Twenty-five Memories of Viggo MacDuff by Kate Gordon

Author:Kate Gordon [Gordon, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odyssey Books

Thirty

“Yep. Okay. TMI right there.”

Jed and I are sitting in McDonalds. He’s halfway through a mouthful of Big Mac.

I have a strong coffee … and an Oreo McFlurry.

There’s no way Jed would let me order an ordinary breakfast. I’m glad. Jed Food seems to be helping soothe my savaged soul and, since living on alfalfa and lean chicken breast for the year I was with Viggo, my body is giving me a high five for all the bad fats and carbohydrates. Sadly, however, one McFlurry can’t take the pain away entirely. Thinking about my first kiss with Viggo has made my chest go all funny. There are pinpricks at the back of my eyes.

I don’t reply to Jed, just shovel another heaped spoonful in my mouth and shrug.

“Sorry,” he says after a moment. “I guess that was a difficult memory to relive.”

“Yup,” I reply after swallowing.

“I won’t be too hard on you about cancelling the East Coast trip I was really looking forward to then.”

“Please don’t be.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, though … was the kiss … I mean … Did you …”

“Did I like it?” I ask, reading Jed’s mind. “Of course I—”

But then I stop. And I try to remember. To really remember.

And I find I can’t. I can remember Viggo leaning in. I can remember him pressing his lips to mine. I can remember he smelled of his fancy Ralph Lauren aftershave. I can remember feeling excited, flattered …

But the actual kiss itself?

“Of course I did,” I say, ignoring the strange, uncertain feeling in my belly. “It was Viggo. Of course he was a good kisser.”

I know this part at least is true. Because obviously that first kiss wasn’t the only kiss I shared with Viggo MacDuff. He kissed me lots of times after. After he gave speeches or accepted awards he’d always come back to me and kiss me on the cheek. I liked those kisses—the public ones—because it showed the world I was Viggo MacDuff’s girlfriend. I belonged to him. Of course he kissed me in private, too. He kissed me goodbye and goodnight whenever we parted and his kisses were just like him: firm, assured, confident. So of course that first kiss would have been good. I don’t know why I blanked it out.

I’m just tired.

“Maybe we should go home,” I say to Jed. “I’m starting to feel …”

I look around the restaurant. It’s full of smiling, happy people. People who had a great family Christmas yesterday, then a long, full-bellied sleep and are now having a special Boxing Day treat. The restaurant is still decked out in Christmas tinsel and there’s a plastic tree in the corner. Everything and everyone feels festive. Nobody here has just had their heart broken.

I’m the only one.

I’m all alone.

And I’m suddenly very, very tired.

“No.”

I look at Jed curiously. “No? What do you mean no?”

“No, you’re not going to bed.” There is a glint in Jed’s eye.

“But you’re the one who was suggesting it, back at the roller skating rink,” I point out.

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