Teddy, present

EARLY MORNING SUN FILTERED THROUGH THE TREES creating an ethereal feel to the wooded trail. I missed my usual walking companions, but after the awkward way the night ended last night on the tailgate of Jensen's truck, I didn't want to invite him and Scout.

Instead, I trudge along the brown path alone, trying to force my attention on my surroundings, noting all the minute seasonal changes. The budding leaves and sprouts of grass peeking through the ground couldn't compete with the events of last night, though.

My thoughts keep wandering back to Jensen's hands gripping my face and the feather-light touch of his lips against mine. I have replayed that scene about a million times, trying to deduce exactly what made him kiss me and then immediately take it back.

The hardest part to reconcile is how quick he was to backtrack, like the kiss was an accident, not worth the mention.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

How do you not mean to kiss someone? Sure, it was barely a kiss, the soft way his lips brushed over mine. They hardly made contact before they were swept away. Maybe he had merely been caught up in the moment. We'd just named our dog and the moment felt big.

Our dog.

We have a dog together. Well, that's how we phrased it, but really it's his dog. He's the one who takes care of Scout. Things were shifting lately, though. We were almost starting to feel like our own little mini family. Me, Jensen and Scout. But the reality is, I just pop in like an outsider from time to time.

When I become too annoyed by my own train of thoughts, I pick up my pace until I am racing along the path, trying to drown out the noise in my head.

The way he tugged on the sleeve of my shirt—his shirt—and said, "Nice shirt." The way he had hauled me into the house when he saw the blood on my arm. The way he cleaned up the scrape on my arm and blew on my skin. The feeling of him standing between my legs and the way he leaned into me as he stared at my lips.

"Ahhhhh!" I take my frustration out on the path, demanding my legs to pick up the pace, to outrun the frustration and confusion that pumped through my veins. All Jensen's mixed signals were messing with me. How he could be so sweet and flirty one minute and then grumpy and standoffish the next?

It felt too familiar. It felt like the morning after the infamous New Year's Eve, and all the subsequent months that came after.

"Fuck, Teddy. Your tits are my new favorite thing."

How could he go from rubbing his hard dick against me and proclaiming my boobs to be his favorite thing one minute to completely blowing me off the next?

When I nearly trip over a stick on the path, I slow my pace to a jog, my breaths ragged. I run until the path dumps me out at the edge of town. I walk along the sidewalk that will bring me back into the heart of Lake Hope.

The further into town I get, the more signs of life I see. A man raking up the dead leaves uncovered from the snow. Two small kids kneeling on their driveway, a bucket of chalk dumped out between them. A group of teenagers playing a game of basketball. A woman bending over to scroop up poop into a plastic baggie, her dog stretching the leash taut to sniff the base of a tree.

Ducking my head, I attempt to appear igcognito. I don't want to run into anyone I know. I'm in no mood to hold a conversation.

When I make it back home with only a few waves tossed at people, I let myself in and walk directly to my bathroom, stripping out of my sweaty clothes and stepping into the warm spray.

My thoughts trail to the night that has haunted me for so many years, the night that changed the course of my friendship with Jensen.

"I dare you to kiss me."

He was so unapologetically aggressive in his desire for me that night. I had never seen him like that before or since then. He's given me glimpses of that version of him over the years, teasing me with flirty touches and confusing words, but he's never followed them up with actions.

Until last night.

Last night he'd actually crossed that invisible line we had erected years ago when we'd cobbled our friendship back together again.

After the Great Drunken Debacle of New Year's Eve, as I often refer to it in my head, we'd gone the remainder of the school year without so much as a single text. I even went as far to avoid trips home if I knew he'd be here, too. But the following summer, we slowly worked our way back to each other, implementing an unspoken but strictly followed rule to never, ever speak of what happened that night and absolutely no repeated behavior that would jeopardize things again.

Now that Jensen has tiptoed over that invisible line, I am worried we'll revert to the awkwardness and superficial nature of our relationship.

Worse, though, I keep wondering what if he hadn't pulled back so quickly after kissing me last night? What if he'd deepened the kiss? What if I'd kissed him back? What if one kiss led to two and two kisses led to hands under shirts and so much more?

What if we not only stepped over the line but completely obliterated it?

When cold water sprays down my back, I realize I have been standing under the shower for however long lost in my thoughts. I turn off the water and step onto the mat to dry off. Wrapping a towel around my body, I step in front of the mirror and go through the steps of my post-shower routine.

"You were always the one that wanted to get away. I've always been trying to find ways to get you to stay."

As soon as I got sick that night, the tequila continually making its way back up, Jensen had quickly shifted from raging hormones to sweet caretaker.

He scavenged some pillows and blankets and made a bed on the empty bedroom floor, rubbing my back and giving me soft kisses on my forehead.

I woke the next morning tucked safely in Jensen's arms, my back to his front, his arms snuggling me into his warm body. For a brief moment, I sunk into the feeling of being with him like this, remembering how it felt to be more than just his best friend but an object of his desire.

But reality crashed down the minute he blinked his eyes opened. I noted the change almost instantly. He stiffened around me, his soft body suddenly taut, his arm around me tense. His body spoke of regret and my heart sunk to my stomach with the realization. With the alcohol out of our systems, the bright light of the new day was like a spotlight on the poor decisions of the night before.

Except, it felt more like an ice bath on my emerging hopes. The little buds that had formed the minute his lips met mine, and his body spoke to mine in the way I had never let myself imagine in the past.

Hi, teenage crush; meet, raging lust.

I spend the rest of the day wrapped up in my fluffy robe, stuffing my face with all the bad food I can scavenge in my house, and stare blankly at the tv. When I check my phone before bed, Scout's smiling face peeking at me from my wallpaper, I am disappointed to see no missed messages from my best friend.

-

MONDAY COMES LIKE A VENGEANCE. IT FEELS akin to the first day of school, the dread so heavy in my stomach it feels like a lead weight. For the first time ever, I desperately wish I didn't work with Jensen. If we were reverting back to the awkwardness we existed in for so many years, then I'd rather just not see him at all. I contemplate calling in sick, but if I don't show up, the animals very well might escape or starve to death.

I realize the hyperbolic path of my thoughts speaks volumes on the spiraling state of my mental health. I need a break from my own head, a moment to forget just long enough to find the reset button.

If I keep my standing Monday morning breakfast date with Rylie at Cozy Corner Café, then I'll be forced to regurgitate all the details. I've been avoiding her all weekend for this very reason. I know it won't be long before she tracks me down and forces it out of me, but I can't deal with it first thing in the morning. I type out a quick text to cancel our breakfast and then silence my phone when her subsequent texts come through.

Later, I tell myself. I'll deal with her and all of it later.