Everything I Wanted

Avoidance - 33

Story woke up feeling like she had been thrown into another universe. The second her eyes fluttered open, she was met with the gut-wrenching memory of last night—the kiss.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she shot upright in bed, breaths shallow. I kissed Billie. I kissed Billie. The words replayed like a broken record in her mind.

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would erase the feeling of Billie's lips on hers, the warmth of her hands cupping Story's face, the way time had slowed down in the most cinematic way possible. It had been soft, slow, and... real.

But that was exactly why it terrified her.

She groaned, flopping back against the pillows and gripping her face with both hands. "What the hell did I do?"

Her phone buzzed. She didn't have to check it to know it was Billie.

She couldn't look. Not yet.

Instead, she rolled over, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together her emotions. One part of her wanted to bask in the moment—admit that, for the first time in a long time, she had felt something good, something effortless and electric. But the other part? That part was screaming that this was a mistake. That she was straight. That she had only ever been into guys. That she and Billie were friends.

The weight of it all was too much.

Her phone buzzed again. She swallowed hard, hesitating before finally picking it up.

Bils🤍: Hey, can we talk?
Bils🤍: Please?

Story stared at the messages, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Her chest ached at the thought of Billie waiting for a response—waiting for some kind of reassurance that everything was okay. But she wasn't ready to give that to her.

So instead, she set her phone down, turned it on Do Not Disturb, and forced herself out of bed.

✨

She spent the morning distracting herself.

She helped her mom clean up the hotel room, made herself a second cup of coffee she didn't even drink, scrolled through Instagram without actually absorbing anything. Anything to keep her mind occupied.

At some point, Laurel noticed her daughter's restless energy.

"You okay, honey?" she asked gently.

Story forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired."

Her mom didn't push, but Story could tell she wasn't convinced.

By noon, she was practically crawling out of her own skin. She needed to do something, needed to be anywhere but here—trapped in her own spiraling thoughts.

Then, like divine intervention, her phone buzzed again.

Gracie 🩷: Hey loser, what are you doing today?

Relief flooded through her. Gracie. She was exactly who Story needed right now.

Story: Absolutely nothing. Can I come over?

Gracie 🩷: Duh. Get your ass over here.

Without thinking twice, Story grabbed her bag, told her mom she was going to see Gracie, and rushed out of the hotel before she could change her mind.

The entire uber ride to Gracie's apartment, her mind was a mess.

She knew Gracie would see right through her the second she walked in. But maybe that's what she needed. Someone to tell her what to do, how to feel, how to make sense of the chaos in her head.