Page 93 of The Carrie Diaries (The Carrie Diaries 1)

Doesn’t everyone? I’m about to speak, but something about his expression stops me. There’s a flicker of hostility mixed with a searching compassion. Is he offering me love, or throwing it back in my face?

I falter, thinking I’ll always remember how he looked at that moment because I can’t fathom his intent. “Why?” I ask. “Why would Lali take my clothes?”

“Because she thought you were being a pain in the ass.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. She said you two are always playing practical jokes on each other. She said you gave her Ex-Lax gum before a meet.”

“We were twelve.”

“So?”

“So—”

“Are you going to break up with me now?” he asks suddenly.

“Oh, God.” I pull my knit cap over my face. That’s why he was at my house this morning. That’s why he took me ice skating. He wants to break up with me but he’s afraid to do it, so he wants me to break up with him. It’s why he was dancing with Donna LaDonna last night, too. He’s going to behave as badly as possible until I have no other choice.

Not that I haven’t been considering it for the past twelve hours.

While I was dancing with Walt and Randy at the club in Provincetown, the idea of “dumping the bastard” was like rocket fuel, shooting me into a stratosphere of uncaring bliss. I danced harder and harder, pounding out my aggressions, wondering why I needed Sebastian when I could have this—this carnival of sweaty bodies that flicker and flash like fireflies—this is fun.

“Fuck Sebastian,” I’d screamed, waving my arms over my head like a crazed worshiper at a revival meeting.

Randy, strutting beside me, replied, “Honey, it all happens for a reason.”

But now I’m not so sure. Do I really want to break up with him? I’ll miss him. And surely I’ll be bored without him. How can you change your feelings in a day?

And maybe—just maybe—Sebastian is the one who’s terrified. Maybe he’s scared of disappointing a girl, of not being good enough, so he pushes her away before she can find out that he’s not this incredible, special guy that he pretends to be. When he said I was cool on the outside but wanted love on the inside—maybe that wasn’t about me. Maybe he was secretly referring to himself.

“I don’t know. Do I have to decide right now?” I peel my hat back, looking up at him.

And this, apparently, is the right thing to say, because he looks at me and laughs. “You’re crazy.”

“So are you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to break up with me?”

“Only because you’re so sure I want to. I’m not that easy, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” He takes my hand as we skate across the pond.

“I want to do it, but I can’t,” I whisper.

“Why not?”

We’re in his room. “Are you scared?” he asks.

“A little.” I roll onto my elbow. “I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t always hurt. Some girls really love it the first time they do it.”

“Yeah. Like Maggie.”

“See? All your friends are doing it. Don’t you feel stupid being the only one who isn’t?”

No. “Yes.”