Kiernan and Montana aren't looking for complicated in their Chicago summer, but somehow complicated has found them.
[co-written with @w1ldflow3r]
[extended summary inside]
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I had to go to Jed and Montana's apartment alone tonight. Emelia was spending the long weekend at her family's lake house in Door County, Wisconsin, so it was just me and my steely wits.
According to Emelia, the only time Montana permitted Jed to host a party was for what he called "back to school night," as in one final celebration before Jed resumed wrangling third graders on a daily basis.
But while it was Jed's party, I knew full well that Montana would be present. He'd even texted me earlier to remind me of the party's start time, as if I would've forgotten otherwise.
After being buzzed in and directed to the elevator bank by the doorman, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. As a perpetual overthinker, I'd learned a few tricks of how to avoid overthinking. My favorite trick was to distract myself, and the campaign proved to be the perfect distraction. I'd worked longer hours than usual, and thus hadn't had time to dissect what had happened between us at my birthday.
Montana and I hadn't even discussed the kiss, at least not explicitly.
And while I classified myself as an overthinker, I wasn't someone who needed constant validation. This wasn't the first time I'd kissed a friend, though I wasn't sure if I'd ever labeled Montana as a friend before I started to question whether he might be something more.
And that was what I allowed myself to reflect on before the doors opened on the fifth floor. I stepped off with no sense of clarity, but resigned myself to just having a fun Saturday night.
I checked the address Montana had sent me for the umpteenth time before knocking on the apartment door. The hallway was relatively quiet, so music seeped through the undetectable crack at the bottom.
I had just flicked off a rogue piece of lint from my black criss-cross halter top when Jed flung the door open. His jaw promptly dropped.
After casting a glance over my shoulder to ensure I wasn't about to get murdered by an axeman, I addressed Jed's apparent surprise with nonchalance.
"Hey, Jed."
Jed slid the flashing light-up glasses he wore down the bridge of his nose, sending a multitude of colored circles bouncing off the narrow walls of the foyer. He stared at me for a long moment, long enough for me to overhear the lyrics of the only Swedish House Mafia song I knew, before yanking me into a one-arm hug.
"You're here!"
I chuckled, and gave his shoulder a friendly pat as I pulled away. "I'm supposed to be, right?"
Jed grinned. "I knew you got my invite, but I wasn't sure if you actually liked to hang out with us when Em's not around."
The ease with which he spoke was enough to convince me that Montana had kept our kiss between us. I didn't know if I should be relieved or flattered. Maybe it was some combination of both.
