Rickola

Rickola | Chapter Nine

Rickola | Chapter Nine

© Katelyn Moore

It didn’t seem to matter that both Dean and I were a little sweaty from our workout because we had always been comfortable around each other. I wouldn’t usually make out with a guy in my current physical condition, but with Dean, it was okay. I was also right when I thought that the only way to shut him up was to kiss him. It worked, quickly, too. He fell into the kiss just as easily as I did and all conversation about Rick Avery ceased.

Guilt spread through me like wildfire when I pulled away from Dean; I shouldn’t have kissed him for the reasons I did, but he didn’t seem to mind. That was probably because he believed I was interested in him. It was true, for the most part. Dean was a fabulous person; he would make for a great boyfriend, but every time I thought about him, I seemed to compare him to someone else. And that wasn’t a good sign, or start to a relationship, which I wasn’t supposed to be involving myself with in the first place.

It was just under two weeks ago that I had made a deal with myself—I wasn’t going to get involved with any boys this summer because boys meant drama. I didn’t want that, yet here I was, going against my own words as if they meant nothing. There was Dean, who maybe I could deal with if the circumstances were right, and then there was Rick Avery. He was an entirely different story.

Damn the freaking universe!

I just couldn’t win. It looked like I would never get the alone time I wanted. It was absolute torture, but just maybe I had brought this on myself. I had learned over the years that putting the blame on me wasn’t the way to go, but this was different. I had made a deal with myself and I had already broken it. This was entirely my fault and perhaps I didn’t want to be alone at all.

My date with Dean ended on a good note. He didn’t seem to notice my hesitations or my quiet behaviour as I thought he might. If anything, he seemed over the moon, which made me feel even guiltier. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I should have just sucked it up and dealt with it. It was what I usually did, so why didn’t that tactic work with Rick?

He plagued my mind, especially on New Year’s Eve, the day I was most anxious to see him. As pathetic as it sounded, I couldn’t wait to see his beautiful face again, but I was also afraid of what the sight of him might do to me. I simply could not make up my mind about him.

It all seemed to worsen when Kylie came over to get ready for the concert. All of a sudden, everything became real and I finally accepted that there was no avoiding this.

Kylie, with the enthusiastic and resentful help of Bianca, tried so hard to get me in a dress, but I refused to wear anything too tight or revealing. I didn’t want any trouble tonight, and wearing a skimpy outfit around a heard of drunken people, drunken men especially, was practically begging for it. Shorts were my only option, much to my friend’s dismay.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Kylie exclaimed as we dodged all the future partygoers on the footpath outside my building. “You look completely boring.” Compared to Kylie, who wore a tight, tie-dyed dress and strappy flat shoes—she wasn’t an idiot and knew heels would kill on a day like this—I did look quite plain, but boring was kind of pushing it. I was merely being practical. Comfort was an issue in the midday heat, and the weather was only going to get hotter as the afternoon rolled in.

“Too late now, anyway,” I told her smugly. She was not going to force me into something fancy or frilly. “Where exactly are we going?”

Kylie pulled her mobile phone out of her large shoulder bag and fiddled with it for a few moments. “Maree said to meet her at Mrs. Macquarie Point. Do you know where that is?”