at the edge of the cliff || ✔

chapter fifty-four: no regrets

at the edge of the cliff

chapter fifty-four: no regrets

The ceiling was such a boring thing to look at, especially all day. I couldn't get up because I didn't want to wake him, and luckily for me, no one has came in. Fortunately I remembered to lock the door. Of course Grayson was passed out beside me, snoring lightly in my ear. And I have been laying here, in his arms, legs tangled, staring into nothingness, playing and then replaying what happened.

I mean, we kissed.

I knew that there was always something between us, but I never thought we'd end up together.

But we're not together.

Are we? There is a 50/50 chance that he remembers absolutley nothing that happened this morning. And if he doesn't, how do I tell him? Or do I tell him at all? I could just make up some story about how he drove to my house drunk and I told him just to stay here. But what if he does remember? What would that mean? Would we talk about it? Would we become, like, a thing? Or would we act like it didn't happen? Worse, what if he says it was a mistake?

Since I've been laying here for hours, I've had a lot of time to think. And I've come to the conclusion that I don't regret it. At all. It was too. . .powerful, full of emotions, to mean nothing. For me anyways. It was too good to mean nothing. It felt so right. Like we were meant to be there, like that. But maybe its just one sided. But after that debate with myself, my mind also went over every hand hold, longing stares, deep conversations, and sleep overs we have ever had. That couldn't just mean nothing, right?

I think its pretty obvious that I have some feelings for him. Now all I have to do is figure out what to do with them. And how he feels. And what he wants to do.

Okay, so there is a lot to do and think about.

Ugh. This is so complicated.

But another thing I realized is that I am having a normal, teenage girl problem. I'm having a boy problem. Not about foster homes. Not about my abusive, psychopathic father. Not about where I am going to sleep or what I'm going to do. Not worrying about my mother. No court dates. No, nothing like that. Just a boy problem.

But this stupid boy is stressing me out more than any of those problems.

I'm pretty sure I jumped out of my skin when the man of the hour, or many, many hours, turned onto his back. He groaned loudly, or maybe it was just because he was so close to my face. I didn't even bother acting like I was asleep, so I just watched as he shifted, and then look down at me confused. I felt my heart clench at the possibility of him remembering nothing. But I searched his face. A look of realization flashes across and he gives me a small smile. The only the I could do was sigh and untangle our bodies and push myself up to I'm leaning against my headboard. "Morning." I say quietly, watching as he sits up as well.

"Yeah. Good morning." He mumbles, rubbing his hands down his face.

"You know," I start feeling a smirk form on my lips. He twisted to where he's facing me. "I wish I could feel bad for you, I really do, but after that stunt you pulled this morning, I just can't." I say shrugging. His straight face immediately drops as he stares at me with a now somewhat offended and sad face. I realized what I said. "No!" I rush out. "I meant you driving drunk. Not. . .the other thing." My eyes go to anywhere but his. Wow Shay, way to make a guy feel bad. It sounded like I meant us kissing. Ugh. I am such am idiot.

"Oh. Right. That." He says, his face brightening up the little bit.

"Yeah, that." The air wasn't exactly awkward, but it defiantly wasn't comfortable.