The Trouble with Kissing Connor

Chapter 9 (Sadie)

By the time Wednesday came, I was finished. I got home from school that afternoon and thew myself down on my bed. I was exhausted! Lying to your best friend all day and pretending you're fine when actually YOU'RE DYING INSIDE, was hard work.

Everything was such a mess. No, mess was an understatement. Mess is the kind of word you use to describe your bedroom, or the kitchen sink. Mess was not the right word for the situation I currently found myself in. Because in this mess, my mess, someone was bound to get hurt and I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be Connor. When he didn't find the so-called girl of his dreams, he'd probably walk away from the ordeal with only a spot of disappointment. Me? I was probably going to need a heart transplant once mine was adequately shattered into a million pieces.

I sighed loudly because it felt like something was crushing down on my ribcage. I felt nervous. Agitated and I was just about to stick my finger into my mouth and nibble on my cuticle when...

"It's unladylike to bite your fingers, Sadie Glover," a high-pitched voice said. "What are you, a cannibal? Do you know how many calories there are in cuticles? Wait... is a cuticle a carbohydrate?" It was Connor and he was climbing through my window.

I wanted to be mad at him, but, instead, I laughed. I couldn't help it; he was so sexy and cute and was doing such a good impersonation of my mother.

"Did you read that article I sent you about how cuticle biting leads to digestive problems and gluten intolerance?" he continued in that put on voice adding some dramatic arm movements to his performance, the kind that only my mother did.

I laughed even harder—Damn, why did he have to be so funny too?

Connor flopped down on my bed with such force that for a second I fell backwards onto him. My body burst into flames. A sudden rampant bush fire that incinerates a whole field in seconds and burns so hot that it turns stones to glass, raged through me.

I sat up as quickly as possible and moved away from him.

"What? Do I smell?" Connor said, pulling his shirt up to his nose and giving it a big, revolting sniff. I could see he'd been exercising; his face was glowing, his forehead was slightly damp and so was his hair. He ran his hand through his hair and some of the wet strands stuck straight up—God, he looks so cute right now. Maybe if he wasn't so good looking I wouldn't be such a hopeless basket case. Probably not, though. Unlike the other 99.9% of the girls at school, his looks aren't why I like him. Like him...let's not fool myself here. Love him.

"Yeah, you stink," I said, playing along, swatting the air and then pushing him away from me.

"Sorry." He jumped off the bed and then did something that almost caused me to faint (and was probably the worst possible thing he could have done under the circumstance.) He pulled his shirt off, totally off, and walked back towards the window looking like a hot male stripper (not that I know what one looks like) and proceeded to sit down on the windowsill.

I looked away immediately. Even though I'd seen him shirtless a million times before, it felt different this time, especially when I thought about the fact that, just a few days ago, my fingers had been pressed against that chest. I cleared my throat and picked up something useless to fiddle with.

My heart was pounding, but it soon slowed when I realized how sad this whole scene really was—You know you are totally friendzoned when he's so comfortable around you that he treats you like one of the guys in the locker room. I knew I needed to act normal, so I turned around and made eye contact with him, hoping my eyes didn't involuntarily move South to his chest.

"So, I had a thought," he said, now reclining against the window frame—are you kidding me? Now he was busy posing for the front cover of a magazine.

"Mmmm?" I mumbled, trying to quell the surge of hormones that were making my blood feel ten degrees hotter.

"I was thinking, that maybe mystery mint kisser isn't from our school."

"Sorry who?" The lava in my veins ran cold.

"Mystery mint kisser." He smiled at me, seeming pleased with the stupid nickname he'd obviously given her.

"What if she's one of Brenna's friends?" As he said that, he stood up and stretched his arms above his head, this caused his six-pack to do all sorts of crazy things. I tried not to stare. "Bit stiff from practice," he said and then moved his muscular arms in circles for a while before sitting back down.

"Mmmmm," I said, the blood lava was flowing again. I fixed my unblinking eyes so intently on his face that I was sure I looked like one of those creepy dolls from a horror movie.

"Mmmmm?" Connor echoed playfully. "Is that a 'yes'?"

I shrugged casually, "Yeah... I guess hey. I mean... maybe and maybe not...Anyway." I followed that useless sentence with another big shrug. I was trying to keep it casual, but was clearly failing miserably.

"And if she is?" I asked, collecting myself. "How will you find out?"

"I'm going to have a small party on Saturday night. I'll ask Bret's sister Brenna to invite them."

Wow! I suddenly felt like I'd been punched in the face. I knew he was taking this thing seriously, but now it just seemed out of control.

"Well, enjoy yourself," I said dismissively.

"Hey. Hey." Connor rushed over to me and grabbed my shoulders. "You can't bail on me."

"Hang out with Brenna and the convent brigade on a Saturday night? I'd rather let McKenzie give me root canal."

"But I need you, Sadie," Connor begged before he flashed a downtrodden puppy dog look at me. I wanted to slap him, kiss him, slap him, kiss.... Arrraaggg!  "I need you," he pleaded again.

I pulled out of his grip, that bush fire feeling was starting again. "What for?" I asked. "So I can frisk them for packets of gum as they come in?"

"If that's what it takes." He smiled at me, then winked before making a bee line for the window and climbing out. "Gotta go. Bye, Dude. I have a party to start planning."

I got up and walked over to the window and watched him climb down the trellis shirtless. When he got to the bottom he looked up and shot me a smile, before running across towards his house, totally and utterly oblivious to how uselessly in love I was with him.