Page 99 of Hate Me Like You Mean It
She’s really tough too. Maybe not as tough as Adrien I don’t think, but tougher than me even though I don’t really like admitting it. She isn’t scared of bugs like I am and she wouldn’t have cried if Troy said something mean to her. She would just tell him to shove it and then carry on like nothing happened.
I wiped my face really quickly before she could stand up and see and asked her what she was doing there.
Then she did something that made everything a bajillion times worse. Out of nowhere she randomly just hugged me!!
It was the weirdest hug ever. It made me feel like I wasn’t even standing on the floor anymore. Then she told me that Troy’s head was filled with maggots and to never listen to anything he said but the whole time all I could think about was whether she knew she smelled like caramel frosting and sugar sticks. I couldn’t even talk or move. By the time I finally got my arms working again to maybe hug her back the hug was over and she was gripping my shoulders and looking at me with that angry stubborn expression she sometimes gets when I annoy her.
Then she said “I know what we’re doing for our invention project.”
I still couldn’t talk yet, so I just stared at her like some sort of moron.
“You remember when we watched the trailer for that movie with the old man and the kid and the house with the balloons?”
So anyways we’re going to pool our allowances together and buy a kiddie pool and ten thousand balloons worth of helium. That’s what Loch Ness told me after she grabbedmy hand and marched us out of the bathroom so we could wait outside for my mom.
Stay tuned.
“It’s not ten thousand balloons or a kiddie pool, but I figured you’d still enjoy the ride.”
My chest had expanded so wide, my throat constricted so tight, that I stood no chance at stringing together a coherent response. The only thing I could do was look up at where he was standing, just outside the open elevator doors, holding a bouquet of crimson roses.
Behind him, tethered to the roof of my apartment building, was a giant, fire-breathing hot-air balloon.
32
Alice
I was frozen in place, afraid to breathe or say a word in case it shattered the dream.
“I’m sorry.”
Dominic had moved, closing the distance between us. He was hovering just outside the open elevator doors, still holding a bouquet, still looking at me with a soft, almost grieving look in his golden-brown eyes, waiting for my reaction.
“You already said that,” I eventually muttered, relieved when it didn’t immediately pull me out of the dream.
He held my gaze for a few heart-stuttering beats. “Was it enough?” When I didn’t answer, he asked, “If I said it a thousand more times, would it be enough?”
“Enough for what?”
A permanent truce? A friendship? Or something else entirely?
I didn’t know what he wanted from me.
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted from him.
In lieu of an answer, he offered me the elegantly wrapped roses. “For you.”
I accepted, offering him my perfume in return. “And for you.”
His lips quirked. “I didn’t bring the hoodie with me. You’ll have to come to my place and spray it.” He held out a palm. “Shall we?”
I eyed the giant balloon and its three handlers, all of whom were doing their best to blend into the background. “How many laws would we be breaking if we rode that thing across the city?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “A dozen at most.”
“How did you even get it here?” It wasn’t like you could steer the things. They went up, down, and wherever else the wind decided to take them; hence why they were restricted to being flown over wide-open spaces and not densely populated urban areas.
“It’s a prototype. There’s a couple of engines tucked along the basket, and the balloon’s been programmed to automatically steer itself toward the landing dock of our choosing.” He paused for dramatic effect. Then, “Almost like a magnet.”
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