Page 19
Story: Backhanded Compliments
Kacic stares at her as if she’s waiting for Juliette to offer a solution. Juliette had planned on visiting her favorite café this morning. She decides not to invite Kacic. She may feel bad for what she said to Kacic last night, but she’d rather have a peaceful morning without Kacic’s scrutiny.
Juliette wishes Kacic had picked a shirt that was a different color, preferably one that wouldn’t turn see-through the moment it got wet. Sweat runs down her temple, and sticky strands of her drenched hair cling to the curve of her throat and her shoulders. It’s distracting, especially the beads of sweat on her shoulders, her collarbones…
Juliette turns and heads out of the kitchen, trying to ignore the uncomfortable knots in her stomach. “Go take a shower.” Juliette pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “You’re very sweaty,” she adds at Kacic’s furrowed brow.
Kacic looks down at herself as if she’s just realized she’s dripping.
Juliette follows her eyes and tries not to swallow too obviously as her gaze traces the dip of Kacic’s waist and the strip of skin above the band of her loose black shorts, the lines of her abs.
She snaps her gaze back to Kacic’s before she says something stupid and then she realizes she’s been caught staring. Kacic’s eyes widen, and Juliette watches her swallow, clearly startled.
Juliette scowls and storms away with as much dignity as she can muster.
TENJULIETTE
By the time Juliette has showered the sweat from the previous night off, detangled her hair, and flopped into the pool lounger, her headache is almost entirely gone.
She apologizes to the sun for hating it earlier and tilts her face into the rays, soaking in the happiness. She almost misses the soft hiss of the sliding door opening and the rustle of someone stepping out. She waits, wondering if Kacic is going to say something. She can feel Kacic’s eyes tracing her face, and she fights the urge to swallow, suddenly self-conscious.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Juliette says finally.
Kacic inhales sharply.
Juliette opens one eye, glancing sidelong at her. Kacic is picking at the skin around her thumbs, a faint blush across her high cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. It could be from the heat, but Juliette lets a smirk curve on her mouth.
“Like what you see?” she asks, just to see Kacic’s teeth clench.
“You have an eyelash on your cheek,” Kacic says primly.
Juliette rubs her cheek, which makes Kacic click her tongue and step forward.
“Wrong side,” Kacic murmurs, leaning down. Her hair swings over her shoulder, curtaining them. The sun glints on the silky strands, her fair lashes white in the light, her lips slightly parted and a delicate pink.She’s so pretty.
Juliette tenses, her eyes widening as Kacic tenderly brushes her thumb across her cheekbone. Juliette’s every thought blanks as heatpools in her belly. Kacic holds out her thumb, a long dark lash clinging to the tip.
“Make a wish,” Kacic says, soft as if sharing a secret, close enough to be heart-poundingly intimate.
Juliette closes her eyes, and she gently blows the lash away.
I wish I could stop falling.
It’s a strange wish, one that comes out of nowhere, but those are the words in her head as she watches the lash flutter away. Luckily, Kacic doesn’t ask and retreats a safe distance away, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I didn’t really mean to be such a bitch last night,” Juliette blurts out, the uncomfortable knots in her stomach tightening to nausea.
Kacic scuffs the toe of her sneaker against the sandy gravel. “Well, you’re pretty good at it.”
Juliette rises.
“I was drunk,” she says, knowing it’s not an excuse, but she doesn’t have the words to apologize.
The full force of Kacic’s narrowed gaze lands on her, and all her words die in her throat. “What do you want me to say? Let’s be best friends and frolic in a field somewhere? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me.”
There is a scathing finality to the words, and Juliette winces. “Listen, I didn’t—I don’t—” she stutters, unsure what to say.
“Don’t what, Ricci?” Kacic demands.
She doesn’t like the scrutiny of Kacic’s gaze, as if she sees through Juliette’s skin and bones to the rotten edges of her. Her stomach twists and she swallows, tasting bile in the back of her throat. It’s strange hearing her name on Kacic’s tongue. She can’t formulate any thoughts when Kacic is staring at her like that.
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