Bad feelings are one part of what sucks about this world. Good feelings are the other. Because the good stuff is what can get taken from you, the rug that gets pulled out from under you. A warming feeling that, once it's gone, leaves you out in the...
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└───────────────────┘ M E G A N
"So now that you have a little liquid courage," Ron starts. "Will you tell me what's really going on between you and mister Grimes?"
Although being this tipsy is very dangerous and stupid in this world, I don't mind the feeling as much as sober me thought I would. In a way, I actually prefer having to a slur my way through this conversation on Ron's bedroom floor, carrying out my attendance at the group's welcoming party.
"Nothing."
Although that isn't anywhere near the truth, it is exactly what I know about the situation going on between Carl and I.
Absolutely nothing.
Ron smugly cocks his head to side, a suggestive expression on his face.
"Okay," I mutter. "Maybe not nothing."
"I knew it." He starts with a grin. "Alright, spill."
"Well." I start. "The night before he left—" My words come to a stop as the corners of my lips twitch upward into an embarrassed, drunken smile. "After Deanna's party,"
"Go on."
"We kissed."
"That's it?"
"What do you mean that's it?" I ask him, seeing the disappointment in his face, as well as hearing it in his tone.
"All you two did was kiss?" He asks.
I can do nothing but give out a wobbly nod. A cheeky smile playing on my lips as the boy raises his eyebrows at my own innocence. "Is that so bad?"
"I was hoping for something a little more—" His voice hitches in his throat as he drunkenly tosses his hands in the air. "I don't know—exciting?"
"Like what?" I ask.
"Like what?" He mocks me. "You know what—and don't make me say the S word, because you know I w—"
"Okay, fine!" I say, letting out a laugh. "I know what you mean." The both of us chuckle a bit at my franticness. "And please don't."
