Escape! Escape!
Wed Feb 21, 2018 22:52

Now Marissa was apologizing, too, which in a way seemed to make more sense than when he had been apologizing. After all, she was the one who had initiated the whole kissing him thing (bleh). But for that same reason, it made sense for him to be the one apologizing. Because he had been the recipient and it was his reaction that made it all go horribly wrong. Kissing someone else on some random impulse was, like, a pretty brave and also stupid but mostly brave thing to do, and he should probably have some sort of respect for Marissa for doing that.

And by ‘should’, what he really meant was ‘did’. Being able to impulsively do things was a trait about Marissa that intimidated him, and sometimes he wished in a not entirely genuine way that he hadn’t been dragged along for it, but no matter what, he admired how confident she was being impulsive. Kissing impulsively seemed like a particularly big deal to his limited worldly experience. Russell had come close to trying it himself at that wedding over the summer - well, okay, not exactly close by normal person standards. Close by Russell standards. As in, he had tossed out a forced-casual (and slightly influenced by the slightly alcoholic drink his mom had handed over) compliment of Josh’s bad dance moves, then briefly considered his mouth and face overall, then completely chickened out and forced an unfunny joke about Josh’s brother’s even worse dance moves.

Chickening out had been a predictable turn of events, though still pretty stupid and also smart but mostly stupid. Russell had, predictably, regretted it, just a little. Marissa hadn’t chickened out - she had been brave - and yet here she was, clearly regretting it anyways, and it was entirely his fault for reacting the way he had. Maybe there was just no point to impulsivity. Whether he or the people around him gave into it or not, there was always regret and embarrassment and other disappointing adjectives. That was a constant that just followed him everywhere, apparently.

“Of course I don’t hate you,” he insisted immediately, head twisting up in a minor panic at the realization that she might think that. “Never. Let’s just, just forget it. Yeah.” Russell nodded emphatically and resumed walking back towards the supply shed. This was a great plan. They could pretend it never happened and get on with their lives and friendship. Their non-kissing friendship. Great. He couldn’t do it. “Marissa,” he ventured, readjusting the brooms in his hand and staring straight ahead as he felt his cheeks heating up again, “it really wasn’t your fault, okay? It’s my bad. I should’ve - acted like it was fine or something, instead of - I didn’t have to get all - it just surprised me - I didn’t mean to - am I gay?” Well now he’d done it. That was supposed to be his mental voice. Blushing further, Russell’s broom-fidgeting turned into broom-dropping. He managed to catch Marissa’s before it actually fell, but let his flop unhelpfully onto the grass, like his brain.

  • Abort mission! - Marissa, Sun Feb 11 17:46
    Sometimes, it was easy to tell that something was going to be a mistake and stop it. When she’d almost gone on one of those questionable carnival rides at a fair, but she’d just finished a whole... more
    • Escape! Escape! - Russell, Wed Feb 21 22:52
      • That's what I was trying to do! - Marissa, Sat Mar 3 21:39
        Forgetting about it sounded like the perfect way to handle the situation. It would be best for their friendship – Marissa desperately didn’t want Russell to go back to square one and be nearly... more
Click here to receive daily updates