Perfectly Wrong

Chapter Five

Eleonora let out a sigh, her eyes focussed on the stain on her ceiling. The young girl who lived in this room before her had apparently squeezed a bottle of glitter glue a bit too hard and it had exploded. As far as stains go, a glittery one wasn't so bad.

She let her eyes wander from the ceiling and around the room. You could tell it was meant to be a child's room; her double bed barely fit in it.

She wished she was a kid again. Life was easier then.

She didn't have to worry about kissing her friend's crush and the risk of getting her heart broken back then.

She couldn't stop thinking about it; the kiss.

She didn't know kissing someone could feel like that.

Not that she'd kissed that many boys, but kissing other boys had never been like kissing Edoardo.

She groaned. Her head already hurt from her hangover, she didn't need her thoughts joining in on the party. She gave her blankets a shove, disentangling her body from them so she could get out of bed. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she thanked her former self for leaving a glass of water on her bedside table. At least she'd done one smart thing last night.

Nope, back in dangerous territory.

Nursing her forehead with one hand, she made her way into the kitchen to find something unhealthy to stuff her face with.

She could tell her parents weren't home from the stillness of the house as she walked through it. Good. She didn't want to deal with them right now. She gave the kitchen counter a brief glance as she walked past. No note. Of course.

She decided then that she didn't have much of an appetite.

Rubbing her forehead with the heels of both hands, Eleonora groaned. She'd shower instead, that was a good plan. Clean her sins off.

She slumped to the floor in the shower, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat there for far too long, letting her soaked hair create a curtain between her and the rest of the world.

She didn't know where to go from here.

She could pretend it never happened, blame it on the alcohol and justify never telling Silvia somehow. But she'd irreversibly admitted to herself, and Edoardo, that she liked him. It wasn't just mild flirtation now, she'd basically thrown herself at him.

She'd actually pulled him to her but, y'know, details.

God, she really liked him. But he was Edoardo. It was a surefire recipe for disaster.

She used to pride herself on being one of those girls who never let a boy get in the way of friendship. She used to go on and on about how no boy was that special, how there were so many of them you could just find a replacement.

And then she had to go and get attached to Edoardo.

She kept having to remind herself he'd treated Silvia badly, that he'd slept with a ridiculous amount of girls and was only interested in one thing, that he'd inevitably break her heart into a million pieces.

But when he held her like he did last night, when he drunkenly slurred that they'd figure anything out together, when he'd looked at her on the dance floor with so much insecurity...it was easy to let herself fall for that boy.

But what was she going to do? Date him and let Silvia hate her when they'd inevitably break up in a month or two? He'd get sick of waiting for sex, or he'd finally get it and leave. She'd be a mark on a wall, and it'd be over.