He was more like a brother. The death knell when it came to romantic possibilities.
Whittaker cleared his throat. I turned to look at him. Okay. I could do this. It was just a kiss.
“Reed, I've been wondering,” Whittaker said, rubbing his flat palm on the leg of his pants.
If you can kiss me? Sure. Go ahead. Get it over with.
“Would you do me the honor of being my date for th
e Legacy tomorrow night?”
“What?”
Just like that. The Golden Ticket. Tossed in my lap. Right at a moment I was dreading. I was so happy I almost laughed. But instead, I bit my lip.
196
“The Legacy. Everyone's going,” Whittaker said, mistaking my surprise for actual confusion. “I'd like you to be my date.”
“Sure. Absolutely,” I said. “I'd love to.”
Whittaker beamed. For a moment we just sat there and smiled and I thought that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same way I was. That this was just happy camaraderie. We really were just friends.
And then he grabbed my face roughly between both hands and kissed me.
Right. Maybe not.
I tried to suck in breath through my nose as Whittaker's mouth moved awkwardly over mine. Finally he pulled back, panting, and looked me in the eye. I took in as much oxygen as possible without making it obvious he had almost smothered me.
“I've wanted to do that all night,” he said. “I know I said we could just be friends, but Reed, there's this attraction between us. We can't ignore it any longer.”
Riiiiight.
Whittaker stared at me. He was waiting for me to say something. To agree with him. But I couldn't. I just couldn't lie to him about something like that. But I couldn't tell him the truth either-- that I liked him, but not in that way. It would break his heart and I couldn't do that to him. Especially not on his birthday.
“I'm so glad you're going with me,” he said finally.
All right. Enough was enough. I had to set this guy straight, even if it might mean losing out on this party, on seeing Thomas. I couldn't do this to him.
197
“Whit, I”
A sudden knock on the window caused us both to jump. Whittaker stared past me.
“It's Mrs. Lattimer,” he said.
“Oh, God.” My heart slammed into my ribcage. How long had she been there? Had she watched us kiss?
“Here. Take this,” Whittaker said, pressing something small and cold into my hand.
It was a necklace, a slim gold chain with a small ovular pendent. In the center of the oval was a tiny crown made out of itsybitsy diamonds.
“What is it?” I asked.
'You'll need it for tomorrow night,“ he replied. ”Just put it away. Quick," he said, casting Mrs. Lattimer a furtive look.
Heart pounding, I tucked the necklace into my bag, then smoothed the loose hair behind my ears and straightened my skirt. I shot Mrs. Lattimer a quick, sheepish glance through the window and she responded with a tart, knowing look.