Forgive or…please forget.
In my attempt to remember the night, I’d discovered why some things were convenient to forget. My head was throbbing. But it wasn’t just from lack of hydration, it was also from excessive humiliation. And the question still remained: had I attacked Matty with my tongue? In more ways than one? And did I ruin his shoes?
No. F-ing. Way.
I KISSED RICKY SCHWARTZ?!
This was bad. This was bad bad. This was the Colossus of bad. They were going to build a giant freaking statue commemorating my horror and terrible decision-making and unintended bestie betrayal. And then they’d probably build another. Whoever “they” were.
And it was public. Who knew how many people saw the picture…not to mention the actual event? The kiss was just an additional thing I could add to the list of reasons why I’d potentially just screwed up everything with Matty. But for now, Matty could wait. Tamara couldn’t. I had to talk to her before doing anything else.
The kiss didn’t mean anything. I didn’t even remember it. If only I could make her forget it, too…
…she’d understand, right?
Oublier ou...s'il te plait oublie.
Traduction à venir ! ;)