Opposite Force

Chapter Fourteen

Mikaela Martin | Present

Air vanishes from my lungs. No, he isn't. He can't be. Liam isn't in love with me. He's my friend. He's practically my brother.

"I have been for years, and now you're with a guy who's all wrong for you, and it's killing me. I need you to know that. And I need you to know that I can't be your friend, not while you're with him. It kills me to see you together."

"Liam—" I whisper.

"No. I'm not done. I've loved you since middle school, Mikaela. I loved you when you had braces. I loved you before you got hot. He didn't. He didn't even know your name until—"

The slap echoes in the otherwise silent night. Annalise's hand remains raised while Liam doubles over in pain, clutching his cheek. "Don't you dare talk to my best friend like that," she growls.

I feel my phone buzzing through my purse. It's a text from Peyton, asking where I am.

"You're choosing him?" Liam snaps. "How? You just met him."

"Peyton isn't making her choose," Annalise snaps back. To me, she says softly, "Go find Peyton. I'll be in soon. Liam and I have some talking to do first."

I stumble inside, barely able to keep my tears contained. Liam's confession rings in my head. I'm in love with you, Mikaela. Why would he wait so long to tell me? Also, if he's already waited this long, couldn't he have kept the secret inside one more day?

"Mikaela!" Peyton's voice booms through the gym.

I force a smile onto my face and stride towards him, narrowly missing a group of girls huddled together. I feel their stares on my back as I rush to my boyfriend, needing him.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, concern replacing the giddy smile that dominated his features mere seconds ago.

"Yes." Breathe in, breathe out. "He's at it again. Liam. Being a jerk." I swallow the ever-persistent lump in my throat. "I don't want to think about it."

"Want to dance?"

I'm terrible at dancing. I can barely walk two feet without tripping. Moving in tune with a beat is an impossible endeavor. "Um... I'm not... I can't dance," I blurt out.

Peyton shrugs. "Me neither. Ready?"

I don't know what I'm doing, but Peyton kind of does, so I go along with it. He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around my waist while I lock mine around his neck. There's barely any space between our bodies, and every molecule of air between us is scorching. Whether the burn is telling me to move closer or separate, I'm not sure.

We sway just a little, not really in tune with the pop playing in the background. We're just...together, and when Peyton's arms tighten around my waist, I don't hesitate. I close the distance between us and peer up at him, proud of my own bravery. Peyton's lips tug into a huge smile, one so radiant he'd light up a black hole (kidding). His eyes flit to my lips.

I've seen other couples kissing here. PDA isn't really frowned upon at school dances, not unless the couple gets way out of hand. But PDA is still public. And it's still a display. And Mikaela Martin tries her very hardest not to display anything publicly.

I don't want to embarrass myself, but I don't want to let Peyton down either. With a deep breath, I move my eyes to his lips, indicating a silent okay, and he leans down to kiss me. His lips are soft and warm and minty, and I think I might lose my mind when they part and our kiss deepens. The music fades as Peyton's hold on my waist becomes stronger. I'm lost in him, completely understanding why couples make out at school dances.