole police interrogation from the other day, but I close the door behind me all the same.
“Paper,” I mutter under my breath, glancing around. “Paper, paper—ah.” I spot a notepad resting on top of a large cardboard box, a pen right next to it. “Excellent. Okay.”
I start immediately, scrawling the lettersS. M.across the top. Then I begin listing pros and cons, off the top of my head.
And yes. I know it’s kind of crappy to make a pros and cons list about a person. But…that’s kind of where I am right now, and I kind of need to figure my thoughts and feelings out. So I continue to write.
Pros:
-I might secretly love his hair
-He makes me smile
-His books are incredible
-He smells good
-I liked when he hugged me
-He makes me feel safe
I tap my pen against my lips for a second, rereading what I’ve got. I think that covers the heart of it—I feel safe and happy with him. So I move on.
Cons:
-I might secretly hate his hair?
-Because maybe I’m jealous of how pretty it is and also it’s annoying that he’s so attractive?
