His eyes turn to me. The hazel is practically mocking, and even though I don't react, there's no way he doesn't notice the way my face warms when he stares at me a beat too long.
Jo would kill me. It's enough to get it from Amy, but me too? God.
_...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I think I'm ill.
I keep replaying the events of New Years over and over inside my head, and the image of the Laurence boy twirling me around the kitchen as we stifle laughter into our palms is on replay.
"Oh god," Laurie outright giggles girlishly. His hip had just knocked into the kitchen table, and we freeze for a moment, eyes wide, before we hear the chatter from the living-room continuing.
"This is not proper at all—whA!" I gasp. Laurie dips me dangerously low, and I can't breathe I'm laughing so hard.
Thank God above my sisters like to hear their own voices, or else we would've been discovered by now. He yanks me up, one hand on my waist and the other tightly clutching mine, and when I'm upright my head is so close to his I can feel his breath—sharp with mint—against my face.
"Who cares about what is proper." He grins, and then dips me again.
"You alright, Lillian?" Meg's soft voice cuts into my daydream, and I force the smile off my face.
"Yes." I mutter, and clench my fist in my lap, forcing my eyes back down at 'Pride and Prejudice.'
A loud clang resounds as Jo drops down into the chair across from me, munching charismatically on an apple. The table shakes so I glance up, annoyed, and she meets my gaze.
"Wha?" She garbles around a mouth of red russet, and I glower at her.
A particularly large twirl almost sends me into the wall, and I grab onto Laurie, a rush of adrenaline singing in my veins. He laughs breathlessly and grasps onto me, and we stand still for a moment, just holding each other and struggling for air.
"Please don't talk with food in your mouth," Meg chastises, and Jo holds up one hand, mouthing off and imitating Meg's words with a flapping palm.
Beth snorts from the end of the table and I glance at her, my lips twisting into a smile. One of the cat's kittens is curled up in Beth's arms, and my quiet sister meets my eyes, smiling faintly.
